ZOMBIE BATTLE 4: WAR

Jacqueline Druga

Zombie Battle 4: War

By Jacqueline Druga

Copyright 2012 by Jacqueline Druga.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any person or persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

Thank you so much, Gene, for all your help with this one.

Cover art Image provided by © James Thew - Fotolia.com

Chapter One

May 12th

Pittsburgh, PA

In his prime, Hess McWilliams was unstoppable. A professional wrestler known as Big Hess, he was larger than life in the days of Studio Wrestling both in physique and style. He not only had talent, but the personality to showboat himself into stardom.

Being seventy-four years old, those days were long gone. Occasionally he’d made an appearance on the big wrestling screen. But that was for fun and a few extra bucks in his pocket. Wrestling glory days now were stories he told young people and days he dreamed of.

The walls of his bedroom were filled with photos and posters of Hess in his heyday. Even his championship belt was there. But now those items were spattered with blood. A memorial painting, so to speak, of what occurred in that room not fifteen minutes earlier.

Any other man his age would have been easily defeated. Hess was a battle because of his size, strength, and background.

His son, George, had to take him out. Because of the emotional aspects, it waseven more difficult.

It stated out a normal day. Hess and his lifelong friend went to local VFW, bragged about stopping a street fight, came home and seemed fine. But not for long.

Hess and George shared a house inside the city limits. Hess excused himself not long after arriving home and said he was going to bed. He had a headache and his stomach felt queasy.

George really didn’t think much about it. His father did like to drink, probably drank a lot at the VFW. And he was up the night before watching the news about all the rioting. He figured his father was just tired. He even checked on him several times; he was fine. Sound asleep with the cat curled up next to him. Then as the evening rolled into late hours, he didn’t bother his father as much.

Later, thinking his father might be hungry, George went to wake his father. .

He knocked once, no answer. A second knock brought more silence and just to be sure his father was fine, George opened the bedroom door.

Hess was already having a meal. Hess was eating the cat.

The limp animal, held in his huge hands, had a gaping hole in the midsection. Hess sat on the side of the bed, blood poured over his fingers and fur mixed with blood smeared across his face like a tar and feather situation.

Hess’ pupils were white and he snapped a growl at George the second he saw him as if to say, ‘How dare you interrupt my meal’.

George, not always the brightest of the bunch murmured in shock. “Dad, what are you doing? That’s the cat.”

Hess dropped the cat and he didn’t just stand up, he stood and lunged toward George.

He had twenty four years on George and George still didn’t stand a chance. His father’s massive physique sent George stumbling back into the door, slamming it closed and trapping him inside.

“Dad, you’re sick. You’re sick!” George pleaded as he struggled with Hess.

He held his own for a little. He watched his father’s teeth snap for him. Saliva, blood and fur spattered George as he fought to free himself, as he did a dance of survival around that bedroom.

They slammed into the nightstand, toppling the lamp to the ground. The bulb didn’t break until George was tackled and landed on that lamp.

He tried to roll from his father’s grip and he almost succeeded. His thoughts were to get out of there, get help for his father who obviously had some sort of rabies. He flipped to his stomach, scurried to his knees and that was when Hess grabbed his leg and took a chunk from his calf.

Screaming, George reached for the lamp and wildly swung outward. He connected, startling his father enough for George to stand. But Hess kept coming. George had no choice but to hit him again and again. Blood splattered with each hit until Hess finally toppled to the bed.

George dropped the lamp and fled from the room. Immediately he picked up the phone to call for help, but the line was down. Thinking, ‘The hell with it’, George, blood pouring from his leg, raced downstairs, grabbed his cell and the keys to his dark green Jeep Cherokee and fled the house.

He’d call for help on the way to the hospital.

Chapter Two

North Carolina

‘The USS Hartford launched its entire bay of trident missiles.’

That was the message Jack Edwards received when trying to send his one final report. He had seen all that he could see, or rather wanted to see. The small town of Huntersville, North Carolina would forever be a nightmare to him. It was the first time in his entire military career he couldn’t follow orders. The town was overrun with infected children and he refused to shoot them. There was something inside of him that just couldn’t.

It was time for him to leave. Saul Klein, a friend born out of circumstances was in trouble. Jack promised Saul’s wife he’d get him to her. She was with Jack’s wife, Lil, safe and tucked away in the safe haven fortress of a long time friend. A friend Jack believed was off his rocker and spent way too much money prepping for an apocalypse that would never happen.

How wrong Jack was.

But he needed to report in before he left to find Saul and head to the fortress. His initial decision to just ‘just go’ was wrong. Even though the only other survivor of the Huntersville raid was a private who pretty much said, ‘Dude, do what you need to do.’, Jack didn’t feel right going AWOL like so many others. He made the radio call. And waited.

He received no reply for the longest time.

It was when he made the final desperate call that he learned of the trident missiles.

But they had to have landed? Where? They weren’t anywhere near Jack. He surely would have seen or heard them.

He waited for confirmation before he headed to Vermont for Saul. Finally it came.

“Foxtrot Zuler Niner, do you copy, over.”

Jack looked at the young man with him, then lifted the radio. “Foxtrot Zulu Niner, I copy, over.”

“Hold for the Secretary of Defense.”

Jack cringed. That was not what he expected. If there was a single button in Jack that could be pushed to stop him from going AWOL and stay the course, it was speaking directly to the President or the Secretary of Defense. His button was about to be pushed.

Chapter Three

Washington DC

General Greg Lance and Secretary of Health Don Kraus were the only two cabinet members remaining in Washington; in fact they were probably the only two members alive.

Even with limited warning, Lance and Don were able to make it with others to the bomb shelter below the White House and did so before the trident missiles hit. Three hit DC, and it was confirmed later that another hit in Sarasota. Lance couldn’t figure out what the good folks of Sarasota did to the Hartford to deserve that.

Maybe they were better off with all that was going on.

The destinations of the other missiles had not been learned. Whether it was important, remained to be seen.

That was all Lance needed. An outbreak of the undead mixed in with the start of a world war. It was not how he expected his week to begin.

In the midst of the madness of the nuclear blast, Lance had to maintain order. He already had a country in chaos; he didn’t want a country without leadership.

The news of the President’s death and then reanimation had not been released. He was already reeling in the aftermath of the footage captured at the blood bath of a news conference.

Organizing with another General on what could be the next plan of attack, he received word he had been waiting for.

The soldier.

Sgt. Jack Edwards had not only been in the Army his entire adult life, he had been with the outbreak since it started. Sent to Peru, he saved the life of a fellow soldier by amputating a bitten arm. He then returned to the states with the CDC director, was instrumental in the CDC house cleansing. The soldier helped with the exodus until it went out control. Then he traveled north with a special team to a small town.

Edwards wasn’t just balls deep in the outbreak he was a front line warrior and Lance needed that experience.

“Sgt. Edwards, this is Secretary of Defense General Lance. How are you, son, over?”

“I’m fine, General, sir. Over.”

“What is the situation now?”

“There are only two of us remaining from our squad, positioned twenty miles north of Huntersville, North Carolina. The town is dead, sir. We were emotionally unable to clean sweep. Over.”

“Explain, ‘emotionally unable’. Over.”

“They were children, sir. They moved at an incredible speed and just the fact they were children made it very difficult to execute them. Over.”

Lance paused, he understood. Children or not, he was pretty certain he wouldn’t have had a hard time. “Sergeant. I don’t need to reiterate how grave of a situation this is. Right now we are trying to keep a semblance of government, use every available man to start moving people west where the infection rate is minimal, all while trying like hell to find a means to end this. Roger that, over?”

“Roger that. Over.” Jack replied.

“I need someone with experience to go into a zone and find someone. Over.”

“Would that be CDC director Klein? Over.”

As if Jack could see him. Lance gave a curious look, he shifted his eyes to Don, then replied on the radio. “No. No it’s not. I’m sorry to say this, but we lost all communication with the CDC. I have no idea what has become of Dr. Klein. I wish we did. Over.”

“I do,” Jack stated. “Over.”

“Sergeant, you know for a fact Dr. Klein is alive?”

“Yes, sir. I just spoke to him a few minutes ago. He’s alive. He’s trapped. But more than that, he has with him what might be the means to end this infection that you’ve been looking for.”

Before Jack could even sputter out the customary, ‘over’, Lance was snapping his finger to a specialist, while getting location information from Jack.

It was the first encouraging thing he had heard all day.

Chapter Four

Vermont

“Try to get out. Just leave, Saul.”

“I wish I could,” Saul said. “But once again, I’m trapped at the CDC and the city is swarming. This time, I’m on the roof and it won’t be long before they get to me.”

“Saul.”

“It’s over for me, Jack. Tell my wife I love her.”

“No.” Jack said strongly. “Tell her yourself. Hang tight, I’m on my way.”

“Jack.”

“No Saul, end of discussion, end of call. I’ll be there in ten hours. I won’t leave you. I’m on my way.”

“Jack.” Saul cried out, but the call ended. Saul tried to call Jack again, but it was futile.

How long had it been since he spoke to Jack? An hour maybe. Saul sat on the roof listening to the relentless attempts of the undead as they tried to get to him. Slamming against the door, crying up from the street. While his situation on the roof hadn’t worsened, Saul’s condition had.

He wanted to tell Jack and he didn’t get the chance, but Saul was injured. Not just injured, he was bitten. In his attempt to flee, one of them got him.

The small bite by his thumb bled worse than any cut he had ever had. And as the hour passed, it began to swell, grow discolored and Saul shivered with fever.

What made matters worse was in a briefcase, Saul had two doses of what he believed was an antidote to the infection. It worked on a previous patient and Saul held high hopes. SP1, as he called it, would work on everyone. A serum synthesized from the antibodies of a victim who almost beat it.

Unfortunately the hope for humanity would die on that roof with Saul.

He had the case open, and a syringe ready to give himself an injection. But what good would it do him? He’d live only to succumb when the undead finally broke through to the roof.

He place a small note in the case regarding the contents of the vials and instructions for replicating it should it be found. Saul doubted it. Once the dead broke through, the case would be destroyed in the chaos of it all.

Saul thought about his end. He couldn’t even peacefully jump off the roof to his death. He’d land in the swarm. One way or another they would get him.

His only weapon, the M-4, was jammed in the door handle of the roof. Could he be fast enough to grab it and put a bullet in his head before the door burst open?

To Saul, that really was his only option. He didn’t want to be one of them, nor did he want to die screaming as they tore him a part.

In those final moments, he thought of his wife Irma, how much he adored and loved her. How he worried about her and was saddened that he’d never see her again. And their grandson, Jerry. Little Jerry, barely in the world a couple years and the child would never know the love of his mother, would never know the normalcy of a happy life.

Along with all that, his heart broke for his daughter. Knowing that he would see her on the other side was the only thing that made his death bearable.

His hand ached and head throbbed. It was time.

Just as he readied to place the syringe in the briefcase, he heard it. A helicopter. It drew closer and louder and Saul stood to visually seek it out.

He spotted it flying his way. A rush of excitement filled Saul and then he realized they were probably only there to assess the situation not rescue.

As he allowed that brief moment of hope to pass, a voice called from the speaker of the chopper.

“Dr. Saul Klein, raise your hands if that is you.”

Saul lost his breath for a moment then after a slight hesitation waved his hands high.

“Hang, tight sir, we’re circling around to get you. We’ll drop a line.”

Saul gave a thumbs up and then did something else.

He looked to the syringe in his hand. He crouched down to the briefcase, closed it, then took the syringe in his hand and injected the serum into his wound.

Chapter Five

North Carolina

If Lil Edwards was asked to name one person who could defy the odds in an apocalypse scenario without a doubt she would say, ‘Garrick Long’.

Since then she met Garrick he had been talking about the end of the world. Planning for it. He was a little different that those some would call, ‘preppers’, because Garrick didn’t boast or brag of what he had. He didn’t think armory first, although he was protected and armed. He thought protection from the elements and whatever was the reason for the extinction event and he thought long term.

He had notebook after notebook of what he needed. When his parents passed away and he received his inheritance and share of the property in the mountains, instead of using it for investments like his brother Steve, Garrick built his dream survivor fortress.

He stocked it constantly and rotated goods; he had a satellite phone as well. Lil remembered when she and Jack got a good laugh about Garrick hightailing it to the fortress when some preacher in 2011 predicted the Rapture.

Garrick said it would prove to be protection against those who were left behind and how crazy they would get.

Lil thought if he were safe from the forces of evil then surely he was safe from zombies.

But when the reality of the rising dead happened, Lil feared the fortress wouldn’t be strong enough.

Sure it had a strong fence, but a mob of undead might be able to break through it. Then again, the house was built of concrete with steel shudder window bars.

A prison and a death sentence. Those weren’t her words, they were Steve’s.

It was a hard evening, and she blamed that for the reason Steve was so pessimistic.

A virologist who fled his post to help a boy that had ‘turned’; the boy was different. He was violent or deadly; he was a child trapped in a decaying body.

As hard as it was, Lil ended the extended life of the child. It was something she’d live with for the rest of her life. While she pulled the trigger with ease, she did not do so without heartache.

The walk from Steve’s cabin back to the fortress was a quiet one. Until they got inside.

They spoke in whispering voices because Jerry, Irma’s toddler grandson, had fallen asleep in her arms.

“We need to get out of here,” Steve urged. “This place isn’t safe.”

“Your ass is itchy,” Garrick retorted. “I got concrete walls. Even if by some slim chance those things break through my fence, they can’t get in here.”

“Then you have sealed us in.”

“Leave then.”

“I will.” Steve said.

“Go.”

“I will.”

“Enough,” Irma hushed them as if she were scolding two boys. “Please, enough of the bickering for this evening. Steve’s been though an ordeal and Garrick, you have been very generous to let us all stay here. Steven, sit, relax, have a drink. If you want to go in the morning, we’ll discuss it.”

Steve exhaled heavily. “Yes, Ma’am.”

“Here’s something to add to your list of discussions,” Garrick added.

Irma, so motherly, sung out a warning, “Garrick.”

“No, I’m not starting. Just want him to think about this. As a doctor.”

“Go on,” Steve said with a nod.

“If I have enough food for six months, water too. Air, whatever. How can this be a tomb? Because how long will the zombie apocalypse really take? You’re doctor, biologically, how long?”

Steve cleared his throat. “That’s something I will think about for you.”

That was a few hours earlier; now Lil stood by the window catching a great view of the moon. She reflected on that conversation, and even thought about the question Garrick asked of his brother.

Lil thought of a lot of things by that window. The little boy named Juan. Did he feel anything, did he know? He didn’t move or attack like the other things, he was different. That alone made her feel even more guilt over his ‘second’ death.

And mostly, Lil thought of Jack. Jack and Irma’s husband, Saul. How they were all strangers and yet, thrown together accidently. Lil and Irma. Jack and Saul. Almost as if it were meant to be.

She thought of them, prayed for them and wished with all her heart, they would soon get to the fortress.

Chapter Six

Pittsburgh, PA

A pool of blood had formed on the floor of George’s car right under the accelerator pedal. He had lost so much blood, he was weak.

George had to pull over even though he was seven blocks from home and after numerous calls for help. His hands shook, his leg ached and his head felt as if it were going to explode. Not to mention, he swore he had a fever.

He pulled over and parked in a vacant lot. Something was wrong and it wasn’t just with his leg. He felt badly all over.

George was wishing he hadn’t spent the afternoon watching on demand movies or perhaps he’d be up on the news. He knew there was some sort of virus that had been brought back from Peru. But those infected had been contained in Washington DC and Atlanta. They really weren’t close to Pittsburgh at all.

How could sick people make it all the way from Washington DC? George couldn’t even make it seven blocks.

He was scared, more so about the fact that he probably killed his father. But his father was mad and was eating the cat. Eating the cat, fur and all, told George his father wasn’t in his right mind Then again, George didn’t process much correctly. He was a simple man. He wasn’t born that way, but a stunt at sixteen when he convinced his friends he could jump from a moving car, without getting hurt, left him with a fractured skull and brain damage. George never fully recovered from that.

While he regained the ability to read, write and talk, his mentality comprehension wasn’t higher than that of a child of twelve.

He saw things differently than most adults his age, at times it was endearing, but in the current crisis situation, it was dangerous.

He looked down to his leg, and the huge mouth size hole in his calf. It didn’t look good. But George could go no further. He was unable to put pressure on it to touch the gas pedal. He was feeling dizzy and his eyesight blurred.

George needed rest. He tried once more to call for help but to no avail. Hoping someone would eventually find him, George rested his head back and closed his eyes.

Chapter Seven

Vermont

The wind from the chopper blades caused Saul’s head to throb even more; but one thing was positive, in the two minutes since he injected his wound with the serum, the darkened veins extending up from his hand began to lighten. A good sign.

Briefcase in hand, he was helped into the chopper by a soldier and they closed the side door. Saul sat down, belted in, and was handed a headset.

“Thank you,” Saul told the young soldier, then glanced out the window.

“Holy Christ, look at them all,” the pilot said. “This is as bad as Atlanta.”

In response the other man in the front seat of the chopper said, “Seems to follow the CDC. Washington would have been this bad in a day or two.”

“If Washington was still around.” The pilot said.

Saul heard this through his headset. “What happened to Washington?”

The pilot replied. “Some sub captain freaked out and released a bay of trident missiles. Three hit Washington and surrounding areas. Toast.”

Saul partially closed his eyes. “Oh my God.” He used his fingers to dab the sweat from his brow. “Where are we headed?” Saul asked.

“Cleveland,” the other man replied. “We have a station there. Cleveland is infection free. For now. I suppose …” he turned to look over his shoulder.

Saul sighed in relief. “Dr. Powers. My God, it’s good to see you.”

Gene Powers was in Atlanta with Saul. He had evacuated with the others when Saul stayed behind with his daughter Sara and Jack. He was instrumental in breaking down the virus. His work enabled Saul to go further. If anyone was around to work on it with Saul, Powers was the man.

Powers crinkled his brow giving a curious look to Saul. He shifted his eyes to the briefcase. “Word has it you have an antidote.”

Saul nodded and patted the briefcase. “I do. It is very quick in response, using Carlson’s antibodies and a synthetic along with a virus. It worked on a subject. She was about three hours post bite, too. But unfortunately she was killed. It’s being tested again.” Saul looked down to his hand.

“You don’t look well. Are you okay?” Powers asked.

“I hope to be. I don’t know. I’m the one testing the serum. I’ve been bit.” He looked at the soldier. “So, keep that gun on me just in case.”

Chapter Eight

May 13th

North Carolina

Jack had pulled the armored vehicle off to side of the highway into the tall grass. He locked down tight for the night so he and Private Allan could rest.

He was waiting on directives from Lance and had a few hours to spare. Shut eye was in order. He did try to call Garrick’s satellite phone, but when there wasn’t an immediate answer, he hung up. After all it was four in the morning and they were all probably sleeping.

Jack didn’t worry. Lil was with Garrick, the safest place she could be.

Private Allan had passed out first, after rambling emotionally about his family. Then finally, Jack rested his head back and fell asleep.

He wasn’t sleeping long, a couple hours.

Jack looked at his watch as soon as he woke, then look across from him.

Allan was gone.

Thinking, “maybe he went to take a leak’, Jack checked the ‘scope of the vehicle to make sure there weren’t any undead around and he opened the hatch.

He didn’t see Allan anywhere. As suspected, he probably took off. Even though Jack was pissed off, he didn’t blame the kid for leaving. He wasn’t angry about him going AWOL, he was more upset that he left the hatch unlocked while Jack slept.

But there was something else that surprised Jack that morning. Something he didn’t expect to see.

As if a normal day, a steady flow of traffic traveled the highway in both directions.

Where were people going? Didn’t the new decree inform them to stay put, stay tight and stay safe?

Apparently not.

There wasn’t an abundance of cars, but they moved faster than normal.

It was time to get in contact with General Lance. But first Saul.

Jack tried three times to get through to him. No luck. Finally, Jack placed the radio call to Lance.

“They got him,” Lance told Jack. “But, right now, for a day, he’s in quarantine.”

“What happened?”

“He … he was bit.”

Jack’s heart sunk. Not Saul.

“However,” Lance continued. “He had given himself a dose of the antiserum and so far, it’s working nicely. He is continuing to work on creating more of the serum.”

“That’s good. That’s really good,” Jack tried to catch his breath.

“Sergeant, Dr. Klein is the front line defense. If he perfects this serum it will stop anyone who hadn’t received a life threatening bite from getting an infection. That is a long term answer. However, we need you to do something to help us with the short term answer.”

Jack listened to the General.

“There’s an armory and reserve base twenty two miles north of where you are positioned. Do you copy?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You’ll head there immediately for supplies and a means to transportation.”

“And a squad?” Jack asked.

“I’m sorry; I have no one to send with you.”

Jack released the button on the radio and spoke out loud, “I’m going alone? What the hell?” he breathed out and depressed the button. “Roger that.”

“It’s a search, rescue and retrieve,” the general said. “And I cannot stress how important it is that you retrieve.”

<><><><>

It was the first good night of sleep Irma had for days. No waking up and looking around, no anxiousness. In fact, she slept a solid five hours and she needed it.

Perhaps the wine helped, that combined with the fact that she just felt safe. There were no nightmares. Then again, maybe living in a nightmare world, dreams would become a means of escape.

She did however wake up with an abundance of sadness and heartache for her daughter. Especially when it registered that Sara was dead.

Irma closed her eyes tight, trying to squeeze away the pain and then she panicked.

Little Jerry.

She had fallen asleep on the sofa with the child cuddled close in her arms and he wasn’t there. She sprang to a sitting position, swung her legs to the floor but before she panicked any further, she heard the sound of Jerry’s laughter.

A small counter wall separated the kitchen area from the living portion and once Irma lost her grogginess she saw Jerry with Garrick in the kitchen.

“Man, you’re a good boy,” Garrick spoke in that ‘adult to kid’ enthusiastic tone. “Is that yummy?”

“Mmm.”

Irma smiled with delight over the innocent smile as she stepped into the kitchen. “Morning.”

“I have some coffee done,” Garrick said. “Help yourself.”

“Wonderful thank you.” Irma took a few steps to the pot and halted. “Are you feeding him bacon?”

“Yeah,” Garrick replied.

“Oh my God.”

“No, no worries.” Garrick waved out his hand. “He’s eating it and I’m doing that chew-chew-chew thing to him.”

“It’s bacon, Garrick.”

“Yeah, but he’s chewing. He’s loving it.”

“He’s also Jewish and that’s pork. He doesn’t eat pork.”

“He’s eating it now,” Garrick defended.

“Because you gave it to him.”

“I thought only the orthodox Jews stayed away from pork”

“Some Jewish people eat pork, we stay away.”

“But it’s bacon, it doesn’t count.”

“It counts.” Irma argued.

“Nah, I eat bacon and I’m Jewish.”

“No you aren’t.”

“No. I’m not.”

Irma shook her head and reached for the plate. When she took it away, Jerry pouted, his little eyes welled with tears and a cry began to mount.

“See.” Garrick pointed. “He loved it. And he didn’t eat much yesterday at all. I can’t believe you’re placing religion over nutrition.”

“Garrick.” Irma scolded, as her hand moved so did the plate and so did Little Jerry reaching for it. “There has to be some semblance of culture even now. At the worst of time.”

“True and I totally respect what Moses said. But …” Garrick held up a finger. “You really think God wants you not to eat? “

“There’s plenty to eat besides bacon.”

At that point Jerry’s cry turned into a scream, his hands reached out while he screamed. “Hungry, Ya Ya. Hungry! Please.”

Irma paused. She stopped and set the plate down. “Only because it’s the apocalypse.”

Garrick grinned.

“Where’s Lil?”

“She and Steve are out canvassing the area. Just checking.”

“Are they safe?”

“Absolutely.” As soon as Garrick said that, his phone rang. “Jack.” He answered. “What’s up?”

Irma wanted to pester, ask, ‘how is he? How is Saul? What’s going on?’ But she’d wait, Garrick would get there. But she had to wonder what was being said because she watched Garrick laugh.

“You’re joking,” Garrick said. Then his smile dropped and he gave a serious look to Irma. “You’re not joking. Shit.”

<><><><>

“What is it? What do you see?” Lil asked as she and Steve walked the wooded area. He had stopped and was looking at the ground.

Steve only had his head down, his foot moved back and forth. “How far are we from the fence?”

Quarter mile.” Lil guessed.

“Ok,” He shuffled his foot. “Mark this down on the Garrick map.”

“Sure. What am I marking?”

“Burrow hole.”

“A what?” Lil asked.

“Burrow hole. Not important, probably a gofer.”

Lil marked it down and followed as he walked. “Back to what we were saying. You’re really concerned about our safety. Aren’t we far enough away?”

“I was in Peru, Lil. I mean these things wander aimlessly and with no direction.”

“I highly doubt they’ll come into the woods. I mean, every movie I ever saw, I thought it was retarded that suddenly hoards of the walking dead are in the woods.”

“Where are we?” Stave asked.

“Um …” Lil looked down to the hand drawn map Garrick had made. “GS3. That stands for Garrick Sector three.”

“No, I mean. We’re in the woods. Right? How many other people will come here? How many already sick will make their way here. That’s where they’ll start.”

“I think you, you are worried a bit too much. Honestly. They’re walking dead. It’s not a work of magic or God, they’ll eventually decompose enough to not be a threat. There’s no way the infection could get out here. How would it?”

Just as she said that, a haunting moan echoed through the woods.

Lil jolted her head. “What was that?”

“From down there.” Steve waved his hand. “Raise your cross bow. Noise travels.”

Lil rolled her eyes some and pulled forth her revolver as she followed him. “Jack would totally be doing things differently.”

“I’m not Jack. I outrank him anyhow, so listen to me.”

Lil gasped.

Steve held back his arm and stopped her. “Oh my God.”

The sound echoed again and they saw where it originated. Down the grade, not far from them, was a doe on its side. Her leg lifted and fell, convulsing some as Eight Point Buck, gnawed hungrily on her mid section. The buck paused only to pull ligaments swallow and call out and in a frightening way. Its pupils were white and the bones were exposed on his hind legs.

Steve looked at Lil. “And you asked how the infection would get out this way?”

Lil whispered as she nodded. “I think I will use that crossbow now.”

Chapter Nine

Pittsburgh, PA

‘What the … what …’ George couldn’t think of the right words. For some reason they wouldn’t come to his mind. All he knew was he was pretty shocked to find out he was still in his jeep. He was glad he didn’t have a headache or the extremely bright sun would have been like needles. His eyes, however, felt sensitive.

He had passed out, fallen asleep in the front seat of his jeep on the side of the road.

After trying unsuccessfully to reach help on the phone, George succumbed to the pain and weakness, pushed back his seat and closed his eyes. He left his door ajar, so if someone came by the could see he was injured, He was cold all night and that didn’t change when he woke. Figuring he must be raging with fever, George tried to focus.

The sun was too bright.

But at least he was better. He had to be, his leg didn’t hurt anymore.

Either it was better or George was just in bad shape. He lowered his head, it nearly flopped and he looked down to his leg.

He made out images, he could see, but it wasn’t crisp and clear. It was as if he were wearing an extra strong pair of reading glasses.

Inching his leg, he noticed it hard to move. Heavy. After blinking, he saw he wasn’t seeping blood and that his foot was nearly cemented in the tacky brown blood.

With a turn of his head, he was happy that the cell phone was still in his hand, but that same hand didn’t want to work right. His fingers wouldn’t let go.

Some weird muscle reaction he supposed.

He couldn’t even let go of that phone enough to dial.

Help.

George had to get help.

His car door was still ajar and with a shove of his shoulder against it, the door opened and George rolled out and to the ground.

He groaned. At least it didn’t hurt.

Laying on the pavement, he noticed he could not hear properly. His ears felt clogged. Very clogged and any sound was muffled.

Like the sirens. He couldn’t tell if they were distance or near. But he didn’t see any people. Where were the people? He was on a main street. He had to get up.

Using the car door as leverage was impossible, especially with the cell phone stuck to his hand. He shook and shook his hand but his fingers would not release the grip.

He desperately struggled to stand, but his legs and body felt as if they weighed five hundred pounds. It took him a while, but he eventually managed to get upright. He teetered back and forth until finally, arms extended he gained his balance. The first step was the hardest. His legs didn’t want to move or bend. They felt hard and rigid.

George was fearful that he really had a bad infection, though he didn’t ‘feel’ sick, something was wrong.

He had to get help; that was his main goal. And for as hard as it was to walk, as slow as he moved, George trudged on. Staggering as best as he could to find someone.

Chapter Ten

London, England

For the seventh time in just a few days, Prime Minister Lucille Walker tried and failed at making contact with anyone in authority in the United States.

Delegates from the United Nations had pulled out since an outbreak had grown at a rapid rate in New York City. Most delegates had already waited out their three day quarantine, while others patiently held hope that they weren’t infected.

But Lucille knew better. She had been given enough information from the WHO and CDC—before they collapsed—that only ground zero patients didn’t need to come in contact with blood or saliva of the infected.

So if the delegates weren’t bit or scratched, they were fine.

But those who spent more than forty-eight hours in Peru around ground zero stood a great chance of bringing the virus home.

The WHO estimated 75% of those soldiers and workers who had been there caught the illness.

Those who brought the virus home weren’t really her concern, but they brought it to the United States and Germany, of course.

She spoke to the Secretary of Defense a few days earlier when the President was attacked and killed. He wasn’t in charge of the country, but, in light of recent events, she wondered if anyone was. The news out of the United States was sketchy.

There were some areas of the country untouched by the infection and some so overrun; Lucille wondered how it would be contained.

Germany was a different story and for that word she waited on Swanson, her aide and friend. He, like her, hadn’t slept more than a few hours at a time. He didn’t look too bad when he entered her office.

He moistened his lips, dropped a folder to her desk. “Border patrols are up. Unified troop support from France, Italy, Russia and China.”

“This is good. Very good. I have an emergency meeting with those leaders tomorrow. But tell me more about Germany.”

“Like with us. No more cases reported. The wandering and, may I add, the culprit that started the outbreak on the plane …”

“Hans?”

Swanson nodded. “Shot as he walked. He did however, scratch a teenager in a car that pulled over to help him. Luckily those teenagers heard the report and instead of crossing the boarder, they turned themselves in.”

Lucille sighed out. “Anything else Italy, France …”

“No, but like with SARS, they are diligently keeping watch.”

“Good. Good.”

“No news from across the pond?”

Sadly, Lucille shook her head. “But I won’t give up. Not until the moment I step into that meeting tomorrow.”

“You have that press conference. How are we explaining Germany? Did we decide?”

“We did. I did,” she said. “We are simply going to blame it on a wayward US navy submarine whose infected and delirious captain released a bay of missiles. Cities in Germany, unfortunately, were the recipients of her actions.”

Chapter Eleven

North Carolina

With Jerry perched on her hip, Irma followed Garrick around the fortress as he packed things in a small canvass backpack.

“Garrick, please,” Irma pleaded. “As noble as this is, leave it to the professionals. I am sure Jack can find someone else to help.”

“Irma,” Garrick smiled. “You’re so damn cute. I am a professional. I was in the service.”

“You aren’t now, you’re with us. We need you. I need you. I feel safe with you here.”

“That’s awesome. But Lil can handle a weapon and so can Steve.”

Irma shook her head. “He’s not you.”

“Is anyone?” Garrick joked.

“Garrick Long, this is not the time for jokes. You hear me?” Irma scolded. “This is real. What is going on out there is real.”

“I know and I locked myself away here.”

“For good reason. Stay. Look at little Jerry.” She squeezed Jerry’s cheeks. “He adores you.”

“And I adore him. But Jack needs me and to be honest, if he called me, he knows together we can get this job done. Then, like Jack said, we go get your Saul.”

“I have faith in you and Jack as a team, but before you meet up with him, you must ride that motorcycle alone. Alone. What would your mother say?”

“She would probably say I was nuts.”

“Then listen to your mother,” Irma said.

“But my father would say go.”

“Listen to your mother.” Irma sighed when she saw the door open. “Steve. Lil. Tell him.”

Garrick spun in surprise when Lil and Steve walked in.

Steve asked. “What’s going on?”

“Garrick’s leaving.” Irma answered. “Taking the motor bike and leaving.”

Garrick exhaled. “Jack called and …”

“Jack called?” Lil rushed to him. “Is he ok?”

Garrick held up his hand. “He’s fine. He needs me though. He was abandoned by his squad and needs my help on a mission.”

“No,” Lil shook her head. “He needs to get here.”

“Exactly,” Irma added.

Steve was a bit calmer. “What’s going on Gar?”

“According to Jack,” Garrick replied. “He was on his way here when the Secretary of Defense radioed. Said some shit has happened, there’s no more DC…” The loud eruption of ‘whats’ caused Garrick to lift his hand. “Jack said he’d fill me in. But Lance is in charge, buried deep in a bunker and Jack is his only real point of contact with any remaining soldiers. He needs Jack to do something, a mission. Jack could do it alone, but would rather not, and asked for my help.”

“Bullshit,” Lil argued. “This isn’t a invasion from a foreign country. This is the walking dead. My God, Jack’s obligation to his country and as a soldier is done. This isn’t a war.”

Garrick smiled peacefully. “Uh, Lil, you’re wrong. This is a war. A war against the rise of the undead. And when, not if, Jack and I complete this mission with success, then the war will be over. Until then …it rages.”

Chapter Twelve

Washington, DC

“Radiation levels are still way too high,” Don told Lance. “The automatic door won’t even open until levels hit one Gray.”

“Where are we now?” Lance asked.

“210 Rad or 2.01 Gray.”

“Should it be that high?”

Don shrugged. “We were hit with three.”

Lance paced. They were feverishly trying to reassemble some sort of government. They couldn’t reach all the military and they had two main points of communication. Jack Edwards and Cleveland.

Lance called that absolutely ridiculous.

A young tech, a radio specialist in the navy, called for the General. “Sir, communication, almost seems blocked in some capacity.”

“How is that possible?” Lance asked.

“I don’t know. I’m working on it. Only a third of all cell phone signals are getting out. Best means of communication right now are satellite phones and some radio frequencies,” the tech replied. “We lost communication with a lot of our satellites. So the information we got about where the tridents hit, was the last information we received. At all.”

“So basically,” Lance said. “We got to get the hell out of Dodge, head to Cleveland.”

Don chuckled.

Lance turned his head. “That amuses you?”

“It’s Cleveland. Who would have thought Ohio, right smack dab in the middle of a lot of shit would be clear. Especially a metro like Cleveland.”

“I’m sure there are a lot more cities out there like Cleveland, but it’s just the one we can talk to.”

“We know Pittsburgh isn’t good and that’s not far from Cleveland.” Don replied.

“Let’s just hope,” Lance said. “Pittsburgh isn’t so bad that Jack can’t make it through.”

“Well … you heard what Dodds said. If they can get close to him, they’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, well, Dodds was stoned out of his mind.” Lance said. The mumble of ‘I would be too’ from the tech caused Lance to stare at the young man. Lance grumbled in a sarcastic way. “Would you like some marijuana young man, would that make it all better? Huh? Take a little toke here and there. Maybe take a high flight out and see if you can find Dodds in la-la land.”

The tech laughed.

“That’s funny?”

The tech cleared his throat. “No, sir.”

Don pursed his lips. “Actually, it is funny, Lance. Ease up on the boy. There’s only twelve of us down here and he’s been helpful.”

“Hey, Sir.” The tech called for his attention. “I’m able to lock in on a surviving surveillance camera down by the Capital.”

Lance and Don hurried to view the monitor. The picture had a lot of static, but it was still clear enough to make out images.

The Capital for the most part was still intact, except the dome. The steps were rubble and small fires roared. The fires lit what appeared to be a city darkened with ash and smoke.

“Wait.” Don pointed. “Is that movement? People are alive up there and walking?”

Lance shook his head. “Look closer. The dead are still walking.”

The tech added. “Barely, but they are. It’s the brains Sir. Any good zombie follower knows that. They still have a brain intact, they still move, burned or not.”

Don sighed heavily. “Then how will the plan work.”

“It has to.” Lance said. “It takes a totally different approach.”

Don asked. “And you never mentioned who this guy Dodds really is. How you know about him?”

“Christopher Dodds.” Lance answered. “Brilliant weapons developer, but turned green and liberal on us. Hijacked his prototype and took off into hiding. On the positive side, he wasn’t a threat to national security.”

The tech interjected,, “Then it was a lucky shot calling out to him. Good thing you found him.”

“Son,” Lance laid his hand on the tech’s shoulder. “He had a lockbox of death. Trust me when I tell you, we never lost him.”

Chapter Thirteen

North Carolina

How long had it been since Jack had seen Lil? It felt like a lifetime but in essence it was only two weeks. He’d been gone longer than that when he was deployed. But this was different. This was big, extinction level and of all places he should have been with her.

If he finished the mission successfully, then Jack had done the most important job. In a different way he was protecting America from invaders foreign and domestic. Of course the military would have to add to the oath, ‘and all other fucked up things.’

Lil. He missed her. He loved her with every ounce of his being.

The affair of her recent past, the one that caused Jack to stop speaking to her, looking at her and acting like a husband, that affair had drifted to the back of his mind. It no longer held the high level of importance it once had.

It seemed trivial. At least at the moment.

How different would things have been had Jack not actively sought out the detail in Peru.

He thought about that on his drive to the Armory. And he thought about it as he parked, waiting for Garrick, on the road that led to the compound --- a mere sixty miles from the mountain safe haven of the Fortress.

Had Jack not gone to Peru, conceivably he would be at the Fortress with Lil. Perhaps not.

His base had been notified of possible infected soldiers returning from Peru. Jack probably wouldn’t have paid too much attention to it. Lil, on the other hand was always looking at conspiracy theories and odd news. She would have enlightened Jack on the ‘outbreak’

Jack would have been in his office when all hell broke loose on base. He would have made it to Lil and she would never have had to make the escape like she did. She wouldn’t have been scared.

But would they have gone to Garrick’s?

More than likely, Jack would have sent Lil and Jack would resume post.

He wouldn’t have met Saul.

What Jack didn’t realize was how instrumental he actually was. How it was a good thing, at least for his country, that he was mad at his wife.

Had he not gone to Peru, he wouldn’t have saved Carlson. While Carlson was the biggest culprit of the outbreak in Atlanta, his antibodies were the main ingredients in the antidote.

No Carlson, no Antidote.

No Jack, the CDC would have gone under. He wouldn’t have been there when the CDC worker turned and caused the chaos and death, Saul, his wife and grandson would have succumbed as well. Jack saved Irma.

So much that Jack had done, but he didn’t think about it. All that was on his mind was his wife’s safety and the mission on hand.

A mission he initially thought absurd, but after thinking about it, it was shot of winning the war on the undead. A shot Jack had to take.

He just wished he had more to go on. An address maybe of the scientist. All he had was a message that stated he’ll know for sure that he found the right place. Pittsburgh was big, and Oakland, which was part of Pittsburgh, wasn’t a small town. It was a city within a city. Businesses, clubs, hospitals and schools.

With Garrick, he’d figure out what they needed and head the eight hour jaunt.

At least Cleveland was a straight flat, highway trip. That would eliminate finding more gas.

The flutter and motorcycle sound snapped Jack from his thoughts and he smiled brightly when he saw Garrick in all his militia glory riding his bike.

Garrick slowed down and the stopped the bike a few feet from Jack. He hopped off and ran enthusiastically toward him.

The two men embraced.

“Before you ask, your wife is great.” Garrick said.

Jack let go with a laugh of relief. “That’s good to know. Mrs. Klein? How is she?”

“I have this weird infatuation with the woman. But, you know, she’s married.” Garrick shrugged then laughed.

“The baby?”

“Awesome.”

“How was your ride here?”

“Interesting. I didn’t stop,” Garrick said. “But are the zombie kids some sort of mutants, because they fucking chased my motorcycle at a high rate of speed.”

“What did you do?”

“Kept riding. I couldn’t get a good shot. They moved too fast.”

Jack winced. “Garrick. They’re kids.”

“They’re the undead, Jack. Deal. Man …” He sighed. “Amory up that way?”

“Yeah, we need to go in armed, just in case.”

Garrick nodded. “I didn’t see one bit of normalcy in my short trip. You said there were nukes. Country’s fucked up. What are we gonna do?”

“Hopefully, if this works, we try to fix it.” Jack gave a friendly swat at Garrick. “Ride with me.” He moved to his armored vehicle and Garrick followed.

Chapter Fourteen

Cleveland, OH

The barrel of the gun was no more than two feet from Saul’s head. It didn’t worry him nor did it rattle him. In fact, Saul was at ease knowing that should something happen to him or if he turned, he wouldn’t cause the damage and a single bullet would end his reanimation.

He worked alongside Dr. Powers, not too close though.

At first, Dr. Powers assured him that should Saul turn, he wasn’t simply going to close his eyes, open them and be one of the undead.

Then Saul retorted, “But wasn’t that what happened with Specialist Carlson.”

Dr. Powers then kept a small distance.

Did Saul think he was going to turn?

He didn’t believe so, but he had to wonder if it was just wishful thinking. His bite wound, not a day old, was healing nicely. Actually a lot better than a normal human bite wound would. Human bites carried massive amounts of bacteria. Typically some sort of infection occurred But Saul’s wound looked good. More than likely it was the ‘soup’ mixture antidote that carried aside from an antiviral, it contained an antibacterial.

Saul felt good, a bit odd, as if he were on some sort of adrenaline. He had a case of internal jitters and every little smell bothered him, making him momentarily queasy.

He guessed, another side effect of the drug. Then again, maybe it was the bacterium working its way through his blood stream.

Saul figured a few days and he could stop worrying. Specialist Carlson turned in two days after completely healing. So Saul used that time frame to gauge.

He was tired but he kept on working. They used the science building at the college as the modified new CDC and it was nowhere near as secure as they needed it. Cleveland was infection free and there was no way Saul or Powers was taking the chance of bringing in a bite victim. Testing infected victims was the reason for outbreaks in other areas and the reason the CDC collapsed. The only victim allowed was Saul and he was closely monitored.

The first new batch of serum would be ready for testing and for that a special team would chopper it to Louisville at the end of the day.

The second batch would go to Fort Jackson, South Carolina the following day. The final batch would go to North Carolina.

If all tested successfully, they’d begin a raw manufacturing process; find a second facility to help and simply, as best as they could, drop the serum to infected areas.

There was no way they could manufacture enough to help everyone, but if they could control the current outbreak, they could get a grip on it.

The Secretary of Defense assured Saul and Dr. Powers they were working on that.

For the most part, Saul and Dr. Powers were on their own, coordinating plans with the local National Guard to distribute the antidote.

The bright spot in the day was a young man of nineteen at the college campus radio who was able to make contact with military units still manning radios and waiting on orders.

Aside from the medical aspect leaping the hurdles, the military side was able to make some progress. While most had gone AWOL, the diligent ones, like Jack were there, on call, selflessly protecting the borders.

Nonetheless, a communication gap existed, a big one. Saul experienced that first hand. The main hub of the government, what was left of it, had limited communications as they sat in a bunker two hundred feet below a destroyed Washington DC.

The Secretary of Defense was able to communicate with Saul and Dr. Powers. Because of that, Cleveland was no longer just the new home of the CDC; it was the main military hub as well. Although Lance would oversee and have final say so, he turned over command of Armed Forces to Colonel Stilton, the highest ranking remaining officer of the Ohio National Guard.

Saul received word that Stilton was organizing as best as he could and operating out of that small radio station on campus.

So much was going on so fast, Saul was becoming a bit optimistic. But Saul knew the infection well. He knew how fast it moved and spread and how deadly it could get; because of that, Saul was also fearful that all efforts would just be in vain.

Chapter Fifteen

North Carolina

He had been at it for nearly three hours, and started just after his brother rode off on the motorcycle.

Steve checked and made notes on everything. He checked the fortress inside and out. Not that he didn’t trust Garrick, actually Steve was impressed with his brother’s preparations, but he needed to know everything for himself.

He had Lil inside counting stock with Irma. He was about twenty feet outside the fence, when he spotted yet another one. A perfectly round hole. It wasn’t the second or the third.

“Hey,” Lil’s voice called to him.

Steve looked up. She was walking toward the fence. “Hey.”

“Irma is playing mom again. Says you need a break, to get hydrated and have a snack or you won’t be able to keep this up in the heat.”

Steve nodded. “Okay.”

“Everything alright?” Lil asked.

Steve stood upright. “You aren’t going to believe this.” He started to walk. “But …”

“Steve!” Lil interrupted with a panicked, firm yell.

He heard her call at the same time he heard what sounded like a stampede. He took only a second to peer over his shoulder.

A herd of six deer charged his way. They moved at high speed and with frightening determination.

He didn’t look long, nor did he see if they looked normal or like that buck. He knew they weren’t normal. Deer didn’t provoke or charge humans.

Steve ran to the fence. He focused on that fence and on Lil who raised her weapon.

There was no way he was making it to the gate.

“Run, Steve, Run faster.”

Just as he felt the heat and caught the foul pungent odor of his pursuers, Steve leapt for the fence and hurriedly climbed.

The first of the deer rammed at the fence, shaking the hard steel to the point Steve almost fell. It lunged from him perched on its hind legs.

“Shoot it.” Steve cried out.

Lil did.

He made it to the top, dropped his clipboard, climbed over and then jumped the rest of the way.

He heard Irma scream as she stood in the doorway, holding Jerry. “Get back in. Lock up!” he ordered.

He spun, hoping she heeded his orders and then Steve, lifted his weapon. “Aim for the head.”

“No shit.” Lil fired.

“Damn it, they move faster than humans.” Steve tried to take a shot. He hit one, but not in the head. It kept going.

It took more rounds than they expected. Steve with a revolver, Lil with a rifle. The animals were in pursuit and it ended with four dead and two leaving.

Steve, before doing anything else, jogged to the house and opened the door. Irma was holding Jerry on the couch. “You guys alright?”

“Yes, yes, we’re fine,” Irma replied. "Are you, Steve. Are you ok?”

Steve nodded. “Just shook up.”

“Why did the deer attack?” Irma asked. “Did they have the virus?”

“I think so. I’ll be back. Just … just stay in here.” Steve pulled the door closed, walked across the yard and joined Lil.

She kept the back of her hand to her mouth.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“They smell. Are we going to drag them away? Burn them.”

“As horrible as this may sound, we need to leave them here. Maybe the smell may keep others away.”

“The fence will not hold if more return and attack it. Steel or not.”

“The house is strong. It’s not going down. The shutters are steel. They can’t get into the house. They … can’t.”

Quickly, Lil turned and looked at him. “What are you talking about?”

“We can see the deer coming. Hear them in herds that big. But then … I wouldn’t even know where to begin. I’m not even sure,” Steve said. “If they can’t get in.”

Lil’s lips formed the word ‘who’ and finally she squealed it out. “Who? What?”

“I found eight more burrow holes not far from the fence. Eight. Typically burrow holes are made to avoid, hide, hibernate or get to a place where there is a better food source.”

“Maybe the gofers are trying to get away from the deer.” Lil guessed.

Steve sighed out. “That’s a good possibility. I didn’t think that way. I feel better.”

She crinkled her brow. “Why? What were you thinking?”

Steve shook his head. “It’s silly. But I was thinking what if they were like the deer.”

Lil chuckled. “Zombie gofers?”

“No worse,” Steve said. “Zombie rats.”

Chapter Sixteen

Pittsburgh, PA

Walking was tough and to make matters worse, only a block into his journey, George’s leg broke.

Just broke. His calf, the recipient of the gaping bite wound, snapped in half and his ankle and foot were nothing more than an immobile object that dragged along the ground with each sluggish step.

He had to stop. Not that he was tired, he wasn’t, but it was becoming tedious to keep dragging the mutilated leg.

A half block more, he noticed crowds of people gathering around things. He was curious but didn’t see himself making it across the street. His legs loosened up some, not much and he aimed to sit on a porch staircase; but George toppled over and rolled to the ground. He grumbled and groaned and reached to people walking by.

One woman screamed, kicked him in the head and raced away.

Then he heard it. The ringing. He felt it jolt in his hand and George lifted his arm. His cell phone rang.

He couldn’t see who was calling, but George certainly tried to answer.

His arm wouldn’t bend correctly and he just kept smacking himself in the side of the head with the cell phone.

Everything was useless. Movement, thinking, the phone and, to top it off, George was hungry. A consuming hunger that took over his thoughts.

Getting help was his first priority, food the second. But until he could actually move, George decided just to stay on that sidewalk.

Chapter Seventeen

North Carolina

It was such an unexpected and funny comment, that Jack actually snorted a laugh which in turn caused Garrick to laugh loudly. A chain reaction.

They had stopped the armored vehicle by the entrance to the armory. It was clear and quiet and as they peered out, Garrick commented of the single, yellow, levered arm gate, “Wow, thank God the base has something that holds zombies back.”

It wasn’t that the comment was knee slapping, bend over funny. It was out of place. They were quiet, somber and tense as they approached the gate.

But their laughter resonated in the silence causing a stir from those who took it as a dinner bell.

They made their way at a better pace to the gate, not a huge mob, only a dozen, arms extended, groaning.

The noise level was too loud for it to be only a dozen, there had to be more in close.

Jack and Garrick raised their weapons only to hesitate and not fire a shot.

Garrick’s sarcastic joke, wasn’t all that much of a joke, when they mobbed forward, allowing themselves to be contained by the simple yellow arm.

Jack couldn’t help it, he laughed. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“How are they taking over the world when they don’t move extremely fast and they’re stupid?”

“Because they ….” Jack paused. “They’re changing. They definitely move faster.”

“That’s an easy one,” Garrick said as he held aimed and watched them. “The rigor mortis is gone. Plus, you know, gotta figure. The longer they’re dead, the more they’re probably losing sector memories of life. Becoming just … mobile robotic beings.”

“Vicious ones.”

Garrick nodded. “I see that. Can I shoot them now?”

“Yeah, let’s taken them out.”

And they did.

In the days following the attack, the armory had been picked through pretty good. Jack and Garrick had to settle for what they could find and the number one concern was having enough ammunition.

Garrick brought some, not nearly enough to make it to Pittsburgh if they ran into large groups of walking dead.

The base was not without them either. They didn’t just linger at the front gate. Soldiers in uniform had reanimated, along with civilians.

To Jack it looked as if they tried to help people and take them in; but that failed.

Jack knew better than anyone how one bite victim could change everything.

They traded up the armored vehicle for a reinforced Humvee. It would be easier on fuel and have more room to cart their VIP once they found him. And hopefully … alive.

The stop at the armory consumed two hours of their time, and after checking in with Lance they continued on.

Chapter Eighteen

Cleveland, Ohio

It was the third time Saul had a moment to try to call Irma, but it was the only time he actually made a connection.

Surprisingly, Irma answered the phone and her worried, yet relieved voice made Saul feel good.

“Saully, I haven’t talked to you in ages. How are you? How are you holding up?”

“Eh, I’m working hard, Irma. Very hard.” He paused. “How are you doing? How are you feeling?”

“I’m heartbroken, Saul, you know that.” She sighed. “But, Jerry, he’s made it tolerable. He’s my miracle and I don’t let him out of my sight. Here … wait …”

“Irma, I don’t have …”

“Pop-Pop. Hi!”

Saul’s hand went to his eyes and his heart thumped in his chest. “Jerry, baby, Pop-pop loves you.”

“Love Pop-pop. Home?”

“Soon. Soon.” Saul choked up and cleared his throat.

Irma returned. “He set down the phone and took off. Lil is with him.”

“Is she okay?”

“She’s holding up. Her husband is running around playing military hero, my husband is running around playing medical hero. How should we be?”

“Safe.” Saul said. “Just be safe.”

“Well, we are safe here. It’s quiet and removed,” Irma said. “Are you safe?”

“Surprisingly, yes, Cleveland is infection free. No outbreak.”

“Saully, you’re in Cleveland. Should I come there?”

“No. No. Stay put, God forbid there’s an outbreak. Stay.”

“My Aunt Rose lives in Cleveland, maybe Lil and I should head there. She has that big house.”

Saul shook his head, even though she couldn’t see it. “Irma, no, a week, maybe. But stay and I’ll send someone to look in on Rose. Irma …” He dropped his voice and walked from earshot of Dr. Powers. “We’re close. We may have it.”

“Have what?”

“A means to end this. Or rather stop it from progressing.”

Irma gasped. “Saully, really? Have you tested it?”

He looked at his hand. “Yes, yes, we have it works nicely. We’re testing it through distribution now.”

“You sound wonderfully optimistic.”

“I am. And Irma, know … I adore you. You are my life and I love you very much.”

“Saully, I love you too, but those are strong words, too strong to come from an optimistic man.”

“I just think from here on in, Irma, we should always say how we feel. And I am very glad I spent my life with you.”

“Me, too, Saully, me, too.”

He cleared his throat. “Well, I must go; I’ll try to get a connection again later. Okay?” He listened for her response, said his goodbye and ended the call.

Then Saul took a moment. Just a moment. He gathered his emotions, put them in check, placed his mindset on beating the infection and went back to work.

Chapter Nineteen

London, England

Another night had passed for Lucille and the day was long from over. She tried to get more sleep, but the hours were filled with nightmares about the undead. The latest one had Swanson rushing into her office, his arm bleeding, telling her she had to run, the dead had taken over the city.

But that was not the case. It was far from the case.

She didn’t understand how the Germans and American’s got it all wrong. Why did they fail to see the logic of the situation? Was it their attempts to be humane? While the rising of the dead was typically an occurrence in fiction, nonetheless, it broke those boundaries and became reality. Thus, in Lucille’s eyes, any fiction could be used as a guideline.

As cruel as it seemed, men, women and children alike, were executed immediately they were found to have a bite mark or scratch from an infected one.

The Germans failed to see that they were walking dead, didn’t aim to destroy the brains and, after shooting the infected believing them down and out, moved on. Most of those shot just reanimated.

The Americans cared for the infected, took care of the injured, so many inured that they were overwhelmed and when they turned … paid the horrible consequences.

Like when a friend that didn’t answer the ringing phone, the undead situation beat inside Lucille’s head. There were no answers and that was driving her insane.

She checked the time; she was due back in the meeting with the various heads of states.

But before she moved into those final hours of deliberation that could change the world, she picked up the phone one last time in an attempt to reach America.

Chapter Twenty

North Carolina

Irma rarely if ever put Jerry down. When Garrick took him to breakfast, that was one of the few times she did so. She always felt better when he was close against her. She played with the child’s curly locks as he slumbered in her arms.

“Just like Saul’s,” Irma said as she, Lil and Steve sat around the kitchen table. “Our daughter didn’t have curly hair. Had permanents been popular then, I would have had her get one.”

Lil smiled. “How did you guys meet?”

“We lived in different neighborhoods. Saul’s dad was a bookkeeper at the market where my father was a butcher. We were invited to Saul’s Bar Mitzvah. Oh,” she grabbed her chest, “I was a young teenage girl and it was love at first sight. Saul was handsome. He looked like a young Tom Jones.”

Lil, knitting her brow, said “Even Tom Jones is a little old for your generation.”

“Nah, my mother made me think he was a new rock star.” Irma smiled. “Anyhow, there was Saul, long curly hair, so dark and dashing. He was a little husky back then, but I knew. I knew that one day he was going to be my husband; and I remember waiting all night for him to ask me to dance.”

Lil asked. “Did he?”

“No.” Irma shook her head. “But he was the first boy I dated when I was fifteen. We’ve been together ever since. He is the love of my life. Just as handsome and sexy to me today as he was at his Bar Mitzvah.” She quickly looked up when Steve laughed. “And that’s funny?”

“I wouldn’t classify Saul as sexy.” Steve said.

Lil reached over playfully smacking Steve. “That is not cool. Women see sexy as different things.”

Irma nodded. "And I have seen your husband. Very handsome.”

“Thank you.”

Steve asked. “You guys have been together for a while. I remember my brother was there when you two eloped.”

Lil nodded. “Eight years.”

Irma asked. “A good marriage?”

Lil’s head dropped. “It was. I screwed it up. Jack … Jack was away and that is no excuse but I was unfaithful. And that’s why Jack went to Peru. To get away from me. I wish we had a better parting.”

Irma reached out grabbing Lil’s hand. “Your husband loves you very much. I am sure he knows you are sorry and I am even more certain of that; after all that has happened , he has forgiven you.”

Lil reached over gripping Irma’s hand. “I just miss him so much.”

“I know, honey, I know. I miss my Saul. But we will all see each other very soon. I am sure.”

“She’s right,” Steve said as he stood. “Both of your husbands worry about you guys. I’m envious. I wish I had that. One day… If all the women aren’t all the walking dead…perhaps.”

Irma just shook her head. “Where are you going?”

“I wanna check outside and have a smoke before we hunker down for the night.”

“Be careful.”

“I will.” Steve nodded. “I’ll be back.” He grabbed his half pack of cigarettes from the counter along with his lighter and flashlight, and walked outside. He could hear the women talking until he shut the door.

It was a peaceful night. Taking a few steps, he paused and lit a cigarette, inhaling smoke deeply into his lungs. He paced as he smoked; things seemed normal until he heard it.

A rustling. It came from beyond the fence. It wasn’t just a swish of leaves; it was a lasting sound. He lifted the flashlight and shone the beam searching for the source of the sound.

Nothing. He looked left, right, and all around the property. Steve could not see a thing. But the sound was there. It was constant. An immediate fear hit Steve. Something was out there or rather things were out there; and Steve knew exactly what they were.

Chapter Twenty-One

Pittsburgh, PA

Somewhere around the eighth block, when the sky began to darken, it dawned on George that maybe something wasn’t right.

His broken leg still dragged on the ground, yet George trudged on without pain. Some sort of sickness, like his father had was rampant through the city. Sick people groaned in the street. Wandering aimlessly, they attacked people, as had his father. . George hid, or at least tried to hide. But because of his leg, he had limited agility.

It took him a while to get up when he rolled on to the ground. When he first left his jeep, sirens blared, people ran. His phone rang a lot. But as the day passed and he slowly made the eight blocks, he barely heard anything except screams. The last police car he spotted was taken overwhelmed by the infected ones. Being scared, George kept his distance.

But unfortunately, with each step he took, he grew more hungry. He had never in his life felt so hungry. He needed something to eat. There was an aroma of food everywhere, but George couldn’t pinpoint it. However, it wasn’t an aroma as much as a fragrance; a favorable scent that seemed to permeate his body and mind, like a memory.

He was almost home, and was certain he had food there. He knew he was close when he spotted Mr. Carnes holding a hose out on his front lawn, he seemed tangled in it and he moved left to right reaching out to no one. Carnes, his face white and pale, also looked sick. George was grateful there still was a landline at the house. He’d call for help -- at least for himself.

Another few steps and he spotted his father.. Swaying back and forth, Hess was in shambles. George couldn’t believe it, sick one day and drunk another. How embarrassing. He lifted his arm to call out, but his arm would not go very far and when he opened his mouth, words literally got stuck in his throat.

Dismissing his quandary, George kept moving. He did watch his dad walking toward Mr. Carnes, seemingly to try to help him from that hose.

Just as George neared his home, he heard and smelled Bonkers. Bonkers was the small terrier from next door. He looked up to see Bonkers racing his way, fast and furious, barking up a storm.

Why was he able to smell him or rather sense the smell? But the closer Bonkers drew near, the better he smelled. He smelled welcoming, and endearing, like the smell of sizzling bacon and brewing coffee in the morning. He smelled rather delicious.

Bonkers leapt at Georg, growling and grabbing at his damaged leg. He pulled at the leg as if it were a dangling sock.

‘No, Bonkers,’ George thought, ‘Let go of my leg, it’s broken can’t you see.’

Bonkers pulled, then Bonkers nearly succeeded. The leg hung to the last thin ligament; then George toppled and fell onto Bonkers.

Bonkers tried to scurry from under him, barking ferociously. Then George, his eyes glazed over, grabbed him by the collar. Then as the dog squirmed furiously, George lifted him.

Yelp.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Washington, DC

Lance’s last communication was to Jack and confirmed that the friend had arrived. They took what supplies they could and began their trek to Pittsburgh. That was the last communication to anyone.

Everything in the bunker was shut down and they were on battery operated emergency lights, which were starting to flicker and dim.

CIA agent Wills had made it into the bunker with the small group and when the lights and power went down, he had gone exploring. He had been gone for well over two hours.

Don wiped the sweat from his brow and coughed. The air felt thin and stale from lack of air-conditioning, despite the fact that they had closed off unused rooms. He continued his pacing and was somewhat relieved when Wills returned.

Lance spun, “What’s the news, Wills?”

Before saying a word, Wills grabbed a bottle of water and took a deep swallow. “There are enough suits for everyone. Whether they can be perfectly sealed, remains to be seen. Now, as you know, radiation levels are high. Nonetheless, still low enough, that with the suits, even with exposure, we can be out there for a couple hours before becoming too sick. We should be good with minimal supplies, but all of us need to be armed.”

Don shook his head slowly. “I’m not understanding what you’re talking about. Weren’t you trying to restore power?”

“No, I was looking for a way out.” Wills said. “I found it.”

Don pointed with a trembling hand. “Way out? You want us to leave here?”

“Um, yeah,” Wills a nodded. “If you want to stay. Stay. I’m leaving. No power. No air. We have one means of escape and I don’t know how long it will be before something topples on that blocking the way.”

Lance asked. “Any idea where we should head?”

“Tim, when the cameras worked, it appeared that north was the least infested with brunt walking dead.”

Waving his hands, Don spoke frantically. “This is it. This is the last vestige of the government, right here, the last hub.”

Wills said. “And it’s a dying core. There are no communications down here now. That’s vital. We gotta find others. I would suggest a few of us go and look, but hell, the rest may be dead in a day or so. But, sitting in the dark, this is a useless arm of government. We have to get out of DC, and make contact otherwise, the world will assume we have become totally dysfunctional.”

“Haven’t we?” Don asked. “Hasn’t the world?”

The tech was the one who answered. “Last I knew it wasn’t as bad everywhere as here. But then slowly, almost minute by minute, we lost communication.”

Wills nodded. “And if we are the worst hit, that isn’t good; especially with communications down. Again, let us not waste more time.. We should at least pack up, get near the exit and, at first light, head out.”

Lance nodded. “I agree we have to do everything it takes to keep this government running. Hell, we have Jack finding Dodds and a potential cure for this thing. Yet, we don’t know the progress of our plans now in motion. Wills is right.” Lance said. “But, let me get this straight” he faced Wills. “You suggest we suit and arm up, carry minimal supplies, trot north with sparse landmarks as guides, cross a nuclear wasteland balls deep with radiation and all the while swimming through a sea of burnt, walking dead cannibals?”

“Yes, sir.”

Another nod from Lance. “Sounds like a plan.” He said. “Suit up.”

Chapter TwentyThree

North Carolina

May 15th

Growing up, hunting was a big thing for Steve and Garrick. It was something they enjoyed doing with their father and uncle. That was how he and Garrick learned all the basics of tracking deer. inside and out. One of the things Steve was all too familiar with was the mating call. That was what the sound reminded him of.

He barely slept the night before, frightened by what he imagined lay beyond their fence. Hearing the scurrying, Steve swore to check things every ten minutes. He looked out the window, trying to see if anything made it through. He had preached so much to Garrick that the compound wasn’t safe, that he actually wondered if he was creating danger in his own mind.

But when he woke at the crack of dawn and went outside, he knew … a plan had to be made. The animal cries rang out like an orchestra. They mimicked mating calls but only with an eerie tone. What all was out there? They were close and the scurrying and scuffling on the ground covering foliage grew louder.

Without a doubt something or some things were out there. Many of them. It reminded Steve of Peru, when the undead wandered the fields, encircled the compound, and prepared for the moment they would all attack at once.

He knew. He felt it. He could smell it in the air. The stench was overwhelming. There had to be hundreds. Unlike humans, animals didn’t know to run from each other. They were their own prey.

Gratefully he scouted the property and took note of all that was available to the group of living. Steve had spent the entire night working on a list.

While Lil, Irma and Jerry were still sleeping, he started getting their equipment and things packed..

What he didn’t know was whether the hordes of infected animals were everywhere or in just one region. Driving from the complex held its dangers. But it was the lesser of the evils. With the noise growing, a burning in his gut telling him it was only a matter of time, Steve started preparations. It was time to leave the sanctity and safety of the fortress.

Chapter TwentyFour

Cleveland, OH

Colonel Stilton desperately wanted and needed a briefing. Though Saul really didn’t want to take time out of his day to do so, he understood Stilton’s reasoning. Apparently, he was the only one left in command of the armed forces. No one had heard from Lance since the previous day.

Stilton overseeing Jack’s search mission needed facts. During the past twenty-four hours, he successfully had been able to pull in more troops from neighboring states and unaffected areas. But before he came up with a viable game plan, he needed facts.

“The way I see it,” Stilton said to Saul. “Is these things singularly aren’t difficult to handle, but they gather in masses. How did they get to be so many?”

“If the bite is lethal, the transformation to reanimation is immediate,” Saul replied. “It spreads fast, one person bites two they bite two. You can go from one infected to hundreds exponentially in several hours. Carlson, our initial survivor took out six people in his race down the hall.”

“Forgive me for these inane questions,” Stilton said. “I wasn’t told anything so how did an infection in Atlanta hit Washington State, Texas, Pennsylvania?”

“Four hundred troops were initially deployed to Peru. Not all were gathered from one base. The site in Peru was a time bomb; the longer they stayed the greater the chance of infection. These hundreds of men and women returned home, went their own ways, got sick, died, reanimated and started taking other people down.”

Stilton nodded. “Okay, you said head shots were the only effective means to termination” “Yes, destroy the brain, destroy the creature. The brain reanimates, the body works automatically. We have come across one infected who wasn’t dangerous. I’m sure there are others, but they are few and far between.”

“How out of control can this thing get? I mean it’s already there, are we looking at extinction level?”

Saul shook his head. “The undead are not paranormal creatures. They are not anything from the beyond. They are human. Medically speaking, a complete zombie apocalypse with hoards of the things walking the earth for years is not feasible.”

“What do you mean?”

“Humans are flesh and blood, the undead are no different. We are all biological entities. As with all living things, we eventually break down. There are three stages the undead go through.”

Stilton listened intently. “What are they?”

“First stage after reanimation they are slow. Rigor mortis sets in; they are unable to move quickly. Not agile, but deadly if they get to you. Stage two is the most dangerous. They move faster, rigor mortis is gone, they are agile, but that’s also when biology kicks in. Two to three days after death , putrefaction commences. Death of everything. Gasses trapped in the body form under the skin; balloon out until the skin rips and tears. A foul smelling liquid oozes forth. Once this stage is full blown, , the body starts breaking down. Things fall off. Their deadliest habit will cause them to break down even further.”

“And that is?”

“They eat people.”

Stilton winced.

“What they swallow, goes to the stomach. But they are unable to digest material. The stomach doesn’t break it down; it stays there, and the more they eat, the bigger the stomach becomes until eventually the abdomen tears open. The body is already decomposing, and once the abdomen bursts, it’s not long before the whole body separates.”

“So, in essence, a few weeks we have crawling dead.”

Saul nodded. “But that’s if they don’t create more. Remember that in Stage Two, they bite a few people. That starts the cycle all over again. Your best plan of action is to declare a shock and awe ground war.”

“My thoughts exactly,” Stilton said. “Will the weapon work?”

“Conceivably. The amount we have of the weapon will be limited until more can be created. So until then it should be used in large populations of the undead. Small groups, singular undead, should be taken out by troops.”

“Well, we need that weapon. How hard is it going to be to manufacture.”

Saul shook his head. ‘Not hard, it’s an easy formula. Dr. Dodds is the only one that has the … recipe you might say. I believe it is a combination of several things mainly mustard gas and hydrofluoric acid.”

“What does it do?”

“It causes liquefaction Necrosis.” Saul replied. “Death via liquefying. The vapors are like an acid. It eats the skin and turns it to mush. Our undead are half way there, so conceivably this weapon will finish them off quickly once the vapors eat through the skull.”

“Then we need Dodds here and we need him fast. When Sgt. Edwards radios, I’ll tell him to find Dodds and let me know once he secures him. We will then chopper them out.”

Saul sighed out. That, to him, was good news. He wanted Jack away from the areas and safe. In fact, he wanted Jack to head to the fortress to watch and take care of his wife and grandson. “Thank you,” Saul said. “In the meantime, the antidote is in final testing phase. I’m expected to hear back from camps. I know for a fact that it works. If we hit people with doses after they are bit, the cycle will be stopped and we can then eliminate those who have already changed.”

“What about using it as an inoculation?” Stilton asked as he stood.

“No, it’s an antidote.”

“Can’t it be used as a precautionary measure?”

“No,” Saul said. “It uses a manmade virus and synthetic bacteria to fight the infection in the blood.The synthetic bacteria beats the natural infection and the virus beats the synthetic bacteria. If you add the antidote into the bloodstream before hand, it could have disastrous results. One of our lab viruses kills the undead bacteria, but the virus by itself could be deadly. ”

“Maybe you should test it.” Stilton walked to the door. “We need a safeguard for my men and women.”

Saul replied with a strong. ‘No.”

“Let me try that again, Dr. Klein. I’ll bring you a volunteer. Thank you for the update. I’ll talk to you soon.”

Saul felt defeated on that point when Stilton left. It was not a good idea to test the antidote on someone not infected. Saul more than anyone understood the need to push the limits of science to benefit man. Saul was certain this was one avenue whose limits he wanted to avoid.

He already knew he had no idea what the long term affects of the antidote would be. Then again, personally, he would be one of the first to know.

Chapter TwentyFive

Pittsburgh, PA

The first words to emerge from Garrick’s mouth, when they arrived in Pittsburgh the previous evening were, “This was a joke, right, Jack?”

Jack kept repeating in his mind. “Oh my God.”

They came down a main road off the highway, making their way through abandoned cars. People, looking for help, cried out to them to stop. Jack wanted to stop, but he had to find Dodds first. What they didn’t see were the expected throngs of the undead.

Where were they? The plan was to go through one of the main tunnels leading into the city, and make their way to the Oakland section. Lance had told him that Dodds was in The Cathedral of Learning, the largest landmark in the area.

Jack could see it from the bridge. It wasn’t that far, but it might as well have been a hundred miles away. The bridge was destroyed three quarters of the way across.

Apparently, this was done in an attempt to lock the dead into a confined area. And there were a lot of dead there. Jack couldn’t see them, but he certainly heard them. Like a crowd cheering at a baseball game, their disharmonic moans carried through the air.

The sealed off city explained why Dodds was stuck. He had contacted Saul and Colonel Stilton once they arrived and told them they would have to find an alternate route.

But for the night, for safety sake they were stopping. They stayed in the tunnel.

In was in the tunnel that Jack and Garrick met a man and his teenage son. They were waiting in the tunnel for family that was trapped in the city. But the man was quickly giving up hope that any family was alive.

He told Jack and Garrick that the outbreak started in the city. When, two days earlier, it spread to surrounding areas, , city officials started what was called the Pied Piper Project. The ideas was to lead the undead into the city with decoys.

They did so by guiding them into tractor trailers by using bait. Live bait. Human bait. In herds the undead would follow and mindlessly load into the back of the trucks. From there they were driven into the city.

It was an ambitious project. When it began, the outbreak wasn’t bad. An exodus of the city commenced while the dead were being brought in. The idea was to seal off the city, using the three rivers to an advantage. Thus, there would be made an island of the dead of sorts.

But the plan fell through. The only positive aspect was that the infected seemed contained to the city and areas just outside. The further out, the less undead. But also the less people.

People fled.

In exchange for some food, the man gave Jack and Garrick an alternate route. In the morning, Jack checked with Saul again to see if he had heard from Dodds. He had, and he was still patiently waiting a rescue, perched and protected on the twentieth floor. Saul reported that Dodds said they would know for sure he was there when they arrived.

No shit, Jack thought, the Cathedral of Learning was an easy thing to see.

Jack just dreaded going into a city of nothing but undead. He hoped the tunnel man’s back roads through small neighborhoods and over the only remaining bridge would be the path of least resistance. After his phone call to Saul, they set out.

“We never found out his name,” Garrick said.

“Who?” Jack asked.

“The man. The son. We didn’t ask their names.”

Jack scoffed. “Is that important?”

“Actually, yeah, Jack it is. In a world without humanity, it’s the only little thing we have left. To know the names of those we encounter. I’d like to know their names when I pray for them.”

Quickly Jack looked at Garrick.

“What?” Garrick asked. “I pray. Don’t look at me like that.”

“To each his own.”

“I never knew you as an Atheist.”

“I’m not,” Jack said. “I’m just refraining from praying to a God that let this happen.”

“Man has free will.”

Jack laughed. “A rock from the sky brought this. Man and free will did nothing.”

“Maybe God tossed the rock down here on purpose.”

“Yeah, well, if that’s the case, it’s pretty fucked up. Don’t you think and I’d be too pissed to pray. Wouldn’t be sincere.”

With a sigh.” Garrick nodded. “I’ll remember you said that.”

Jack laughed again. “Why?”

“Because dude, when this thing is over and done. And it will be. The world will be a better place because people will have learned their lesson about killing and fighting. Then, when your life feels better, you’ll be thanking God for His tossing a rock at us.”

“I don’t think I’ll see that happen,” Jack said.

“You already did.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You told Lil you loved her and missed her. You miss and love your wife. Well, eight months ago you wouldn’t even look at her. Had this thing not happened, where would you be?”

Jack grumbled. “I don’t think all the loss of life is on the same level as saving my marriage. Even if it did help it.”

“You know that guy she cheated on you with is probably dead or walking dead.”

Jack kept driving.

“We can find him, take him out. You can shoot the man that slept with your wife.”

“Garrick …” Jack grumbled.

“Perfectly, legal, and dude, I swear if you shoot him and he wasn’t the walking dead, I’ll testify we thought he was. No one will care.”

“Garrick.” Jack scolded. “Can you concentrate on the directions? Man, so cold, and you were just complaining that we didn’t get that guy’s name.”

Garrick shrugged. “Think about it. Just making conversation. A little tension breaker, a mental vacation for you. You never asked …. I did. I know … I know who he is and where he lives.”

Jack quickly looked at Garrick. “Why?”

“Because I was gonna beat him up for sleeping with my best friend’s wife.”

“Lil was just as guilty.”

“Yes, she was. But I couldn’t beat her up and you already emotionally beat her for a lifetime, so he was fair game.”

“I did.” Jack swallowed. “I did beat her up emotionally and pretty badly at that. She was sorry, I felt that. But …” He sighed. “That’s behind us. All I care about is surviving and being with her.”

“See.” Garrick reached over and gave a friendly punch to Jack’s arm. “You can thank God any time now for tossing that rock.”

Jack groaned.

“We'll call it a post war hunting trip. Think about it.”

“Read the directions,” Jack shook his head with a smile. “And I’ll … uh think about it.”

Garrick grinned.

<><><><>

It was about the third time that George coughed up a fur ball, that he decided it was time, maybe to get a drink. He didn’t feel thirsty but Bonkers fur got stuck in his throat. He also didn’t know why he consumed Bonkers with such a passion. Maybe his entire life was meant to eat dog.

It was then when he walked into the empty home that he caught his reflection in the mirror. His face was full, his skin an ugly bloated look, some of it, looking as if it were splitting at the seams. George realized he was like all the other sick people. How pathetic he looked with the bloody mouth and patches of fur adhering to his face. What happened to him? He managed to turn on the sink, but couldn’t even feel the water against his skin.

He splashed his face anyhow, and began to leave the house. That’s when he saw it. The cat. She was half eaten, but yet, like George she kept moving. Only she was ferocious about getting into a closet. She scratched and banged her body against the closet door. What was in there that she wanted?

The nearer George drew, the better he heard it. The soft, young purring. Kittens.

She wanted the kittens on the other side of the door. Helpless, innocent kittens. George couldn’t let that happen. He moved the cat with his one good leg and managed, using his wrist, to open the closet. Six almost hairless kittens huddled together.

George knew if he didn’t do something they would die, so with his only free hand, he still had the phone in the other, George picked them up, one by one, by the scruff of their necks and placed them in his shirt and pants pockets. He’d get them out of there and keep them safe.

A part of him was filled with hope. Looking at the innocent kittens, eyes so wide, made him realize that life went on. But George knew his life couldn’t go on much longer.

He couldn’t live, nor did he want to live, looking and feeling as he did. No emotions, no physical feelings, feeling only hunger.

George was pretty certain, he was infected to the point of no return.

He saw the others, inane, angry, violent, and that wasn’t how George wanted to end up. He didn’t want to be a wandering empty soul eating animals out of sheer insatiable hunger. So he had to seek out help.

With the kittens purring and wiggling in his pockets, George left the house.

He had a plan. He had to find a way to die.

Chapter Twenty—Six

Washington, DC

It was cold. Even wearing the suits, the air felt as if it were winter. They stayed in the exit tunnel until first light, then Lance led Wills, Don and the others into the city. Or what was left of it.

Washington DC was in ruins. The skyline was a dismal dark gray. Sporadic smoldering fires were throughout the charred remains of buildings. There were very few recognizable landmarks with which to grasp directions.

They moved as a group even as the city crawled with the undead. Most of them were burnt, skin flaking from their bodies, they moved edgy and were fragile. It didn’t take even a weapon to take them down. A simple swat crumbled what was left and many times the head would roll off to the side, still biting, still … animated .

Lance knew it would take a lot longer than a few hours. Their small oxygen tanks didn’t hold much and it would not be long before they’d have to breathe the radiated air.

That didn’t stop them. They trudged on. They had to get out of the city. A city once bright , once energetically alive and symbolic of hope, was now a city reflective of the country itself … dead.

<><><><>

Pittsburgh, PA

George didn’t mean to eat the kittens. It just happened. He grew hungrier and couldn’t help it. The kittens went down with ease. George felt badly. He didn’t want to do it. Everyone time he said, ‘no more’ he ate another until all six were gone.

At least he didn’t get fur balls.

He estimated he had made it from the residential area closer to the main street of Oakland. He felt certain that somewhere on the main street he would find someone to give him the help he needed. Someone that could put him out of his misery.

Not that Georg felt miserable, but walking around with a non-functioning leg, skin peeling and eating animals was no life.

The Cathedral of Learning loomed on the skyline. Police had to be around there protecting the main campus from the infected ones. A few more blocks that was it.

Then George heard it.

A cry. A shrill loud infant cry rang out and it seemed as though all the undead roaming the streets hear it too. Like a school of fish. they all turned to followed it.

As did George.

Not that George knew for a fact that it came from the red brick home, but he guessed because the undead moved toward and into the home, flowing in like church goers going to Sunday morning service.

Indeed, the cry grew louder.

When George stepped inside, he was certain the crying baby was in the dwelling. However, George was different from the other infected. They were unthinking, moving things swinging their arms aimlessly searching for the baby.

George on the other hand followed the sound.

It took him into the back room.

The infected were there as well, aimlessly bumping into each other. It was hard enough for George to move, especially dragging his leg as he did. But he pinpointed the cry. It came from the huge armoire. But it wasn’t inside because the doors to the armoire were opened.

George looked up.

As best as he could, he climbed on the bed. Others followed like sheep and George kicked them away, swatting his dangling leg at them, He knew if they found the baby, they wouldn’t save it. He had seen what they had done to an old man in a wheel chair.

Balancing on his one good leg, George reached up. No sooner did his fingers touch the top of the cabinet, he felt the squirming. It was small. George grasped it, and awkwardly, pulled it down. A baby.

Like the kittens it was innocent, vulnerable.

George only had a second to look at it before arms and hands reached for it. . One second was all it took for George to know it was not infected. It didn’t … smell infected.

To protect it, George wrapped his arm around the baby as tightly as he could, jumped from the bed, caught his balance, and flinging his free arm at the infected with every step, hurried to the door. He had to get out. He had to get that child away before they got it.

<><><><>

Cleveland, OH

Tom Lewis was all of twenty-six years old. He was the volunteer. The only volunteer. Saul said a prayer as he prepared the syringe. The young man was hooked up to monitors in order for Saul to monitor his vital statistics. Saul begged the young man -- three times-- to reconsider not going through with the experiment.

The young man from Indiana replied. “Sir, I lost my mother, brother, wife and three year old daughter. I don’t want to reconsider my decision. Just make me a promise. If something does goes wrong, there’s a bullet in it for me.”

Saul nodded and solemnly said. “I promise.” And then he injected the young man.

<><><><>

Pittsburgh, PA

It was odd. Just on the outlying residential streets of Oakland, the undead massed together, moving in one direction. Moving, walking all toward the same goal.

They reached for the vehicle as it drove by, some attempted to get in it, but for the most part, they were focused.

“We have a few more blocks. They’re headed in the direction of the Cathedral,” Jack said.

“Well, let’s just get there, get Dodds and head to the roof,” Garrick replied. “Hopefully, Saul was right and that chopper won’t be waiting long.”

Jack had just spoken to Saul and told him they were just blocks away from their goal. Saul said he’d notify the Colonel.

Jack looked in the rearview mirror and thought ‘ We have good distance.’

“Look at this poor bastard, Jack,” Garrick said. “He’s dragging his leg.”

Jack shook his head.

“We should put him down.”

“We don’t have time, he’s just one.”

After a shrug, Garrick unwound his window to toss out his cigarette. Had he not done so, he would have never heard the cry.

Jack quickly looked at Garrick. “Did that sound like a baby?”

“Yeah, but maybe it’s a zombie baby.”

“Sounds pretty normal to me.” After a quick glance again in the rearview mirror, Jack slammed the breaks.

Garrick flew forward, cracking his head on the dash. “What the fuck.”

“He has it.” Jack put the car in park. “Look back.”

A steady stream of blood flowed down Garrick’s head. “Who has what? I need stitches. Oh my god.”

“That thing.” Jack opened the door.

“Jack, it’s probably dead ….”

Jack was out of the car. The leg dragging zombie was twenty feet away and he stopped. In his arms a wiry infant moved, barely staying in his grip. Jack walked closer, slowly pulling his revolver with each step.

“Jack.” Garrick called. “The group is closing in.”

“I think the baby is fine.” Jack said. He lifted his eyes. The mass of undead was a good two blocks away. But the man, the reanimated dead man holding the infant looked pathetic. “Garrick, hurry.”

Garrick caught up to Jack. “What are you doing?”

“This thing isn’t attacking. Look at the color of the baby. It’s normal.”

“Oh, man, this thing is like Juan.”

“Yeah, the little boy your brother took. Ok,” Jack dropped his voice to a whisper. “He’s gonna drop this thing. Just get ready.”

Garrick nodded.

“On my call,” Jack took another step. “Race and do everything you can to get that child.”

“It’s barely in his grip.”

“I know. One … two ….” Jack took a breath. “Three.”

The undead man cocked back when Jack and Garrick raced at him even though it was apparent he was trying to offer the baby to them. His grip relaxed and the baby started falling.

Garrick, with outstretched arms, dove to the ground and caught the child just as it was about to hit the pavement.

Jack extended his revolver to the zombie. “Is it okay?” he asked Garrick.

“Oh my God, Jack, it’s normal.”

Jack sighed out. “Take the baby to the car. Now.” He held the revolver point blank on the undead man. “This one isn’t attacking. Let’s just go.” Just as he was about to lower his aim. The man’s mouth widened.

Jack was ready. But not for what happened.

The voice was strained, gurgled, aching and barely audible , but it was clear enough to be understood when through his gaping, bloody mouth, the undead moaned out, “Kill … me.”

Jack’s heart thumped in his chest as he was consumed with an immediate shock and was slightly taken aback Jack obeyed the wishes. He lifted his hand again and fired a single shot into the undead man’s head.

Still somewhat in a state of shock Jack couldn’t move. Garrick called him.

“He spoke. He spoke,” Jack gasped then lifted his eyes to see the mass of undead moving faster. The firing of the weapon was a starting signal. Jack bent down to the man.

“Jack, come on!” Garrick yelled.

“I’ll be right there.” Jack rolled over the man, checking him. He saw the phone in his hand and pulled into from the clenched grip, then went to the back pockets.

“They’re closer. Let’s go.”

“Take the baby!” Jack continued to check the man.

Garrick made it safely inside the vehicle. He saw the mob closing in on Jack, then saw his friend race to the SUV and jump inside.

Jack started it and pulled out without hesitation. He tossed the cell phone to Garrick.

“What the hell were you doing?” Garrick asked. “Robbing him? You took his phone?”

“What the fuck, no. How’s the baby?”

“It’s fine. Probably hungry. But normal. What were you doing?” Garrick asked.

“It’s your fault, you know. You gave me shit for not knowing the name of a man who gave us directions; well, that one deserves for us to know his name.” Jack lifted the small card, looked at it and tossed it to Garrick. “George McWilliams.”

The driver’s license landed on Garrick’s leg. “Why the phone, too.”

“Everyone has pictures of their life in their phone now. We keep this child alive and we let it know who saved it.”

“Yeah,” Garrick nodded humbly as he cradled the very small infant. “But can we, Jack. Can we keep this child alive?”

“I don’t know,” Jack said. “But I sure as shit am gonna try.”

Chapter Twenty-Seven

North Carolina

The SUV was packed, and Steve thought he had more time. But, like an attacking army of animals, the undead massed together on the hillside above the compound.“This is insane, Steve,” Lil argued. “We’re safe in here. So what? Seal up, close down, hunker in. They can’t break in here.”

“I think we should listen to Steve,” Irma said.

Lil shook her head. “Garrick went to extreme measures to make this place secure. Hell, we have a stocked safe room where we can hide, it has an escape route. Where are we gonna go?”

Irma stuttered and then said “Cleveland. Saul said it is infection free.”

“Even Cleveland means we have to get off this mountain,” Lil stated. “If those animals are there, they are everywhere. We’re safer here.”

Irma shook her head. “Look at Steve. Would he tell us to run if he didn’t know something? He’s scared.”

“Yeah, I’m scared,” Steve said. “It isn’t the deer or wolves I worry about. Lil, I saw them. I just saw them. Hundreds, thousands. The deer can’t get in here, but they can.”

“What?” Irma asked.

“Ya ya, look.” Jerry, standing at her side, pointed down.

A mere foot from the baby’s leg was a huge rat. Half its body was gone; it’s eyes wide and white. It squealed and widened its mouth. Just as it lunged at Jerry, Irma lifted the child and a sent boot crashing down on the rat’s head, smashing the skull like a bug.

It took all that Lil had in her to slam her foot into the rodent’s skull and, out of breath, she nodded, “let’s go.”

All four of them ran for the door. Opening it was a mistake.

The overwhelming putrid smell hit them like a blast and then they saw them.. Rats. Rats were everywhere, on the SUV, on the front yard, all over the property. They cried out eerily. The open door was an invitation and a wave of rodents suddenly rushed their way.

Steve hurried and tried to slam the door, but so many barreled his way, he found it was impossible, though he struggled and fought. “To the safe room!” He cried out. “Hurry.”

Lil grabbed on to Irma’s arm, pulling her. “Steve come on.”

“Go. Go. I’ll be right there.”

No sooner did he say that, from the ceiling and vents, rats just poured in.

Irma screamed, Jerry cried.

Lil pulled her toward the back of the kitchen. The safe room.

“Steve!” Lil screamed out, opening the door to the safe room. She took a quick look inside, then pushed Irma in. “Steve.”

Steve managed to shut the door and he ran toward Lil’s voice.

Lil stood in the doorway of the safe room waiting. Steve peered over his shoulder.

The rats were at his heels blanketing the floor. There was no way he would make it into the safe room without bringing in his pursuers. He leapt forward but instead of jumping in that room, he slammed the door.

Inside, Lil screamed. She tried the door but it wouldn’t open. “Steve!”

“Lock it. Stay in. I have a ….” His voice trailed.

Lil knew the safe room well. She had to stay cool and calm. Think. She raced to the desk and the monitor sitting there and turned it on.

“What are you doing? We have to help him,” Irma cried.

“I know. But we have to see what’s going on.”

Surveillance cameras had been installed throughout the facility and Lil clicked on the keyboard turning them on. She closed her eyes briefly at the vision of a shot of outside. She then switched camera angles.

Lil wished she didn’t.

The main room of the fortress was overrun. She and Irma watched as Steve fought to get to the front door, only to be surrounded and then completely covered in rats. He kept moving, struggling, despite the fact that he was almost an unrecognizable figure beneath the cloak of rodents.

Lil shut off the monitor.

Chapter Twenty—Eight

Pittsburgh, PA

Jack and Garrick cheered and high-fived each other as they pulled in front of the Cathedral of Learning. Elated. they stepped from the vehicle.

If the carnage that lay in the perimeter of the Cathedral was an indication of the weapon’s potency, then Jack was certain they could win the war on the undead.

Not a spot of grass or concrete could be seen. The remains of at least a thousand bodies covered every square inch. They weren’t whole, in fact most looked as if they had had acid poured on them. Better than a bullet. Nothing remained recognizable except for pieces of clothing or a leg, possibly a hand.

They had been turned into a gelatin substance and, in some cases. had liquefied to a thick mud-like substance. Swarms of flies were everywhere. The unsightly substance was ankle deep as they walked to the doors.

The baby cried. They had made it. But their celebration and joy was short lived when the massive movement of undead caught up to them and ran their way.

Jack and Garrick raced to the doors.

Locked. And through the double glass door they could see that a steel gate was drawn.

The mob advanced closer.

For the first time, Jack had a foreboding feeling of doom. Through the reflection he saw the undead were not far from them. It would be a matter of seconds before they were overtaken.

Just then the glass broke, the gate slid to the side and the door opened.

“Hurry,” the young man urged them as he held open the door.

Jack and Garrick slid inside and the young man, shutting and locking the door, slid the gate closed.

The young man apologizing said, “I’m sorry. I didn’t think they were on your … is that a baby?”

Garrick nodded. “Yeah, it is.” He looked over his shoulder.

Jack peered back. So many undead bombarded the door he wondered how long it would be until they broke in.

“Doc’s gonna have to drop another.” The young man led them down the empty hall. “We’ll have to get up top to be at a safe distance.” He pressed the elevator button. “We still have power.”

“So Dr. Dodds is here?” Jack asked.

The young man nodded. “He is. This way. Are you guys the rescue party?”

Jack replied. “Yes we are.”

“Not very many of you,” the young man said as the elevator lifted.

“No worries,” Jack said. “We have a chopper coming.”

“Hope it’s big.”

Before Jack could ask why the young man made such a statement, he saw.

Stepping from the elevator, they weren’t just greeted with the sight of another hall, they were greeted with the sight of a large crowd of young people.

<><><><>

Jack surmised the question: “Is that a baby?” would be asked often and he had to get used to it. There had to have been a hundred college students in the hallway of the twentieth floor.

Many of them commented about the baby. Even Christopher Dodds did the second he saw the child; but, before anything else, he examined the baby. The child, Jack learned, was a boy. He was no older than a month.

Dodds said the child was dehydrated and jerry rigged a bottle. He wrapped the finger portion of a rubber glove around the tip if a pop top water bottle. It would have to do until Jack got the baby to Cleveland.

Dr. Dodds or Doc as the students referred to him, looked like a throwback from the 1960’s and he wasn’t even old. His long graying hair was pulled into a ponytail and strands dangled in his face. He was a thin looking man, with a worn face.

He walked to the locked cabinet across the lab, opened it and pulled out a metal case a foot long. After punching in a code, he lifted the lid.

“Whoa. Whoa. Wait.” Garrick exclaimed backing away with the baby. “Is that the weapon? Should it be out in the open like that?”

Dodds smiled. “Man, you think I’m that dumb.” He lifted a pellet; it looked like a gumball from a machine. “This casing isn’t easily broken and must drop at least 100 feet for it to weaken enough to crack and release the vapor. This little thing can take out a square mile.” He walked to the lab door and called out. “Hawkins, everyone accounted for?”

“Yeah, Doc.” A young male voice replied.

Dodds shut the door and walked to the window. “Wanna make sure the students aren’t anywhere near ground level.” Without missing a beat, he walked to the window and peered out. “Nice gathering. The first time I used one of these, there was actually a group, protesting the treatment of the undead. Can you believe that? Protesters! Then the undead descended on them and I had to use the pellet.” Then, with a deep sigh, he dropped it. “Give it a minute.”

Jack wasn’t going to miss it and he flew to the window like an excited kid. There wasn’t really a visual vapor, no sound, just undead who went from reaching out and moaning, to just falling down. They struggled a bit not realizing what happened. They kept going until their bodies melted onto the grass mixing with the previous remains.

“Wow, that’s fast,” Jack said.

“Yes, very,” Dodds answered. “In the immediate vicinity it is almost instant. Thirty to forty-five seconds. If you’re distributing a wide area, it takes up to five minutes maybe a bit more.” He returned to the case, shut the lid and handed it to Jack. “Code is 122579. Easy to remember Christmas, 79. There are eighteen remaining. Use them with caution. I kept three.”

“Wait a second,” Jack said. “You aren’t going?”

“There are close to a hundred students here. I can’t leave them.”

“But we need more than eighteen pellets. They are counting on you to make more.”

Dodds shook his head. “I can’t go. It isn’t right.”

“We can’t save these kids and give them a future with eighteen pellets. Doc, please.” Jack beckoned. “I will send back for them. I promise. Leave them a means of communication and in a day we’ll come back. Send a Chinook for the first group.”

Dodds stared at him.

“I give you my word,” Jack said with sincerity. “If I have to come here myself to get them out, I will. But for right now, please. Come with us.”

The baby cooed loudly at that moment and Dodds looked at the child, then Garrick, then to Jack.

<><><><>

North Carolina

Lil had to get it together. She simply had to. But she was an emotional mess and was having a hard time figuring out what she should do. The safe feeling became like a rug swept out from under her. The fortress was supposed to be impenetrable.

She swore her heart was beating so fast it would pound out of her chest and she’d die.“It’s okay, sweetie, it’s okay,” Irma kissed the boy, rocking as she sat in a chair. “YaYa is here. Lil?”

Lil spun around from the desk.

“Are you okay?”

“No.” Lil shook her head. “I’m a mess and I’m not thinking clearly right now. Steve … Steve …”

Irma closed her eyes tight. “He was a good man. He knew. He knew if he chanced coming in here they’d come in too. He didn’t want them in here. Rats are crafty; they can sneak through the smallest space.”

It was at that second, staring at Irma, looking at innocent Jerry and hearing her words that Lil snapped to.

Tight space.

“Fuck, the vents!” She pulled over a chair, and standing on it, reached for the ceiling. Not only did she close the vent but she shifted the plastic seal over it. Moving the chair, she did the same to the other vent as well.

The room wasn’t big. Eight by eight, not including the packed shelves. Shelves that had oxygen, food, water.

“Alright,” Lil exhaled. “Vents are closed. There are no windows. We’re good.”

“Are we in an airtight box, Lil?”

“For the time being, but we have oxygen. We’re good. Eventually, like all animals, they’ll move on. Especially if they can’t smell us.” Lil peered up to the scratching sound.

“What was that?” Irma asked. “I thought you sealed the room.”

“I did, but the duct work isn’t sealed.” Her breath shivered. “We just have to think.”

“Phones?” Irma asked. “Do you have your phone? I have mine. Can we call for help?”

Both women pulled out their phones.

Lil cringed. “Mine’s dead. Damn it.” She tossed the phone down.

“I don’t have a signal.” Irma stated.

“Probably won’t get one in here.” Lil, hands on hips, turned left and right. Then she saw it. A land line phone. Immediately she ran for it and lifted the receiver. “I got static, but a dial tone.” She set down the receiver.

Irma was on her feet and moving around the room, holding her phone. “I’m still not getting anything. Can we dial out on that phone? Even if it’s a bad connection.”

Lil bit her lip. “We can. But I have no clue what number to dial. I am such a product of technology, I never remember numbers.”

“I do.” Irma rushed to the phone. “Saully had the same phone since they first came out. Oh, look it’s a rotary phone.” Irma handed Jerry to Lil and lifted the receiver and dialed. “I forgot how tedious this was.” After she had finished, she placed the phone to her ear. “Still a lot of static. But ringing. It’s ringing. Saul!” Irma’s glance shifted toward Lil. “Saul … thank God. Yes. Saul. Listen … I know you can’t hear me, so I’ll repeat. Help us. Help ... us... We’re surrounded. Send help as fast as …” Irma cringed. “Saul? Saul?” She hung up. “Dead.” Her eyes raised up to the ceiling. “I’m betting our rodent friends got to the line.”

“You’re so calm,” Lil stated. “How can you be so calm?”

Irma took Jerry into her arms. “What choice do I have? Should this child need to see me upset? No. We’ll stay calm Lil. Saul heard me. Help will be here.” Irma walked to the chair and sat back down. “It’s just a matter of when.”

Chapter Twenty—Nine

Pittsburgh, PA

“Is that a baby?” asked the co-pilot of the helicopter.

Jack wanted to say, “No, you asshole, what the fuck do you think it is?” but he refrained.

“It needs bundled and ears blocked,” the pilot instructed. “Noise is too much.”

Garrick nodded. “How the hell do I block its ears?”

“Here.” Dodds handed him a piece of paper from his pocket. “Plug his ears with this.”

“Thank you,” Garrick said. “And thank you for coming along.”

Holding the box, Dodds stepped into the chopper, but paused to look at Jack. “It was his eyes that assured me these students won’t be forgotten.”

“And they won’t,” Jack replied looking back at the building with the students. As he prepared to help Garrick onboard, his phone rang. He grabbed it and looked down. “Saul.” He answered it. “Saul … hey, all secure. Ready to head back. I’ll be seeing you soon.”

“Things have changed, Jack,” Saul said. “We have problems.”

Jack stepped away from the bird and listened to Saul.

<><><><>

London, England

Lucille had emotionally and verbally battled for nearly two days straight. She had met with the heads of state from twenty four countries. A unanimous vote had to be achieved. At first it was divided, and then the numbers shifted until finally, she was the only voice and vote that opposed the decision. Her heart was breaking. Even though it was out of her hands, she felt she could have done something. Anything.

The outbreak was out of control and it was only out of control in all of North America, the United States, Canada, and Mexico.

She argued that as long as no physical contact was made, as long as no one went in and out of the country, then it as no threat to them.

The other heads of state disagreed. With so much disease, who was to say it wouldn’t mutate, and something as simple as a bird, couldn’t carry it to a nearby ship or country.

Action had to be taken; the human race was at stake. Finally, Lucille gave in on a condition. Three days. She wanted three more days to see if she heard anything from the United States.

Granted Canada and Mexico both reported being buried in the problem, there was nothing from America. Perhaps, they had a solution. Perhaps not. Three days. Lucille had three days to get in touch with the States. The clock was ticking. If she heard nothing or the situation wasn’t being controlled, then in three days the situation would be over. And the decision was that as a joint campaign venture, North America would be burned out.

<><><><>

Cleveland, Ohio

Saul wasn’t hopeful. He wasn’t confident. He was scared. Irma didn’t cry, didn’t sound desperate, she sounded strong. Despite the fact the connection was bad, he heard the words ‘help’ and ‘surrounded’

Medical duties be damned, Saul contacted Stilton. What could they do? If it was conceivable Saul would have driven to the fortress himself.

And before he called Jack, Saul was able to put together a plan and set it in motion. Stilton said he could fuel a Chinook for the rescue, in fact, he could have sent one out right away, but the problem was no one except Garrick knew the exact location of the Fortress.

So as soon as Jack and Garrick landed at the air base, they’d fly directly out to get Irma, Lil, Jerry and Steve.

Jack assured him once more that the fortress building had high concrete walls. That helped Saul some. Even if the building was surrounded with the living dead, they couldn’t get through the concrete walls.

It was simply a matter of time and he prayed that Irma and Jerry just held on a little more. Hours. Just a few more hours. He took a moment, had a glass of juice, and readied himself to return to his volunteer patient. He wanted to monitor him personally.

As he grabbed his pen, a weird tremor hit Saul’s hand. His middle finger and thumb shook out of control and a tingle shot up his arm. He squeezed his hand into a fist, and when he did, the healing bite wound pulled some. The feeling subsided, and Saul lifted the pen.

His head hurt and the lights were bothering his eyes. He had been up far too long and was under a lot of stress. Walking down the hall to the observation room, Saul heard the calming sound of the steady heart monitor. It beeped perfectly. At least the volunteer was strong.

He paused at the desk to check out the vitals. Heartbeat, good; BP, normal; oxygen level, good. Respiration was a little fast, but that was too be expected. Lewis was probably nervous.

He moved to the window to peek inside. The bed was empty. Where was Lewis?

No sooner did he think that ... Slam. Palms first and flush, Lewis smacked against the glass. He hit it again. Wires still attached. He stood there staring at Saul.

His eyes were a gray green, missing the pupil. His skin color was nearly white but the blue veins were predominant and pulsed outwards. The inside of his mouth had deepened in color and Lewis slowly gnawed on the window.

Then Lewis stopped, hit his hands again, locked eyes with Saul with a frighteningly bizarre and sinister smile.

“My God,” Saul whispered. “What have I done?”

<><><><>

North Carolina

“This is not how I wanted to die,” Irma said calmly. “Nor he.”

“Yeah, me either.” Lil sighed out. “But no one says we have to die.”

Irma kept her hand on Jerry’s face. They didn’t worry about the oxygen in the room. Tiny chew holes appearing in the ceiling and around the sealed vent limited their time.

“Are they still out there?” Irma asked.

Lil nodded. Not that she had to answer. Not that Irma had to ask. The sound of them, squealing, scratching, biting was so loud. They didn’t need a camera. But they looked anyhow, on the outside chance the rats had only moved into the walls. As far as she could see into the living area, they were there. Outside, she didn’t know. The cameras were black. Only a hint of sun peeked through here and there. That told her the entire building was covered and so were the cameras.

“Oh God.” Irma groaned in a whisper. She looked up.

Lil did to. Three or four tails dangled down, and from another hole, tooth filled mouths worked hard to eat a way in.

“There’s got to be a way to cover them.” Lil looked around.

“If they ate through that, they’ll eat through anything.”

“But it buys us more time.”

“And when we’re out of time, Lil?” Irma asked. “Have we thought about that? Have we thought of a better way to meet our maker?”

Lil’s head dropped, she looked at Jerry.

“I don’t want him eaten. I don’t want rats crawling on my baby. I can’t …” Irma paused and a single sob escaped her. “I can’t watch him die. I can’t watch him die like that.” She cradled Jerry closer. “He’ll cry and scream and I won’t be able to do anything. If they get in here …”

“If they get in here, if we lose the battle,” Lil said. “We’ll cross that bridge. I promise you from the depths of my being that child will not suffer. Nor will you, Irma, nor you.” Lil eyed the pistol sitting on the table. “But I’m not giving up hope. Not at all.” She took a step toward Irma. “That little boy is my primary focus. We are not out of options.” Lil paused. Her eyes widened.

“What? What is it?”

Slowly Lil looked down. She stood on a small throw rug and the floor beneath it moved and shook. Within a second, it bounced Lil.

“Oh my God,” Irma gasped. “Are we out of options?”

Lil only looked back down.

<><><><>

Jack wasn’t worried, not at all. He knew the fortress and he knew how much work Garrick put into it to make it safe and strong. They just had to get in, get them, and get out. He couldn’t wait to see Lil. Hold her, know for certain she was safe. And she would be with him.

“The only weakness is the roof,” Garrick told him loudly as they neared the compound. “And I don’t think those things can climb up there. And if they did, there’s the safe room.”

“They called from a landline. Saul was certain.”

“Then they’re in the safe room. Sealed in.”

“So, we get there, things are all around. Can we use the pellet? Is that room air tight?”

Garrick nodded. “Dodds said they should be fine.”

“I don’t know. Maybe we should just shoot them all.”

“Holy shit!” the pilot called out. “I don’t think you have enough ammo. Or even if you two are that good of a shot. Take a look at that!”

Jack wished he hadn’t looked but then, he didn’t have a choice.

He saw a dozen or so deer, obviously infected, running around the perimeter of the property. But he couldn’t see the fortress. There had to have been tens of thousands of rats on the property, covering the house so much it looked like an ant hill from the sky.

“Are they in there?” the pilot asked.

Garrick murmured. “Unfortunately.”

With a hard swallow, Jack reached into his front pocket and pulled out the pellet. “Let’s drop it. It’s our only hope.”

According to Dodds they had to drop the vapor pellet, fly off and stay high and at a distance for at least five minutes. It proved to be the longest five minutes of Jack’s life.

The chopper had to hover high up and even then, Jack wasn’t certain the pellet would fall correctly.

When they returned they saw that it had. Outside the perimeter, a single deer remained, it struggled to run with its hind legs gone and with half of its abdomen nothing but guts. It dragged itself on the ground, pulling apart with each foot it moved.

But the fortress was clear. The vapor totally eliminated all the rats. All that remained as a black tar looking substance that painted the walls, roof and grass.

There was nowhere for the chopper to land, so the pilot hovered.

“We have to watch fuel. You have five minutes. Get your people and get out!” the pilot hollered.

Jack and Garrick acknowledge the instructions and both lowered quickly to the ground. The chopper took off.

They had five minutes and not a second to spare.

“Lil!” Jack called out. “Lil!”

“Irma, Steve!” Garrick followed.

They rushed to the door, still calling out. Garrick didn’t hesitate, he opened the door. It barely moved. The sluggish remains of the rats thickened the opening motion.

Jack’s hand shot to his mouth. “Garrick, please tell me that room is sealed.”

Garrick moistened his lips. “Yes, yes, Jack. It is. This way.”

Jack’s feet slipped and sloshed through the remains as he followed Garrick to the door of the safe room. He reached into his pocket, pulled out a set of keys and unlocked the door.

Garrick froze when he opened it.

“Lil!” Jack shoved by Garrick, burst in and stopped.

“What now?” Garrick asked.

“I don’t know.” Jack’s heart sunk in his breathlessness. He tossed his hand in defeat. “I just don’t know.”

A few drizzles of black liquefaction remains darted about. But there were no rats. There were no signs of a struggle, no blood. Nothing but a lone cell phone lying on the floor.

Absolutely no sign of Lil, Irma, Jerry or Steve.

The room was empty.

They were gone.