Chapter Three

    

     Darkness began to creep up on us. We had made it back through Indiana when we started losing the last bits of daylight. I had ordered us to head back to New Chicago, in hopes of saving them from the same fate as New Detroit. My hopes were up that we would make it there in time yet time was something we didn’t have.

               Morale among my men seemed very low. Talking amongst ourselves seemed to be the farthest things from everyone’s minds. Tim’s death brought to light our own mortality, leaving us all with a horrible taste in our mouths. I felt so responsible for losing him; someone else’s blood was on my hands once again, I had to choke back the tears. The burning in my stomach was becoming ever more apparent now, my concussion still in full swing.

               As the last shards of daylight faded away, Marcus pulled us in between the two stretches of 94 where we would have to camp until morning. As we stopped, Ethan set up the security grid around the APX, a 200 foot intricate laser grid that would pick up any movement within it, pinpointing it with a .50 caliber rifle from a turret atop the vehicle. Walkers caught within this didn’t stand a chance. However, this also confined us to the interior, so it was eat, sleep or talk. Since talking was sparse, and we were all either tired or hungry, this didn’t really matter.

               My concussion was prohibiting me from sleeping, at least 24 hours, so I needed to eat, my body feeling weak, and most of what I had in my stomach I lost back at the bank. Our food consisted of M.R.E.s (meals ready to eat), powdered food, when added with water and heated with the heat pouch, which was actually not half bad, if u closed your eyes. The menu included mac and cheese or ham and eggs. Neither one was my favorite, but I could stomach the mac and cheese. It was a hell of a lot better than the ham and cheese, I’ll tell you this. Eating these definitely took me back to my days in the Gulf War, what I wouldn’t give to have those days back right now.

               The doctor grabbed a canteen of water and a meal pouch. I could tell she was tired, but hunger must have outweighed that because she looked eager to eat anything. She had ditched her tattered business clothes for a pair of gray jogging pants and white t-shirt that hung off her frame like clothes on a line. They definitely weren’t flattering to her curves. She sat down next to me, eyes staring at me in playful curiosity. “What you thinkin bout?” she asked. She could tell my mind was a million miles away.

               “I’ve just been thinking about the way the world used to be. The little things we took for granted that are gone now. Better days that always brought a smile to my face.” I explained. She could sense the tension and sadness in my voice. Since the day I found myself alone months ago, it seemed I wasn’t much to talking to anyone about my past, or what I was thinking. Opening up and getting close to someone seemed to be hard for me now, and losing Tim didn’t help at all.

               “I think we can all take stock in that. Thinking about the good times help to keep us sane.” Her words washed over me reassuringly, like a waterfall. Something about her appealed to my softer side. The feminine presence was definitely something we all needed to lift our spirits a little. “You never told me your name captain?” she asked. I could see the intuitive nature building up inside her. She could also tell I wasn’t much into the conversation, yet I did my best to accommodate her.

               “It’s Daniel, but you can call me Dan.” I looked up from my meal, my eyes met hers. The one thing her eyes radiated more than anything was a soft understanding that made it easier for me to open up.

               “Wish we could have met under better circumstances. Times like these it’s hard to imagine meeting anyone anymore. I’m sorry about your man back there. I can’t help but feel partly responsible. He died at my expense!” I could see a tear roll down her cheek.

               “Sometimes causalities happen; it’s an unfortunate circumstance of war. My men and I understood the sacrifice. We knew our chances would be slim when we took on this mission. Believe me, it’s not your fault at all.” I tried to assure her the best way I saw fit. “His name was Tim. He was the youngest in our group. My first lieutenant is Marcus, Todd is the second lieutenant and the other privates are Shane and Ethan. We all met at BC New Chicago. We are the D.D.R.S.”

               “And what might the D.D.R.S. be captain?”

               “Decedent Disposal and Rescue Squad, we were formed to find survivors and destroy the walkers that we found along the way. You were our first find.”

               “I just hope we don’t lose anyone else.” She would never understand exactly how much I agreed with her. These men were my responsibility, my loss, my sorrow. With a nod, I turned away for a moment, my meal hiding my pain. “So were you always active duty? I mean, were you military when the virus hit?” she asked. I searched for the answer. Half of me wanted to shut off now. Getting close to someone else meant losing them and setting me up for more pain. I didn’t know if I could handle this again, yet something inside me was drawn to her, like a moth to a flame.

               “I retired a captain in 2005 where I moved back to Severn, MD., my hometown. This is where I married my high school sweetheart. We had a beautiful son together. I was offered a job working for the Department of Defense as a technical analyst. Things were going good. I had a big house, a family and God. I paid my taxes and went to church every Sunday. Unfortunately, I also took everything for granted and he took them away!” the anger and frustration began to build in my voice. “We were in church when the walkers attacked. I had gone to the bathroom for five minutes when walkers busted through the church doors and attacked everyone in the pews. When I came out, there was blood everywhere. I stood there in horror and watched people being eaten to death right in front of me, including my wife and son. I was frozen. As the walkers seemed contented with the meal they had, I found my feet and ran out of the church. There were walkers everywhere! The only thing I could do was run. I found a truck with the keys in the visor, and drove until I ran out of gas. Once on foot, I fought my way as far west as I could, making it to New Chicago. Once there, I was reenlisted and given the responsibility of assembling the team. We set out New Years’ Day for our trek. It was lucky we found you, yet your news of New Detroit is distressing, I fear we may be too late!”

               She looked at me with a compassionate heart, her eyes showing sorrow in its purest form. Pity was something I wasn’t looking for.

               “So what is your story doctor? Were you married?” I asked. I felt silly asking this, like the geek asking the head cheerleader out. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…………I just was curious about you.” My schoolboy innocence made me shy away.

               “It’s ok.” She stated as she placed her hand on my knee. “I’ve always been a pretty busy person, never really had time to date, let alone work on a lasting relationship. The last guy I had dated was back in high school. In college, I spent all my time working hard toward my degree. Epidemiology was always a fascinating field to me, working to better society as a whole. When I graduated, I had already taken a job offer working for the CDC. Given the circumstances, I’m glad I had. Never being married had given me nothing to lose. Oh, I’m sorry! I meant…..” she trailed off. I really hadn’t been listening to the last part. She just seemed to intrigue me with her beauty and brains. I just wanted to know more of what she was than the outside.

               The tears began to well into her eyes as her pitch changed; sadness seemed to flow out of each word that left her lips. “I miss my parents. The last time I heard from them was on Thanksgiving. They video chatted with me from the confines of New Orlando. Everything seemed fine, but now I fear they are gone too!” I understood that all too well, more then she knew.

               “Believe me doctor; we will do what we can to get you to them, whatever the cost.” Being a man of my word, I would definitely try.

               “Please, call me Brie.”

               For a moment we just sat there, looking into each other’s eyes, studying the other. The heat that began to radiate off us was enough to keep the entire inside warm without the heater. As she dropped her eyes to continue her meal, a smile cracked across my lips. She definitely brought out a different side of me.

               It had probably been a good hour since the last words of our conversation were spoke. Sitting in silence was beginning to grate on me. I looked over to her. “So doctor, you said you know something about this virus? Care to share?”

               She turned toward the burlap sack she had brought with her and pulled a brown manila folder out and laid it on the table in front of us. Todd, looking much like the things that

were hunting us, came up behind us. “Ethan is going to take first watch. The rest of us are going crash. You ok?” he asked me.

               Like a flash, the doctor answered for me.  “He’ll be fine, lieutenant, he just needs to stay awake for the next 24. Make sure whoever does watch, watches him as well!” Todd turned toward me. Even I could tell he was a bit impressed.

               “Well, goodnight y’all. We’ll see you in the am.”, and with that he slipped off to the bunks. Ethan propped himself up in front of the monitors videoing the four areas outside our transport. The doctor looked at me. “So have you all just known each other since New Chicago?”

               “Yeah, I chose them based on their expertise. The best men for the job, that’s my motto. So is that what I think it is?” I asked, knowing full well that by the classified stamp across the front it must have been information about the virus. The label on the side read “ZF001”. I opened it to a group of photos, photos of a blob with hair covering its entire shape. “I see you’ve met my old mother-in-law.” I joked.

               She smiled. It was the first time I had seen her smile since we had met up. It was more beautiful then I had even imagined it was. “That is our problem, Zombificus Influenza, otherwise labeled ZOM-FLU. This highly developed strain, not unlike its brother, starts off in much the same way; fever, chills, vomiting, all the tell-tale signs of the regular flu. This is why it was so hard to detect.” She continued to explain the virus to me. “Here is the difference. As far as I can tell, while the body’s immune system is broken down, the virus then acts as a parasite, working its way into the brain. Once there, it attacks neurologically, killing the brain’s natural cells. It then multiplies and begins taking over all motor functions and thought processes. Test subjects were killed by the virus within 6 hours of contamination. Once the host dies the virus then takes over the brain, reviving the host into what we see now, the zombiesque state.”

               I just sat there and tried to take this all in. How could the flu do this? It seemed so impossible for something so small to cause worldwide panic and death, yet in this world it wasn’t impossible to think about all the horrible things that have transgressed throughout history. Why not realize that the end  of the world would be caused by minute cellular organism? Who would have thought?

               “The virus needs blood to sustain its life within the host. Hence why they attack and eat uninfected living beings. The virus is well advanced beyond any scope of treatment. I have tried every known anti-biotic to try and kill the virus, yet nothing has worked, and I fear there is no cure!” she explained, the anxiety building in her voice.  “The worst part is, the virus is highly intelligent. It knows the difference between hot and cold, pain and fear. It can react to any given situation it is put into. This is why you and your men did not originally come into contact with zoms when you first reached Ann Arbor. They were holding up in the buildings to keep the hosts warm. It wasn’t until they smelled the living, breathing tissue that they come out to feed. The larger the group, the more zoms come out to feed.” Wow! I was blown away by how much this sounded like bullshit, yet the doctor was the only thing I had to go on about what we were up against. A killer intelligent virus? Definitely sounded like science fiction.

               I looked through the rest of the file. Papers on test subjects showed the amount of intelligence that the virus carried, subjects put into extreme conditions to show their level of smarts. From the look of it, the virus was one of the greatest scientific finds of the 21^st century; yet, we wouldn’t survive long enough to relish in the benefits. The million dollar question entered my mind as I turned in horror to the doctor, “How do we stop it?”

               “Cut off its food supply! When the food runs out, the virus will die off.” She explained, “Let’s just hope we can sustain longer than them!”

               After hours of looking through papers and documents, talking to Brie about the plans we were going to have to make in order to survive this onslaught, it was evident that she was getting tired. After a brief adieu, she retired to the back to get some badly needed sleep. Shane had taken post in the turret and relieved Ethan for the next shift. I couldn’t help but go over the information that was just relayed to me. The impact it had on my confidence was nothing short of disparaging. The mission that still lay in front of us seemed to be such a waste of energy now that I couldn’t tell if it was truly worth it. The Decedents would not stop until their food source was gone. Now, it turns out, that we won’t even see them coming? This definitely was not a fight I was ready for.

               With Detroit gone, and Chicago soon to follow, it seemed like such an uphill battle. With one man short as well, my silver lining was slowly disintegrating. I was slowly losing hope!

               As I sat there, wallowing in guilt and depression, I grabbed a smoke from my jacket. As I pulled the last one from the pack, a four letter word crossed across my lips. Finding cigs was easy, it was actually getting to them, which was the hard part. With humans almost nearly gone, and walkers not smoking, gas stations and stores had an overabundance. They also had an overabundance of walkers stashed within so it was a suicide mission. Seemed like a perfect time to quit.

               “Got another one boss?” Shane asked, peeking out from the turret hole.

               “Naw was my last. Here, we can share.” I handed him the butt. “We’ll stop on the way and get some. Listen, I been meaning to talk to you about what happened back there at the bank. What you did was both extremely brave and stupid. You need exercise caution when jumping into a situation. Remember, it just might be your last!” It sounded more like an order than friendly advice.

               In a sarcastic display of military bearing, he snapped to attention and shot off a “yes sir!!!!” What an asshole.

               “So how did you pull off that little magic act back there?” I asked.

               He looked at me with about the scariest look I had ever seen in a human face. With his eyes raised into gigantic circles, he explained, “It was easy. I ran in, dropped some C4 near the entrance, found the doctor, pulled her in the safe and hit the remote detonator. I love the smell of blood and body parts raining down from a blast. There ain’t nothing better!” His face lit up like a child on Christmas day. This worried me. He displayed all the classic signs of a loose cannon, and we all know the end to that story. We couldn’t afford anymore loss.

               He just stared off into space, the gleam in his eye telling me he was enjoying this a little too much. “Hey, you ok man? Shane! SHANE!!!!!” he snapped his eyes back at me. “Listen, go get some rest, I’ll finish watch. We’ll be back on the road at 08:00. See you then.”

               With that evil grin and glare in his eye, he snapped to attention and saluted me with me utmost disrespect. As he slunk off toward the bunks, I now realized I had one more thing to worry about. This mission was becoming increasingly more difficult by the minute. I climbed up into the turret, ready to finish the last post of the night.

               The still in the air was enough to drive a man insane. Every little noise in the cold darkness roused me from every little moment I thought I would pass out. Thankfully, all was quiet. I was not ready for excitement at the moment.

               As the first signs of light popped off the horizon, I glanced at my watch. It was 06:35, January 2^nd. I also realized it was three days before my 40^th birthday. Half of me wished I wouldn’t make it until then, but it seemed that God had other plans. Todd, being the first of the men to wake, walked over to me with tin cup full of piping hot coffee. “So how you fairing?” he asked, aware of the deep bags that had formed under my eyes.

               “I’m so fucking tired, I could sleep for days.” I replied. I felt like shit, and probably looked like it too, but I wasn’t about to let my men down for anything. The other men began to rouse and soon we were all gathered for a morning conference on what our plan was. They all looked gaunt and exhausted; apparently sleep was slipping through everyone’s fingers.

               I cleared my throat as the men all turned toward me. “I want you all to know that I am very proud of you all at this point. Our mission, though an extremely difficult one, has proved to be a worthwhile cause. We leave at 08:00. I want us in New Chicago by 10:00. Ethan, keep trying to pull them up by radio. Maybe we can get a message to them warning them of the impending doom. Ok, you know what we have to do. I’m slipping off to get some rest. Dismissed!” and with that, the men shuffled to their respective jobs. I moved to the bunk area, my head full of exhaustion. I took off my pants and slammed down on the bunk. My thoughts turned to our home. I said a small prayer in hopes that God would keep our home safe in time for us to reach them. The darkness began to spiral in and my lead eyelids began to close as the world faded away.

Chapter Two

    

            Every breath I took made it feel as though my lungs were solidifying in my chest. Between the burning in my chest and the adrenaline coursing through my veins, my body felt like it was on fire! Sweat began to bead on my brow. Slowly, we made our way to the alleyway between the bank and what appeared to be a small hardware store. The six of us lined the wall, eyes at the ready.

               My heart began to race as I slowly peered around the corner. With nothing in view, I raised my hand to motion Todd and Tim forward, as they quietly moved toward the two massive glass doors of the bank, posting themselves on either side like beefeaters, the guards that protect the queen of England.

               Looking through the cracked glass doors, Todd turned back toward me, signaling the all clear. We all moved in closer to the doors, ready for the unexpected.

               I moved up behind Todd, my heart thumping like a conga drum. Wide-eyed with excitement, the men hung on my every command. Todd scanned the lobby one last time and with one swift smack, with the butt of his gun, the glass shattered into tiny pieces onto the lobby floor.

               With my weapon poised and aimed, I crept through the open glass. Looking around I noticed that all that seemed to be present were massive amounts of deposit slips littering the floor and a desk that had been overturned in the corner. Dread began to fill my thoughts.

               “All clear!” I shouted, as the men filed in one by one. Once inside, we began to look around and try to scavenge through the mess all around. Searching for some signs of survivors, we looked all around the lobby, but to no avail. My eyes began to focus on a small, brown object lying near the tellers’ cage. I walked over and to my horror noticed it to be a small child’s blood-stained teddy bear. I stood there frozen, staring at its beady little eyes. A lump formed in my throat, as the image of my son leapt into my mind. All the things in my life I lost from the epidemic began to fade in and out of my subconscious.

               I nearly jumped out of my skin as a hand touched my shoulder. It was Marcus. “You ok?” he asked, “You’re pale as a ghost.”

               ‘I’m fine!” I snapped, dropping the toy and wiping a tear caught in the corner of my eye, “What’s the status?”

               “Lobby is clear. No sign of anything. I have a bad feeling about this. We should load back up and go!” he explained, looking despondent.

               “No, let’s hang out a bit. Something isn’t right!” What was bothering me more than anything wasn’t that we had not found anyone; it was the fact that our presence had not caught the attention of any walkers that may have been in the town. “It’s too quiet.”

               “Maybe they’re off taking a leak.” He joked. Humor was Marcus’ way of diffusing the fear from the situation, yet I could tell he also had the same concern. Nice to know a few words could still bring a little giggle from me.

               Todd kept watch out of the windows, while the others rummaged through desks for anything of use, supplies we might need or the pack of cigarettes left behind. I stood near the tellers’ cage, contemplating our next move, when the smell overcame us!

               “Holy fuck, what the hell is that?” Tim being the youngest of us, and more than likely the weaker stomached of us, noticed it first, covering his nose as he gasped for air. Imagine the smell of rotten meat mixed with the metallic hue of blood. So overpowering, Tim lost it right there, yakking on the floor.

               “Where in the hell is it coming from?” asked Shane.

               I noticed a closed door near the back of the tellers’ cage. “It’s coming from the back, through that door.” It was the only logical place it could be. “All of you keep watch on the doors, I’m gonna check it out.” Slowly I moved through the tiny, swinging door on the tellers’ cage, weapon cocked and ready. I slid up to the closed door. Turning the unlocked handle, I pushed it open with a swift kick, revealing a dark hallway. Wham! The smell hit me like a ton of bricks, nearly knocking my ass to the floor. With one hand covering my mouth and nose and my other one poised with my gun, I reeled back, waiting for something to jump out at me. All seemed clear.

               The hallway was dark, evil dark. I clicked the flashlight on my shoulder on and slowly peered down its dark passageway. The left side had two doors marked with gold plates under their frosted glass windows, one on the right. These had to be offices no doubt, managers and loan officers. Blood trails streaked down both walls and on the floor, leading to the very end. I followed them with my flashlight, the odor finally reaching its apex, to the end of the hall where a gigantic steel door stood, obviously the safe. My mind began to envision all the horrible things producing the smell behind its massive front, evil, ugly things that caused the blood and the smell. With my nerves on every end, anticipating the worst, I walked toward it. Partially ajar, I raised my hand to its blood soaked handle, ever ready with the M16. I pulled, swinging its massiveness with an evil creak. The giant hole reminding me of a huge sewer hole, funny, it smelled like one too! I slowly raised my flashlight, sweeping it from side to side, as I moved deeper into the awful smell. A small, gray puddle came into view on the floor of the safe. This didn’t look good! Following the puddle to the back, a wrinkled, decayed hand came into the light. I raised my light. “Holy fuck!!!!!” I exclaimed. There, lying on the floor in a pool of blood and brain matter congealing together, were at least a dozen dead decedents, heads bashed in, stacked one on top of the other. Gagging, I turned and ran back out of the safe, slamming the door behind me. Panting to catch my breath, I tried to shake the images from my mind, even the dead ones creeped me out.

               This felt wrong. Dead walkers in the safe and not a single survivor, I questioned who did this? Was there someone we were missing? Had they left before it got bad? I definitely knew that our being here was now a waste of time. I decided to gather my men and get us the hell out of Dodge!

               I didn’t feel the initial blow to the back of my head, yet I could feel the pain coursing down my back and neck. My eyes began to water and blur, as the door to the lobby began to fade out. My knees gave way and I hit the floor on all fours. With one last effort of strength, I tried to pull myself up, body weakening with every second that ticked by. As I hit the floor, my body lay limp, the last few images faded from my sight. All I could think about was how I had failed my men. “Choke on them!!!” I mumbled to whatever was about to consume me, as my eyes closed and I feel into sleep.

               “Do you know how lucky you are I didn’t kill you!” a voice said out of the darkness. I opened my eyes noticing everything blurred and out of focus. Did I die back there? Was this heaven? Was that the voice of my guardian angel? All these thoughts danced in my head, as I tried to bring my eyes to focus. I lifted my head, the pain a swirling torrent, banging at the back. I sat up, the burning rising in my chest, reaching my tongue, as the bile burst from my mouth. I vomited so hard, I thought my bowels were coming along too for the ride.

               “Take it slow. You have a concussion. Take deep breaths, in through your nose, out through your mouth.” the voice came again, giving me advice. I must be dead. The voice sounded like my mother and she had been dead for years. Oh God, please let me be dead!

               I followed the sound of the voice, the room slowly coming into focus. A makeshift camp had been set up in what looked like one of the offices here in the bank. The room, much larger than I pictured, was lit by a single gas lantern set up on a chair. Shadows were cast all around giving the room an evil ambiance. Tin cans of fruit and veggies had been stacked neatly next to the chair, along with a small space heater keeping the room nice and warm. I was lying on a bunk roll, laid out over a desk, covered in wool blankets. Standing over me, with a pail she used to catch my heave, was the most angelic creature I had seen in quite some time. There was a sincere beauty to her, one that needed no make-up to enhance. Long blondish-brown hair fell at her sides to the small of her back like a waterfall of fire. Soft green eyes that reflected like emeralds against the lantern light. Lips that pursed into a perfect almond shape, reminding me of supermodels from the days of my youth. She was definitely an angel among the devils left in our world. Her blood-stained white blouse was see-through, due to perspiration, revealing a perfect set of cantaloupe shaped breasts, encased in a lace white bra. Her black pencil skirt and nylons were dirty, tattered and torn, from her obvious fight here in the bank. I could have assumed she had once worked here, when business was still booming, but I knew better than to judge a book.

               I touched the top of my head. Bandaged, I could feel the warm liquid swirling around inside. The pain was still swimming. “What the fuck happened?” I asked. She shot me a look of consternation.

               “Are you serious?” she scolded me, like a child who took a cookie before dinner. “You, Mr. Rambo, just compromised the safety and integrity of my safe house! Zoms can smell fresh meat, and you just led them to us!” The fire in her eyes grew with each word she spoke. She was perfectly beautiful, I couldn’t help but stare. “Are you even listening to me?”

               I snapped back to the conversation, the blood slowly rushing to my head. I could feel the vomit coming on again. I turned toward the bucket, the bile coming out again in waves. She handed me the pail as I lost the last bit of anything in my stomach and grabbed a chair near the heater.

               “Listen, Princess, If it wasn’t for us, you would still be here alone. So, cut me some goddamn slack, will ya?” I retorted. After my puke spell, my throat became dry and barren, a hacking cough forming.

               “Here, drink this. Take it slow or you will puke again!” she ordered, handing me a cup of water. “I know it’s warm, I’ve had to boil all drinking water. It is better to be safe than sorry.” She explained. Her softer, more nurturing side was a lot better than her bitchy side. Slowly I sipped, the refreshment washing away the dry and burn.

               “How long have I been out?” I asked.

               “Thirty, maybe forty minutes. I’m sorry about your head. I thought you were one of the many zoms that have warbled in here. I panicked. You saw my handiwork, so you know what I was up against. Again, I’m sorry!” Her remorse showed that in some deep down place she was actually very glad to see us. She looked at me with empathy, extending her small hand. “I’m Brie, Dr. Brie Larson.”

               “What specialty?” I asked, taking her soft, willowy hand in mine, as they merged perfectly together. Again, reminding me of the entire good still in our world.

               “Epidemiology, It’s the study of epidemics and the viruses which cause them. I calculate the rates and variables that cause the spread and how much time it will take to reach certain populaces. I was working in my office in Atlanta when I got a call on August 10^th of a viral outbreak in Detroit. This being “Ground Zero”, I hopped the first plane out and arrived that afternoon.” She explained, “I needed to see what we were dealing with.”

               “So you’re from the CDC? How did you end up in Ann Arbor alone?”

               The tension began to rise in her eyes. “Well, soldier boy, when the infected dead began to come back to life, the city was evacuated; it was deemed no longer safe to stay in or around it. I was ordered to set up my lab in New Detroit, where everyone was told it was safe to stay. I worked there tirelessly to study the virus and see what measures could be taken to block or even cure the affects of it. Everything was going good; we all felt safe. Morale around camp was very high. Any zoms caught within the perimeter fence were shot and killed immediately, reassuring our feelings of safeness, which is until two days ago.” She stammered. I could feel the fear in her voice as she continued. “I was in my tent working on slide sample analysis, when the screams echoed throughout the camp. Rushing out to see the cause, my heart about leapt out of my chest when I realized that zoms, hundreds of them, had plowed through the perimeter fence, taking it down, and attacking any living thing in their way. We were overrun and overpowered! I ran back in my tent, grabbing what research I had already come up with, and ran, running faster than I ever had in my entire life. I can still hear the screams when I close my eyes!” she looked down at the floor, sorrow consuming her as the last words left her mouth. “I ran until I couldn’t anymore, fighting my way east on 94. I made it here yesterday. The entire town was deserted and moved to New Detroit, so I scavenged what supplies I could from the various open stores here and walled myself up in the only place I saw safe, the bank. With its massive vault I figured I could hide in there if the dead came back into the town. Until then, I figured I hide up in one of the offices until I could regain enough strength to work my way east again.”

               The heat began to rise in my face again, as I realized what she had just revealed to me. “Wait, you mean to tell me that BCND is gone? There is nothing left?” I asked, as the horror washed over me.

               “Yes,” she replied, “I don’t know if anyone survived or if anyone else escaped, but I would take stock in the fact that all base camps will eventually become wastelands.”

               “But that means.........” I began to explain, when the office door burst open nearly giving myself and Dr. Larson a heart attack. Marcus, his face as white as a ghost, looked at me. “Sir, we have company!”

               “How many?” I asked, looking out the windows of the lobby. Walkers had finally decided to make themselves known. Todd turned toward me, eyes as cold as steel. “It looks like thirty, maybe forty, coming up both sides of Main, moving slower than molasses in a jar. ETA looks to be about ten minutes.” He reported. I knew we had to move fast.

               “Dr. Larson, grab your research, nothing else! Marcus, go fire up the monster! We need to blow this popsicle stand now!!!!” and by my order they both went on their separate ways. It was about 100 feet to our transport, so with the speed of Hermes, he ran to her, opened the back hatch and fired her up with a hum that soothed my ears. It was time to make our move.

               The dead began to close in on us, as we moved to the vehicle. Tim, who hung back to protect the front of the bank for Dr. Larson, stood with his back to us, watching for any walker close enough to pop. Being still woozy from my head wound, Ethan helped me walk to the APX. Shane and Todd used suppressive fire on any walker close enough to us. I could see the scene around me as Ethan helped me in, the dead closing in on us in minutes and me feeling so helpless, dread began to seize me.

               With Ethan having joined me on the seat and Todd and Shane still popping round after round off, Marcus jumped into the .50 caliber rifle turret on top of the APX and began hitting dead heads like pimples before the prom. It seemed there were just too many. Time was running out and we were very close to becoming a meal.

               Now I know this is going to sound really cliché, but you know those really dramatic action scenes where everything around the main character slows down to 1/10 of its normal speed? Well that is exactly what my mind’s eye began seeing. Pop…, pop…, pop…, the .50 cal. shot off rounds in slow-mo as each head exploded in dazzling precision. Shane, turning to Tim at the doors, screamed, “Let’s…move…!” and that’s when I saw it.

               It had to be the biggest fucking zombie I had ever seen since the epidemic. This burly, fat and gross fucker comes slinking around the corner of the bank from the alleyway. Tim, who was yelling for Dr. Larson to hurry, was unaware of the impending doom slowly working its way toward him. As I yelled for Tim to look out, he turned on his heels just in time for the big walker to wrap its arms around him and with the strength of an ox, brought him to the ground. What I remembered most, as the scene sped back up to normal, was Tim’s screams as the fat fuck ripped into his tender neck flesh like a thanksgiving drumstick. Blood and skin began to spray all around, coating the entrance of the bank with its fine mist. Each rip and tear at his neck brought his screams to a head as the last gurgle could be heard and his body go limp. Tim was dead!

               As the portly walker kept tearing and ripping into, the guilt washed over me. I had lost another person in my care to these bastards. The other walkers had apparently taken notice of the new feast in front of the bank and turned toward it, leaving Dr. Larson in the path of dire jeopardy. Shane knew this too, and ran out of the vehicle, running toward the entrance of the bank. With a single shot he dispatched the big guy eating Tim and ran into the bank in a blur. Four more ugly ghouls made their way from the alleyway as the others moved in unison toward the entrance. This was it! Tim dead, Shane and Dr. Larson soon to follow, we needed to get out of there now. I ordered the departure. Each man looked at me with the dejection I felt inside.  The entrance became overrun and walkers only feet away from us it seemed only right.

               BOOM!!!!!!!!!! The entire front of the bank blew out. Pieces of zoms and building began crashing in around us. Thump, thump, thump; body parts hitting the ground like it was raining zoms. Sadness hit me as I realized Shane’s sacrifice to save us all. All of us just stared at the smoke cloud coming from the bank. How could this mission turn into such a butt fuck like this? With two of my men gone now, the lovely doctor as well, it seemed only natural to preserve our lives now. We had lost this one.

               Ethan pressed the button to close the hatch, as the smoke began to clear from the wreckage. Silhouetted within the last remnants of the cloud were two figures emerging from the blast. “Stop the door!” I ordered. Looking out, with hope in my mind, I prayed that these weren’t rouge dead protected from the blast. It felt like hours before a voice came out over the air, as Shane, with the doctor in tow, emerged from the smoke to join us. A joyous relief came over me as the two ran into the vehicle, positioning us for departure. With a blast from the smokestack and the doors sealing itself away from the last remaining horrors working their way toward us, Marcus turned us around on Main and pushed us back toward business 94, plowing through the last remaining zoms in our way.

               “Miss me?” she asked, as the good doctor looked on me with gratitude. Slowly, a smile rolled across my lips as we headed for the only natural spot left for us to go, home.

Chapter One

          ……”Daddy, why does God allow bad things to happen, if he is so good?”, asked my son while we were in church. Father O’Laughlin began to preach about God’s everlasting love. I looked down at him, his eyes as wide as the moon. I smiled at him and stroked his cheek.     As I began to give him the best possible answer I could think of, two withered hands covered my mouth. A cold, dark void began to encompass the two of us. As I struggled with the monstrous hands against my mouth, two more of the hideous hands came out of the darkness, grabbing my wrists and pinning my arms at my sides. Struggling even harder now, I looked down at his sweet, innocent face. A lone tear began to roll down his left cheek. As he lifted his disappointed face to look at me, something grabbed him by the ankles, dragging him into the dark, cold abyss.

          “DADDY!!!!!!”, he screamed.

          I struggled against my bindings as he disappeared into the darkness surrounding me. My eyes raised in horror as a child’s scream echoed through the black……

    
……Screaming, I awoke inside the APX, sweat dripping off my brow. This all too realistic vision has plagued my sleep for the last five months. This is why sleep has become a stranger to me. I looked around, assessed my surroundings and noticed that my scream had not roused the men from their spots, casually keeping watch out the windows. Guess screams aren’t in short supply anymore.

We were trekking our way through Indiana. Unfortunately, we had not encountered a single sign of life out on the road since we left base camp. Out in these parts it seemed like there wasn’t much life for some time, fields overgrown and unattended, cars scattered across the highway. This was definitely a gloomy scene.

I pulled a cigarette out of my jacket, lit it and took a long, hard drag.

“Got another?”, said a voice off my right. It’s funny, up till now, I really had not conversed with any of my men since leaving base camp, yet I would trust them with my life! His name was Tim. He was mid 20’s, tall, good build. He took the cig from me, tapped it on his knee and lit it with much of the same finesse as James Dean did in “Rebel without a Cause”. “You know I never smoked or drank until all this shit started. Funny, world goes to hell and we still try to kill ourselves. That’s true irony!”, he stated as he stared at the butt between his fingers, “Where were you from?”

I looked at him. “I came from small town outside of Baltimore, Severn, MD. My family and I moved there when I got a job working for the Department of Defense in D.C. I’m originally from Virginia. And you?”, I asked.

He took the last drag from the smoke and died it out on the heel of his boot. He looked down at the floor with eyes like a timid child. Times like these always seemed to break even the strongest soul, down, make them weak. He just sat there looking at the floor for a minute. I knew that look all too well: Fear, Distress and Desperation. He took a deep breath, and began to speak in a voice so soft I almost couldn’t hear him. “I grew up on the south side of Chicago, a small suburb named Cicero. When I graduated high school, I went right into the police force. My father and grandfather were both cops. I was doing my patrol when the first of these maniacs hit the city. It was utter chaos! People being attacked and eaten right there in the streets! I tried to get as many survivors as I could out of the city and into the base camp, yet I still feel like I could have done so much more!”, he explained as he began to choke up. Besides Marcus and Todd, I was the oldest in our group. It’s so hard to believe that someone so young could have been that brave in this time of crisis.

Marcus was the only African American in our group. He was my first lieutenant and second in command. Todd was the second lieutenant. Tim, Ethan and Shane were all enlisted men, privates that had only been in service since the draft. We all had a job on this mission besides finding survivors, much like how the military was when the world was whole. Marcus was our engineer and control specialist. His job was make to make sure our weapons and vehicle were working properly. Todd was our sharpshooter. It was rumored around BCNC that he had a shot record of over 2,000 decedents in his stay at base. He was also the only when of active duty status when they came. Ethan was our technical whiz. He was in charge of our radio broadcasts and anything to do with the tech aspect of our job. Shane was demolitions. He made the boom-booms when things got hairy. Tim was our navigator. He was in charge of making sure our maps were updated and our route was the quickest way to point A. With me in charge, we seemed like a pretty good team.

Tim, having sat there silent for a minute, looked up at me with tears in his eyes. “When do you think this will all be over?”, he asked me, voice faltering with fear. I looked him dead in the eyes. My fear and tension also brewing and gave him the only answer I could find, “When God sees fit!”

Another hour had passed as we finally made our way through the fields of Michigan. All of us were tired and hungry by now, only sensible thing to do was stop for awhile, besides I could use a stretch. I opened the door, stepped out and that’s when I saw them: the first sign of any life out on the road, unfortunately, they weren’t alive! I called to the other men who came as quickly as they could. We assessed the scene. Amid the broken down vehicles along the highway stood ten to twelve of them, just standing there, not moving. They looked more like statues than the walking dead!

“What are they doing? Are they alive?”’ asked Shane.

“Can’t tell,”, replied Ethan, “maybe they sleep standing up?”

For a moment we just stared at them. The blank, motionless faces; the grey, decayed skin. “They don’t sleep!”, I interjected, and for one brief moment I felt sorry for them. They didn’t ask to be this way! They didn’t ask for the loss of free will, to roam the earth with one thought process: to consume the flesh of the living!

“They’re frozen.”, noticed Todd. He reminded me a lot of myself in Desert Storm: cold, unnerving and perceptive.

“Yes, I noticed that too.”, I said, “Let’s keep moving!”

As we all climbed aboard the vehicle, I couldn’t help think about the advantage we had over them with the cold. Something told me this might be a small, silver lining. As the engine roared to life, I sat down and a small smile came across my face.

We moved forward, full speed toward the frozen bodies standing in the road. We a loud thump, thump, thump we plowed through cars and corpses. With each body shattering and the crunching under our wheels, I could feel my stomach turn. To me, this seemed so inhumane!, Inhumane? Was it not inhumane to see those animals break into the church my family and I were attending, and attack all those innocent people, including my wife and son, when the world fell out? I closed my eyes as the last of them fell beneath our wheels, drifting off to the hum of the engine and cheer of my comrades. Oh what a cruel, cruel world!

……”Daddy, why is God so mad?”, my son’s voice wafted up through the upper balconies of the church I was in again, “Why is he so angry?” I looked around to find the church completely empty, except for the few coats, hats and purses that littered the pews. Seemed like everyone left in a hurry! “Hello????????”, I called out. No answer! Other than the belongings, everyone was gone! I ran to the back of the church. The echoes of the wind wisped through the open space. A lump began to form in the back of my throat. I tried the door, I wanted out! Damn! Locked! As I struggled, pulling on the door, yanking and yanking with all my might, my son’s soft voice called at me from behind. “Daddy?”, he softly whispered. I turned to look at him, as a tear ran down my cheek. There he was, only it wasn’t him exactly. I mean it was him, just different! His skin was pale and gray, in some spots horribly decayed. His hair was matted with dry, brown blood from the wound on his head. His eyes, oh his eyes, were extremely bloodshot and evil looking, almost as gray as his skin. He just stared at me with those eyes! As I looked down at him, I could feel the lump in my throat rising. Tears began to well up in the corners of my eyes. He raised his tiny hand and pointed it directly at me. “It’s your fault, Daddy! It’s your fault God is mad!!!!!!!!”, he screamed at me. The tears began to fall in buckets from my eyes as I stared at him. I dropped to my knees, head in hands, and shook my head with such force I thought I was going to snap my neck! “No!”, I sobbed into my hands, “I did everything I could! I…did…everything…I…could!!!!!” My head began to feel heavy. Anger began to build from somewhere deep inside the pit of my stomach. My teeth began to grind. With one last ounce of strength, I shot my head up toward the ceiling, teeth barred, and shouted with every breath I had left, “NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO……

……OOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!” I was still screaming as Tim shook me awake. “We’re almost there.”, he explained, “You ok?”

“Yeah, fine keep your eyes peeled!”, I ordered. I looked at my watch, 13:25, wow I couldn’t believe I slept, even if it was plagued once again. I stood up, stretched, and peered out the windows at a small town that reminded me of back home. It was Ann Arbor, or what was left of it anyway. What used to be a vibrant college town, was now reduced to nothing. Broken down cars, litter all over and broken store fronts from looters taking what they needed to survive was all that was left up business 94 into the heart of town.

We made a left on Main Street to see if anything was up near the college hospital, maybe, survivors had made it to there and sheltered themselves. I kept hoping for a sign of people we weren’t seeing, survivors with hope of rescue. My heart began to race and a cold shiver washed over me as the eerie new ghost town moved past my window.

“Marcus stop!”, I ordered. As we came to halt, he jumped out of the driver’s seat to join us at the window. “What is it?”, he asked, looking at me like with disdain. “Look, there!”, I pointed to our right. What looked like dried blood or mud were written the words “ALIVE INSIDE” across the front of a giant white building there on Main. It was the first national bank. “What do you think, sir?”, Tim asked. “I’m not positive, but I’m willing to bet my left nut that there is at least one person in there!”, I replied.

“How can you be sure?”

“I’ve seen it before! Found the same scene back in Old Chicago. Giant sign scrawled across the front of Union Station. I worked my way inside, fighting off those things and following the signs down into the massive train tunnels. There, alone on a split track, was a solitary passenger car with the final sign on it, “ALIVE INSIDE”. I broke in, scanned the area for life and found nothing but death! It was nothing but dead people strewn about the seats.  As I was about to leave, I heard the slow and raspy breaths of something in the back. Moving slowly to the back, I came across a small boy, not more than 10, peering over the seats, staring in shock……”, I faltered as the words left my mouth.

“What if you’re wrong, sir, no offence, what if they’re in there?”, interjected Todd, “What if your leading us into hell?”

“Then we go in guns blazing! I just know there is someone in there, and I can’t just leave them behind! Suit up! Let’s move out!”, I ordered. And with that, my warriors were ready for anything. Protection for us was a must! Not knowing how or why the disease spread, we had to remain ever vigilant. We knew bites caused people to change, but was it airborne? Was it in the water, the walls, and the ground? Until we knew what we were dealing with or how it spread, we remained ready! We gathered up outside the APX. I ordered the men to form up, two by three, Marcus and I leading the charge toward the front of the bank. We scanned the area, side by side. All seemed clear! I looked at the men, the fear and adrenaline on their faces said it all. With one raise of my hand, M16’s grasped firmly, we moved toward our goal in side step formation.

PROLOGUE

     "When there is no more room in Hell, the dead shall walk the Earth!"
       -George Romero, Dawn of the Dead (1978)




     No one knows exactly when the first attacks happened. The media began reporting outbreaks of "civil unrest" in the spring of 2010, when a "terrorist" group attacked a city bus in Paris. The attackers dismembered, disemboweled and ate the victims on the bus. The French police dispatched the attackers and the French government issued a statement calling the attack an isolated incident, case closed!
     By June, Europe, Asia and Africa had already begun to document cases of people being mauled and eaten. Their governments always saying these to be isolated and coincidental. Media reports began popping up causing mass hysteria. Religious groups crowded the streets quoting the book of Revelation and proclaiming these the "End of Days!". Myself, I waited for the other shoe to fall!
     By August, over half of North America had fallen victim to one or more "Gore Attacks", as our media had come to call them. Amateur footage had begun to surface all over the internet of people being massacred in their homes, their cars and on public streets. Panic ensued!
     People began to leave their lives behind to find safer accomodations, places where they could be safe and take on whatever enemy was in their way.
     The American government had set-up base camps in every major city across the U.S., huge military reinforced facilities where the tired and scared could find food, shelter and the little glimmer of hope that we all seemed to have lost!
     With the highest terrorist level having been issued, the entire U.S. was placed under Marshall Law. A nationwide curfew ordinance of 7 p.m. had been placed on all base camps, to ensure the safety of all those within the confines of the camp. Those found outside the walls after curfew were either shot or left outside to fend for themselves. Most didn't leave the camps so this worked out alright.
     The intenet, still being our only line of communication with the other camps, allowed us to send e-mails and video messages to family and friends at other camps across the country. Unfortunately, more and more attack videos surfaced. The most disturbing was that of a Chilean boy reviving after having been attacked and having his throat ripped out. To make matters worse, after reviving, he had become the very thing we had feared the most! He got up and begun to attack living people! The government called this a hoax! We knew better. The dead rising? Seemed more like a bad horror movie than our harsh reality!
     We still didn't understand how or why this was happening. With specualtions circling around camps and the military without answers, we realized we were up against something we knew absolutely nothing about! How do you kill something already dead?
     This changed everything! All able-bodied men and women were drafted into military service. We were given a weapon and trained in marksmanship as well as hand-to-hand combat. Videos had shown us that head shots seemed to work on the attackers. "Preparedness" is what they preached, yet I don't think any amount of training could have prepared anyone for what lied ahead!


     It was min-October when I had reached BC New Chicago. I had been wandering aimlessly for days, eating what little scraps i could find along the way and fighting off the horrors that now seemed to plague our world, piece by piece.
     It was here that I had found comfort, taking the very essence of my aggression away from me. Oh! I still wanted revenge! I wanted my chance to rip into those motherfuckers that took everything from me, I just learned when and when not to use it.
     Having prior military service in both Desert Storm and Afghanistan, it was only natural that i be reinstated into service, Capt. Daniel Staley, USAF. I was debriefed on the enemy and was told that most major cities were nothing but shells infested with the "DECEDENTS", the military's term for the attackers. From what I had seen, their assessment was dead on!
     On Christmas morning, word had gotten to BCNC that survivors were spotted in and around cities, people left behind or thought for dead. Someone's father or mother or son or daughter, I could not allow myself to let others know my pain. I had to step-up!
     I gathered up a five man team, five men with nothing in their hearts but retribution and nothing left to lose but their souls, and created the DDRS (Decedent Disposal and Rescue Squad). Our first task was to rescue survivors trapped in cities and procur them safely to near-by base camps. Our second task was to sweep areas of the dead and find supplies and weapons we would be running low on.
     We gathered up what supplies and weapons we would need , loaded it all on a armored troop transport (APX) and prepared for our long and perilous exodus. As we all jumped aboard, I took one last look toward the sky, made the sign of the cross and prayed that HE would watch over our mission. It seemed like these days there wasn't much God out there anymore, hard to believe HE even existed in times like these, but i knew better!
     With nothin but our hopes and M16's with us, we set out on New Years' Day! Destination: Old Detroit..........