by Ward III, C.
Erica covered her mouth, trying not to cry. Murmurs and questions erupted. Any hope of European aid that was had was now absent. They truly were on their own, except for the general sitting before them.
“So, General, what’s your role in all of this?” Victor asked, still wondering why he and his clean-clothed associates had landed in the small town of Lake City.
“Before July fourth, I was with Northern Command. Now, I’m the commanding officer of Special Operations Command and the entire US Atlantic Fleet. My primary mission is much like yours, Victor,” the general said, looking at the many awestruck faces, who wondered how he knew Victor’s name. “We’re sending out SEAL and MarSOC teams to recover key figures to help with reconstruction.”
Victor nodded, imagining the missions they must be conducting in densely infected cities. Probably for high-level politicians and heads of federal departments—those were typically the first to be saved.
Sheriff Bohner had the same judgments as Victor. He leaned in to look down the table. “Are you under orders of the president? Is the federal government still intact?”
General Lyons took a deep breath, then paused, arranging his thoughts. “There has been no contact from the presidential bunker or from Camp David. If he’s still alive, I don’t know where he is. It has been confirmed that Vice President Bentley died in a helicopter crash while being extracted from a campaign rally in Baton Rouge on July fourth.
There are several lower-level cabinet members who are fighting each other for control in DC. Not just political bickering but real, tactical skirmishes in a minifractional war taking place in the national mall.” The general leaned back slightly. “To be honest, I wouldn’t take orders from any of them at the moment. We have bigger concerns and don’t have time for politics.”
“Like the Russians and Chinese invaders on the West Coast? What’s your game plan for that situation, General?” Raymond asked, angry that a high-ranking commanding officer was allowing such a thing to happen.
“My primary mission is stabilization and reconstruction, starting here on the East Coast. Although we have limited communication with the still-intact Pacific fleet, which is currently engaged in a guerilla war with BRICS, they are sinking troop transports disguised as freighter ships coming from Russian and China. They have destroyed a battleship, a refueling ship, and one midget submarine known to be carrying a special operations team. They are making life extraordinarily difficult for our enemy, but the Pacific fleet is running low on munitions. Nukes are an option being discussed, but we don’t want America to be permanently radiated if we escalate to full-ballistic warfare.
A Delta team, along with a company of infantry marines extracted out of Afghanistan, is presently deployed behind enemy lines, near Seattle, Washington, and San Clemente, California, conducting harassment and sabotage missions to supply chains.” The general smiled at Raymond.
“Hell, yeah!” Raymond shouted. “That’s what I’m talking about!”
“It’s an extremely high-risk mission. Not only are the teams fighting unconventionally against a conventional army but they’re also being betrayed by collaborators in exchange for special favors, all on top of fighting Hemocytes at the same time,” the general stated, noticing a table full of confused faces.
“Hemocytes?” Kevin asked. “Do you mean the Grays?”
“Grays, yes, that is a good name for the infected,” General Lyons confirmed.
“Are they related, General?” Erica asked softly. “The timing was very suspicious. Did they release this plague as part of their world-domination chess game?”
“No. We don’t think so.” He shook his head, then looked at the spook to his right. “They were very careless about it, if they did. The same as any military technology; we wouldn’t deploy a weapon until we can counter it first. Following the same protocols for biological warfare, an attacker would have first made safeguarding precautions, like a vaccine or an antidote. The pathogen has spread worldwide, now unconstrained inside Russia and China as well. It won’t be long until they have also succumbed to its ravenous nature.”
“General Lyons, thank you for sharing this intel that we desperately needed to hear. As you know, fresh and accurate information can be lifesaving and can also build morale. But now for the million-dollar question.” Victor raised his eyebrows. “Why are you here?”
“As I have stated, my mission is stabilization and reconstruction. Recruiting the right people for the job is crucial. We have been monitoring your progress since you first transmitted. Using the power of the Atlantic fleet, we want to use your town as a model, but bigger. Much, much bigger.”
“Was that your drone overhead?” Victor pointed up.
“It was. Along with my advance party.” The general paused to motion toward Stacy and Pete. “I wanted to confirm your broadcast claims before spending precious fuel to get here.
“Recruiting. That is why I am here. I would like your mayor to be our liaison. I have a nuclear-powered aircraft carrier plugged into Kent Island at the northern part of the Chesapeake Bay. It’s a great location to hide the ship, and the island, which is mostly farmland, is now isolated after we destroyed one of the two connecting bridges. We have resources, but we need organizers like your mayor to help put it all together.”
“Wow. I am truly honored, sir,” the mayor said with flushed cheeks. “But this town needs me here.”
“If you agree, it would only be temporary. Just long enough for you to brief our civil engineers. With you, we would like to recruit Victor and his team,” the general said firmly. “We have very talented special operators in our fleet who’ve done covert operations all over the world. The kind of missions that shape foreign policy but will never be told in history books. They are the best, but they don’t have your experience with the Hemocytes. The Grays.”
Erica squeezed Victor’s hand hard. Helping people in need was a value deeply embedded in him. Having the resources of an entire naval fleet, there was no limit to how many refugees could be rescued from the darkness covering the globe. He would help anyone in need, and they could really help turn this apocalypse around. Three to five percent survival rate is what they had predicted after the first year. Stanly had been right about one thing: this could easily be an extinction-level event. An irresistible sense of duty pulled at him. He needed to help the general. He should go. He had to go.
He turned to look at Erica, who had red, puffy eyes and a single tear rolling down her cheek. He remembered the heartache when her whereabouts were unknown. Unknown if she was even alive or dead, when she’d fought through actual hell to find him. How could he possibly leave her now? And his children. Would he dare take them across country to an unfamiliar area? He couldn’t go without them; he couldn’t separate from them, not in these dangerous times. Looking past Erica, he could see Main Street packed with the townsfolk who came to see who the helicopters had brought. Many of the people in the crowd Victor recognized as people who had called on the radio for his assistance.
General Lyons read the hesitation in Victor’s face. “You must understand the gravity of our situation. We’re not only talking about the fall of America as all we know it but also as an entire species.”
“I do, General. Yet I cannot separate from my family and the people of this community,” Victor proclaimed. “You said it yourself: that stabilization and reconstruction is crucial for America’s survival, but it’s crucial right here in northern Michigan as well. Many people depend on us, and many more need our help. I’m sorry, sir, but I have to sit this one out.”
General Lyons’s face melted with sadness and disappointment. Evidence of a considerable amount of planning and preparation to achieve hopes and dreams came crashing down. With his defeated palms placed on the table, he was about to stand and plead his case more firmly when a well-dressed civilian woman, who was part of the entourage, stepped up next to the general.
“That’s fine. You all can stay here and maybe survive the winter,�
� she said harshly. “We really only traveled here for her, anyway.” The woman admitted, pointing a long finger directly at Erica.
The end, for now
EPILOGUE
The birth of a new era
A cold wind blew across the lake, lifting dried dead leaves off the grass. The chill of winter was in the air, along with the smell of wood-burning fireplaces. But it wasn’t the chill that raised the goose bumps on Erica’s arms.
A second civilian stepped up next to the audacious female who was pointing a long, demanding finger at Erica. “That’s not entirely true. But, yes, we are also here for you, Erica. My name is Dr. Russell Barnaby, and this is my colleague, Dr. Diane Blackburne. We are associated with GENUTEK.”
“Oh!” Erica said, shocked, stirring a flood of emotions and memories. She had seen neither of these two at her Detroit lab over the years, which added to the mystery of who she had truly worked for. It seemed like an eternity has passed since her escape from Detroit. So much had happened. So many people had been lost. She leaned in closer. “Associated with…”
“You may or may not have known, but GENUTEK was part of a vast research network. General Lyons has viral research at the top of his priority list. He’s already rescued dozens of specialists from the Virginia area, a few from New York, and even one of your coworkers from Detroit.”
That revelation surprised Victor. Safeguarding politicians and policy makers would have been priority, typically. The general had said he had bigger concerns than politics at the moment; Victor had assumed he only needed help on community planning. He also leaned in closer to hear what they had to say.
Dr. Diane Blackburne took over the conversation, exasperated with their lack of cooperation. “Look, General Lyons didn’t parked the fleet in the Chesapeake bay by accident. Yeah, he has a good sanctuary location for civilians, and there’s the symbolism of reconstructing America where our nation began hundreds of years ago. That’s all fine too. But the real reason is that we’re practically next door to USAMRIID.”
“USAMRIID. What is that?” Victor asked.
Erica, still holding his hand tightly, answered, “The United States Army Medical Research Institute of Infectious Diseases, which is collocated with the National Institute of Allergy and Infectious Diseases.”
“It’s a level-four biosafety-biocontainment lab,” Dr. Russell Barnaby added. “Which has already been secure, by the General.”
“The best bio research lab in the world,” Dr. Diane Blackburne concluded, looking at everyone at the table.
“It’s operational?” Erica enquired with an eyebrow raised.
“Yes, with live specimens. But right now, we don’t know if we should be wasting time with the first-gens,” Dr. Diane Blackburne said, flustered.
“Wait,” said Mrs. Cloud. “What do you mean by ‘first-gens’?”
Dr. Diane Blackburne looked at Dr. Russell Barnaby. “The plague started in the south; it would make sense why they haven’t been exposed to the second generation yet,” she theorized with her partner.
“Second generation? You mean a mutation of the original strain?” Erica asked, demanding an answer.
“Hemocytes’ offspring,” both scientists said in unison. “They’re breeding,” Dr. Russell Barnaby concluded, dropping the biggest information bomb of the evening.
“The mysterious absence of females,” Mrs. Cloud said out loud, finally understanding why they had only been seeing males locally.
Erica leaned back, putting her hands on her head as if she needed help breathing.
“If you think your Grays are bad, wait till you meet their vicious little offspring,” the general added. “First-gens only want to spread the disease, never wanting to kill a perfectly good host. The second generation is a completely different story; they want to exterminate every clean human, and even Grays.”
“They’re killing their own?” Kevin asked.
“Yes, to make them the dominant species.” Dr. Diane Blackburne answered. “But sometimes for food. When a second-gen is born, it kills its mother in the process, then consumes her until it rapidly grows and develops enough to join a pack.”
“Oh, shit!” Raymond blurted out, looking at Victor and coming to the realization of what the horror scene in the neighbor’s basement had been. The ripped-open abdomens and half-eaten Grays, it all made sense now.
“Yeah, we can confirm this to be true,” Victor said. “We came across evidence of a den of mutilated deceased females this morning. Right after watching a platoon of soldiers get ripped apart by a swarm of little critters, we thought to be a feral dog pack.”
Erica snuggled in close to Victor, trapping their heat under the thick heavy blankets, pinning her permanently frigid toes against Victor and triggering a violent shiver to run up the length of his body, which caused her to giggle.
“What do you think?” she whispered, scootching in closer and wrapping an arm around his. “Want to go for a helicopter ride?”
“I still don’t know. A lot has changed today. It’s a lot of information to take in, analyze, and make an intelligent decision that’ll affect a lot of people with, even outside this house.” He exhaled heavily.
“They’re flying south in the morning. We need to give them an answer by then.”
“If we stay here or go with them, we do it together. You, me, Curtis, Michael, and Zavier—together. No exceptions,” Victor answered, kissing her gently on her cheek.
AFTER PARTY
A word from the author, the complete zombie pop culture Easter egg hunt, full inspirational acknowledgments and Z Fighter sample pistol, carbine and precision rifle training drills.
Please take time to rate and review ZNIPER!
From the Author
I’ve always been a huge fan of zombie and doomsday dystopia genres. Every time I hear an emergency broadcast system test, I am deeply disappointed when they do not announce the Zombie Apocalypse. Another day of work, paying bills, and general grown-up responsibilities. I’m sure you can relate.
While deployed overseas, I get a lot of downtime, which is generally filled with older and newer Z pop culture–type movies and TV shows. Most of the time, I’m searching for a new book series that I have yet to read. One day, after not finding anything new from my favorite authors, the dumb idea popped in my mind to draft an outline for a story that I would like to read. So it began.
Authors who give comprehensive details how their creatures came to be really grab my attention, pulling me into the reality they have created, making me think, Yeah, that could happen… I figured using a fictitious hybrid of factual real-world diseases would have the same effect. Feel free to googleweb each of the components of my Nasty. It will make your skin crawl.
Typically, I enjoy authors who use ordinary characters describing how they overcome extraordinary circumstances. I do enjoy military-ish heroes if the authors know what the hell they are talking about. Nothing ruins a great story more than Delta operator calling magazines a clip or an M4 unrealistically popping moving zombie heads at 500 yards. Ugh…
Which brings me to my career. My goal was to not only have a decent storyline but to also be somewhat informational at a basic level. I hope that I was able to inject just enough of the technical knowledge I’ve learned over the years for the average person to get a few nuggets of warfighting wisdom and for the tacticians to say, “Hell yeah!”
Lastly, The Hunt. Here, you’ll see full acknowledgment for all the movies, TV shows, and book references that inspired this story. As I said, I am huge fan of this genre, and I know that you are too. Adding in references to this story was in no way intended to plagiarize the genius creativity of others; the references are solely intended to add an extra layer of entertainment and appreciation of the entire Z culture.
Thank you for being a part of my adventure. Someday the story of Victor will continue. Until then, please feel free to follow my other escapades at:
www.MarksmanshipTrainingCenter.com
www
.GunfighterSeries.com
Z Fighter Drill Book
Fundamental Pistol Drill Book
Advanced Pistol Drill Book
Fundamental Carbine Drill Book
Advanced Carbine Drill Book
Precision Rifle Drill Book
THE HUNT
ZNIPER Easter Egg Hunt
Pop cultural and historical references hidden in the story:
Anesidora (aka Anny): Pandora’s other name, meaning “she who sends up gifts.”
Pandora: The first woman, bestowed upon humankind as a punishment for Prometheus’s theft of fire.
Pandora’s Pithos: In Greek mythology, Pandora opened a jar (pithos), releasing all the evils of humanity, leaving only Hope inside. Often mistakenly referred as Pandora’s Box.
Ploutonion: The Ploutonion at Hierapolis is also known as Pluto’s Gate or Hell’s Gate, where a temple was built on top of a cave that emits toxic gases.
Prelude KICK OFF Zombieland (film, 2009)—Three Sisters Bridal & Occasion and The Other Side of the Moon stores were featured behind the minivan Tallahassee smashed to release stress.
Dawn of the Dead (film, 2004)—“Propane tanks with road flares” were used to create IEDs detonated by gunshots.
Chapter PANDORA Dawn of the Dead (film, 2004)—News reports of civil unrest at the “Milwaukee Riverwalk” at the beginning of the movie.
Deadheads (film, 2011)—“GENUTEK” was the biotech corporation responsible for a zombie outbreak.
Chapter PANDORA’S PITHOS Fear the Walking Dead (TV Series, S5:E1)—Anny’s access code “3-8-6-9” is the gate combination to the denim factory where survivors took shelter.