Zombie Rules (Book 7): The Fifteens

by Achord, David

  “And then we’ll head back?” he asked.

  “Nope. If they’ve determined where they came from, I’m going to head that way and see what I can find out,” I said. Now, Bob stared at me in both concern and puzzlement.

  “That wasn’t on the original mission plan,” he said.

  “No, it wasn’t,” I replied. “But don’t worry. You can stay at Detrick. I should only be gone a day, two at the most.”

  “No, that’s okay, I’ll go with you,” he said.

  I cast a sidelong glance at him. “It could be dicey. You might get yourself in a situation where you’ll need to run for your life, and you’re not a young man anymore.”

  Bob scoffed. “I still jog a little, but you don’t have to worry. I don’t plan on leaving the safety of this truck. Besides, you may get yourself into a situation where you’ll need some backup.”

  I thought about his rationale for a moment. “I suppose you make a good point,” I conceded.

  The road to Fort Detrick was probably the best-maintained road in the nation these days. Any pothole that developed over the winter was quickly repaired. True, it could stand to be totally repaved, but we were limited in what we could work with. We made good time and arrived in forty-five minutes. We did not see any zeds during the ride. I don’t know if that was a good sign or a bad sign. I said as much to Bob. He asked me to explain.

  “They could be dead, or they could be making an active effort to avoid detection.”

  He frowned. “Do you think so?”

  “They’re evolving. I know that’s not the proper word to use, but they are definitely regaining the ability to think.”

  Bob nodded in agreement. “They need to be eliminated, that’s for certain.”

  I nodded but did not comment any further. The female zed, Patient Eve, had the doctors and a few others wondering if zeds could learn to coexist with humans. Personally, I doubted it.

  Captain Justin Smithson was waiting for us when we arrived at the main gate. Stretch was standing beside him.

  “Good morning, men,” he greeted. “How was the ride?”

  “Not a zed in sight,” Bob replied. “Your people must have killed them all.”

  Justin scoffed. “Doubtful.” He motioned around. “Most of them seemed to have come from the east.”

  “How many?” Bob asked.

  “The final tally was two hundred and eleven,” Stretch said. “There were more, but some of them ran off.”

  “Did all of them come from the east?” I asked.

  She nodded. “It appears that way, but they were running around everywhere, so it’s hard to say.”

  “Where are they?” Bob asked. “The bodies, where are they?”

  “You didn’t think we were going to leave a bunch of zeds lying around, stinking up the place, did you?” Justin asked with a smirk.

  “Uh, no, I suppose not,” Bob said. “I guess you’ve already hauled them off and burned them.”

  “Yes, we have,” Justin said. “But I already know what the two of you are thinking. We searched each one, collected any personal effects we found, and took plenty of pictures. Oh, and the docs got their blood, which made them very happy.” He hooked a thumb behind him, and we followed him to a room that served as Justin’s office. The walls were full of hand-drawn maps that appeared to have been done by an artistic cartographer.

  “Who did these?” I asked, pointing to them. Justin gave a small smile and nodded toward Stretch. Bob and I both raised our eyebrows.

  “Impressive,” Bob said.

  “That soldier is a gold mine, and if you think you’re going to take her away from me, we’re going to fight.”

  Stretch gave a sly smile and stuck her little finger to the corner of her mouth, causing Bob to laugh. I too liked the drawings and instantly thought of at least five projects in which I could use her artistic skills. I said as much. Justin and Stretch trade a conspiratorial wink.

  “We might be able to work out a trade,” Justin said.

  I glanced at Bob. “This is one of those oh shit here it comes moments.”

  “It’s not that much,” Justin said. “We’ve been talking about having a little Fort Detrick shindig, but there never seems to be enough time. We need some personnel to help out with some duties and perhaps a few dozen steaks for a cookout.”

  I thought about it and glanced again at Bob. “We may be able to work something out.”

  “Yeah, absolutely,” Bob added. “If there is any way for you to scan these drawings, they’d help out tremendously. We can use them during staff meetings.”

  “Alright, let’s go see the doctors and their two patients,” I said.

  Justin grunted and stood. “They’ve been expecting you two. I won’t say they’re looking forward to it, but they’re waiting.”

  Chapter 30 – Escaping the Hotel

  Little Joe activated his headlamp and looked around. He doubted there were any zeds up there, but a family of hungry raccoons was not beyond reason. He encountered nothing but a face full of cobwebs.

  He turned in a full circle, assessing the situation. It was already getting hot and the air was stale. There were no firewalls, which was going to allow him access to the entire length of the hotel. Due to his height, six feet and a couple of inches, he was going to have to walk stooped over to keep from hitting his head, but that was okay. He’d make do.

  “How does it look?” his father asked in a loud whisper.

  Little Joe crouched down through the hatch and saw the two men looking up at him expectantly.

  “No firewalls, so I’ve got a clear shot all the way to the end. I think I can get something going in about ten minutes,” he said.

  “Alright,” his father replied and gave him a reassuring wink.

  “Only shoot if you have to,” Joker cautioned.

  Little Joe gave them both a nod and straightened, promptly hitting his head on a rafter. He kept himself from yelping and ran his hand through his hair. Satisfied he didn’t draw blood, he began walking, carefully watching every footstep. If he missed a ceiling joist, the ceiling drywall would not hold his weight. The result would be disastrous. He could see himself falling through and breaking a leg or something.

  The joists emitted an occasional creak when he stepped on them. In his mind, they were as loud as a gunshot, but it couldn’t be helped. Once he reached the far end, he found another access hatch and gently lifted it out of the way. It was dark, indicating the bathroom door was closed. His light played around and saw decomposed human remains lying in the bathtub. Determining it wasn’t a zed, he lowered his pack until his arm was fully extended and then dropped it.

  The pack hit the floor with a dull thud. Even so, it seemed unusually loud in the quiet room, so he waited, expecting the door to fly open and hungry zeds charge in. After a full minute, he dropped down to the floor and then cautiously cracked open the door. The room was a clone of the others. The only difference was the bed and furniture had been pushed up against the wall where the door and lone window was.

  Little Joe stared at the corpse. The rotting clothes indicated it was once a man, and the other visible clues, like the two empty pill bottles sitting on the edge of the tub, indicated a case of suicide. Little Joe searched under the corpse for a weapon or anything else of value but found nothing.

  Focusing back on the task at hand, Little Joe walked back to the bedroom, moved the mattress a couple of inches to the side, and peeked out of the window. There were still several zeds in the parking lot; he guessed there must have been about fifty. Some of them were kind of ambling around, but most of them were crowded around their car.

  He absently scratched his chin, trying hard to come up with an idea. Looking to the right, he saw an opening. The north side of the parking lot only had three or four zeds milling about. He knew from yesterday’s recon of the hotel there was a set of stairs on the north side.

  Little Joe came to a decision. He was going to use himself as bait. His plan was to
run down the stairs and out into the parking lot, yelling the entire way. Maybe he’d stop and shoot one or two zeds. The noise would track them. He’d then run around the Cracker Barrel restaurant and toward the interstate. By then, Joker and his father would be back in the SUV and would come pick him up.

  He was confident he could outrun any zed. Back when he was on the high school baseball team, he had the record for stolen bases.

  He checked his weapons—a Sig Sauer Model P250 and an AR-15 that was chambered in 9 mm—took a small drink of water, and then got himself psyched up with some deep breaths before pulling the furniture away from the door and opening it.

  He eased out the door and headed toward the stairs. He encountered the first zed as he descended the stairs. The zed, a younger female, was working her way up. When Little Joe saw her look up at him, he could have sworn there was an expression of surprise on her scarred and deformed face.

  He didn’t hesitate and lunged forward with a kick, hitting her squarely in the face with the heel of his size eleven shoe. The impact of the blow caused her head to snap back and her feet fly up in the air. When she landed, Little Joe jumped on top of her, landing both feet on her head. He felt her skull cave in and smiled in satisfaction but had no time to stop and inspect his handiwork.

  Stopping at the bottom floor, he took cover and steadied his breathing while scanning for any other zeds that were possibly close by. Seeing none, he peered around the corner of the building and out into the parking lot.

  There were several zeds approximately fifty feet from him. A couple of them appeared to still be in decent shape and could probably run after him. He took aim at the nearest one and fired. A nice hole suddenly appeared in the side of the zed’s head. The others ignored their buddy as he fell to the ground and turned toward Little Joe.

  Little Joe shot another one before taking off in a full sprint. “Dad! Pick me up on the interstate!” he shouted.

  Joker and Little Joe’s father were surprised by the sound of gunfire, then watched in a mixture of amusement and consternation as Little Joe sprinted through the parking lot.

  “Not the distraction I was hoping for,” Trader Joe muttered.

  Joker pointed. “Maybe not, but it seems to be working.”

  As the two men watched, almost all the zeds began chasing after Little Joe. Some of them ran in a crooked gait; most of them ambled like Otis the town drunk.

  “It looks like our only chance,” Joker said, took up a cover position, and nodded toward the door.

  Trader Joe needed no further instruction and carefully opened the door. Peering out, he gave the okay sign to Joker and walked out. They got to the parking lot unmolested, but a few zeds, eight to be exact, had chosen not to chase after Little Joe. When they spotted the two men, they started snarling in anticipation of a fresh meal.

  The men were running toward the SUV but had to stop to defend themselves. Joker had his Marine Corp issued K-bar ready. He kicked the nearest one in the face, much like Little Joe had done a few seconds ago, and stabbed another through the eye. Trader Joe attempted to do the same, but his Bowie knife became stuck in the skull of a zed who looked like he had a head the size of a watermelon. Two other zeds had gotten dangerously close, so the older Joe opted to draw his handgun and shoot them.

  Joker knew the gunfire was going to attract any zed who did not already know they were in the parking lot, and they needed to get to the safety of their SUV as quickly as possible. He began shooting quickly, as did Trader Joe. They were coming by the dozens now. Each man fired while on the run. It seemed to take an eternity, but they made it to the SUV as they became swarmed. Getting in, they slammed the doors shut and activated the locks.

  The SUV was a four-wheel-drive and had a lift kit on it. This made it unlikely to become stuck when running over zeds, but the trailer they were towing was a different story. Joker started the vehicle and took off.

  “Let’s get my crazy son,” Trader Joe urged.

  “Yep,” Joker replied. He maneuvered the vehicle around the dead zeds and headed toward the interstate. It wasn’t hard finding Little Joe; there was a horde of forty or fifty zeds chasing after him.

  “Damn,” Joker muttered as he tried to drive around the zeds. Some, he ran over, causing the trailer to bounce up and down. He gave a silent thanks to Josue and Jorge for their thoughtful modifications to the Mount Weather fleet. They were the ones who insisted on the lift kits and oversized tires.

  They caught up with Little Joe on the interstate. He was jogging along, seemingly oblivious to the horde that was chasing him. Joker tapped on his horn. Little Joe looked back with a boyish grin and gave them a thumbs up. Joker drove around the horde and stopped a dozen feet in front. Little Joe sprinted and jumped in the back seat.

  “That was gutsy, I’ll give you that,” Joker remarked as he accelerated away from the horde. He looked in the rearview mirror. Little Joe was breathing heavily, but he was grinning like an adolescent kid who’d gotten his first kiss. He glanced over at Trader Joe, who was frowning.

  “Does he do stuff like this often?” Joker asked.

  “No, he doesn’t,” Trader Joe said and looked back at his son. After a moment, he stared ahead, but he too was grinning.

  Chapter 31 – Patient Eve

  I looked around as the three of us walked to the NBACC building. I could see dark patches of zed bloodstains on the ground, scattered cartridge casings scattered, and there were a couple of barricades that were damaged. Justin mentioned them.

  “Those barricades need some serious repairs. They’re number one on the list of priorities, but it’ll have to wait. My entire crew has been up all night and I’m letting as many as I can get some sleep. For all we know, those stinking bastards are massing somewhere for another attack tonight.”

  “You need more people,” Bob remarked.

  “Yes, we do, Senator,” Justin huffed. He stifled a yawn and did not comment further. He’d put in a request for more personnel a couple of times now. The trouble was, Fort Detrick did not have the amenities that Mount Weather did, which made it difficult to convince anyone living at Mount Weather to relocate. I guess I could have put my sister and her cronies up here, but I’m certain Justin would have shot me in the kneecaps if I’d done that.

  Doctors Smeltzer and Kincaid were waiting for us at the entrance on the main floor.

  “Hello, Zach, Senator Duckworth. It’s good to see the two of you.”

  “It’s good to see the two of you as well,” I said. “Let’s go see the mother and daughter.”

  Doctor Kincaid swapped a look with Doctor Smeltzer. “Ah, no offense, but Senator Duckworth does not have the proper clearance,” he said.

  Bob narrowed his eyes, and then fixed me with an expectant stare.

  There was a time when I would have popped off with an angry retort. I’m a hothead and I know it. Kelly has pointed out more than once that this is not a good character trait and suggested—strongly suggested I might add—that I take a slow deep breath and think it through before responding to something that angered me. I did so now.

  “Doc, who do you think decides who has the necessary security classifications?” I waited a moment before answering. “That would be myself and Senator Duckworth, with the approval of the president, of course.”

  “Oh, I did not know,” he said.

  “Now you do,” I replied, keeping any anger out of my voice. “Let’s proceed.”

  “Of course,” he said and led us down to the lowest level.

  We walked into the front room which had thick windows looking into the lab itself. There was a cot, blankets, a crib, a toilet, and shower, and to my surprise, some baby’s toys. Patient zed was wearing a hospital gown. She was sitting in the corner and she was holding baby zed in her arms. Her rabid eyes locked onto us as soon as we entered, like a snake spotting its next meal. I’d encountered a lot of zeds over the years, and even though there was bulletproof glass separating us, her stare was still an unsettling feelin
g. Bob must have felt the same way.

  “Oh, Lord,” he muttered.

  “Is this your first time seeing the two of them?” I asked.

  He glanced at me and nodded. “I’ve seen the photos, but yes, this is the first.”

  He stared in fascination and stepped closer to the window. Then, he did something stupid. He stepped forward and tapped on the glass, like he was trying to get the attention of a monkey in a zoo. Patient Eve continued staring. She then opened her mouth unusually wide, whipped her head around, and struck the glass with her teeth, gnashing them against the glass.

  Bob jerked back with a gasp. He then looked at us and laughed nervously.

  “That’ll sure get your attention,” he quipped.

  I glanced at Bob and gazed back through the thick glass. I’ve viewed her a couple of times in the past, including the time she was first captured. If I used my imagination, I’d guess she was once an attractive twenty-something; blonde hair, fit body. Unlike all other zeds I’ve been up close with over the years, her eyes were not completely black. There were still pieces of blue iris peeking out, like an errant piece of a jigsaw puzzle forced into a spot where it didn’t belong. The scientists had no explanation for it. Her hands and legs were shackled, but she could still get around.

  “Is she self-aware?” Bob asked. “I mean, I’ve read the reports, but there does not seem to be a definitive answer.”

  Doctor Kincaid cleared his throat. “There is no definitive answer at this time. We believe she is self-aware, but not on a same level as she once was before she was infected.”

  I frowned. “What about the baby? Is it showing any signs of cognition?”

  Doctor Kincaid took a deep breath. “We have tried some techniques. The baby stares at us but otherwise does not respond to any tests.”

  “Is this why you men are really here, Zach?” Doctor Smeltzer asked.

  “Partly, yes,” I replied. “I think Vice President Rhinehart put it best. He said your reports have a lot of words, but they don’t say much of anything.”