Wildfire- Destruction of the Dead

by Shaun Harbinger

  “Well, it’s not her going out there and risking her neck,” Tanya said.

  Hart nodded, resigned to the fact that there was nothing he could do to control us once we were out of here. Injecting us with the pure virus wasn’t going to work again; we were all vaccinated. And we still remembered what had happened to Jax. We weren’t going to let that happen again. This time, it was our way or the highway.

  He led us to a long table that held weapons, maps, MRE packs and equipment. An Asian man in a white lab tech’s coat sat at a laptop, waiting for us. Attached to the top of the laptop was a camera.

  “You’ll need to have your photos taken for your ID cards,” Hart said. “If you have any trouble with military personnel, just show them the cards. Officially, you’ll be working for us, which means you’ll be working for the government.”

  We lined up in front of the laptop to have our photos taken. After that was done, the tech took the laptop and left the hangar, presumably to have our cards made.

  “Speaking of the government,” I said to Hart, “where are they? I assume they’re still running the country, or what’s left of it?”

  He nodded. “They are. MacDonald is taking her orders directly from them.”

  “So they’re here?” I asked.

  “No, they aren’t here. They’re giving orders via video link. Their location is classified, of course.”

  “Of course,” I said. They were probably safe in a bunker somewhere while the country they were supposed to be running went to hell.

  “We have maps, weapons, and equipment over here,” Hart said, changing the subject and walking along the table to the supplies. “There’s also army clothing for you if you want it. You might find it more useful than your T-shirts and jeans.”

  He was right about that. The army trousers had more pockets than our jeans, and would dry quicker after getting wet. The combat jackets would be warm. There was even a selection of black army boots of varying sizes for us to choose from.

  The maps had been marked with the locations of Camp Apollo and Camp Prometheus. They had also been weatherproofed with some kind of laminate spray. I picked one up and studied it. Apollo wasn’t far from Apocalypse Island and it looked close enough to the coast that we shouldn’t have too much trouble getting there. Although by now, I should know that nothing was simple. Not when there were zombies everywhere.

  Camp Prometheus was located at a place called Killington Lake, about fifty miles south of the city of Carlisle. I could see a route that we could drive from the coast to the camp, avoiding the city. That place was probably crawling with nasties.

  “Do we know what state the roads are in?” I asked Hart.

  He shrugged. “The army is keeping some of the main roads and motorways open but the smaller roads could be dangerous.”

  I nodded and folded the map before stuffing it into my pocket. I wasn’t expecting this mission to be easy, but there were a lot of variables that were unknown. I didn’t like the unknown; it usually meant trouble.

  I moved along the table to the weapons. As well as the handguns, which I ignored because I still had my Desert Eagle on the boat, there were half a dozen M16 machine guns and a stack of magazines.

  “We don’t know how many zombies or hybrids there will be in the area,” Hart said. “It will be best if you take plenty of firepower.”

  “Cool,” Sam said, picking up one of the M16s and examining it.

  I followed Hart along the table to a supply of flashlights, binoculars, Leatherman multi-purpose tools, hatchets, knives, lengths of paracord, stacks of MRE food packets, and protein bars.

  “There’s a lot of food here,” I said. “This operation shouldn’t take all that long.”

  Hart looked at me with a serious look in his eyes. “We all know what it’s like out there, Alex. It’s best to be prepared.”

  The tech guy came back into the hangar and handed us our ID cards. I looked at mine. It was laminated and had a photo of my face next to the words, “Harley, Alex”. Beneath that was a string of numbers and a bar code. Beneath the bar code was the crest of the Ministry of Defense, a crowned wreath encircling crossed swords, a bird, and an anchor.

  Welcome to government work. Come for the retirement plan, stay because you got zombified.

  “Okay,” Hart shouted to the mechanics in the hangar. “Let’s get this stuff to the dock and onto the boats.”

  6

  I stood on the dock, watching while the truck was unloaded and the boxes were taken aboard the Easy and the Escape. Hart’s team of men moved quickly and efficiently, taking the boxes, weapons, and equipment below decks while a second team crouched in firing positions on the asphalt path, weapons pointed back the way we had come.

  A tense atmosphere hung over the area. We all expected a group of hybrids to come running out of the woods and down the path, teeth bared.

  But that didn’t happen. After a few minutes, the boxes were stowed and we were ready to leave. We had even been provided with Zodiacs so that we could keep the Easy and the Escape out in the deeper water while we went ashore.

  The late morning sun had burned the earlier rain from the dock and boats, turning the day dry and warm.

  If it wasn’t for the fact that we were about to set sail for a zombie-infested mainland from a zombie-infested island, the day could almost be called pleasant.

  “Good luck out there,” Hart said as his men returned to their vehicles. “At least it’s a nice day.”

  As he and his team drove the Jeeps and truck back along the path to Alpha One, Sam, Tanya, Lucy, and myself stood silently watching them. We were all thinking of the task that lay ahead of us. This day was not going to be “nice”. Our mission was dangerous and possibly deadly, and from the moment we set foot on the mainland, everything would probably turn to shit.

  “Let’s get out of here, man,” Sam said, breaking the silence that had descended over us.

  I nodded and began untying the ropes that held The Big Easy to the dock. Once that was done, I jumped on board and climbed up to the bridge. It felt good to be sitting in the familiar pilot’s chair again. The boat felt like home now, and it was the only place I felt safe.

  All of my life, I had spent a lot of time in a place that was my sanctuary from the outside world. Growing up, it had been my bedroom. I had spent a lot of time in there, reading books and playing video games, much to my parents’ chagrin. I’d had few friends but that was fine by me; I enjoyed my own company.

  Later in life, it had been my house. I had locked myself in most weekends, playing games, reading books, and watching movies. Apart from a few outings with my friend Mike, I withdrew from society most of the time.

  Now, my sanctuary was The Big Easy and the safety it provided. And my separation from society was not just the result of social anxiety; it was my best chance for survival.

  Compared to my old life, though, I had more connections with the people around me now. Sam and Tanya were my friends. We had been through life-and-death situations together, and nothing connects people more strongly than a shared experience like that.

  And, of course, I had a strong bond with Lucy. I couldn’t imagine surviving without her. We had fought together side by side and witnessed the deaths of our friends. We had shared in each other’s sorrow and grief. But as well as the dark moments, we had shared good times, and the bond between us had strengthened as a result.

  I heard her coming up the ladder and I turned in my chair. Lucy climbed onto the bridge, dressed in combat boots, jacket and trousers. The jacket was open at the front, showing a white T-shirt beneath. She had pulled her long blonde hair back into a ponytail and she smelled faintly of the peach shower gel she used.

  “How do I look?” she asked, doing a little turn so I could appreciate her from every angle.

  “Like G.I. Joe’s wet dream,” I said.

  She smiled and leaned against the wall, looking through the windscreen at the Escape sailing ahead of us. “I can’t wait to see
that database of survivors.”

  “Yeah, it should be interesting.”

  “I’m not expecting any of my family to be in there,” she said. “I can’t get my hopes up, only to have them destroyed.”

  “Even if they aren’t on the database, it doesn’t mean they aren’t still alive,” I said. “There are other survivors like us, staying away from the camps.”

  She nodded but her eyes were sad. “I know that. But my parents aren’t the type of people who would be able to thrive in…all this shit. If they didn’t make it to a camp, they won’t be alive.”

  “I thought your dad taught you how to shoot.”

  “He did. But my mother is very ill. She can barely get out of bed most days. I know that Dad will try to protect her. He’d rather die with her than live without her.”

  “Maybe they’re both okay,” I said. I knew my words wouldn’t give Lucy any hope; we both knew how bad the situation was. But I didn’t know what else to say I wasn’t even sure if my own parents were still alive.

  I’d heard Joe’s voice on the radio and knew that he and my parents had made it to a camp but that had been a long time ago. The way things were now, you could be alive one minute and dead the next. Or undead, which was probably even worse.

  Lucy said, “We’re going to tell the soldiers at the camp that the vaccine is for everybody, right?”

  “That’s my plan,” I said. “We’re out here risking our lives, so we should have a say in how this all plays out. The people in those camps have just as much right to be vaccinated as the soldiers. Fuck MacDonald and her rules.”

  She smiled and touched my shoulder lightly. “I’m glad we found each other again, Alex.”

  “Even though you went sailing away without me?” I joked, looking at her and raising a quizzical eyebrow.

  She lifted her hand from my shoulder and brought it down again in a fist, her mock punch bringing a mock, “Ouch!” from me.

  “It was you who went off half-cocked into the fog and left me!” she said.

  “Okay, okay, I won’t do anything half-cocked.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I’m sure,” I said. “Especially while you’re wearing that army gear.”

  She punched my arm again and went to the ladder. “I’ll get the weapons and supplies ready to go. Are you going to be wearing army stuff when we go ashore?”

  “I sure am.”

  She frowned.

  “What’s wrong with that?” I asked.

  “Don’t you hate it when couples wear the same thing?” She grinned at me and descended the ladder to the aft deck.

  I turned back to the instrument panel, a huge grin on my face.

  Even the rain pattering against the windows couldn’t dampen my mood.

  The warm glow I felt from Lucy’s words only faded as we neared the rainy coastline and I saw a village and harbor in the distance. As we sailed closer, I could see rows of stone houses whose dark windows looked vacantly out over the sea. A couple of dozen fishing boats floated in the harbor, abandoned and neglected.

  I pointed the binoculars at the houses and streets, looking for movement or any other signs of life.

  The village called Muldoon looked as cold and dead as the grave.

  The radio crackled, and Sam’s voice cut through the static. “This is the place, man.”

  “Yeah,” I said. The hairs on the back of my neck prickled as I looked at the silent houses and streets. I wanted to turn the boat around, head back out to sea and forget all about this dead village.

  Instead, I dropped the anchor and climbed down the ladder to the aft deck. While The Big Easy rolled on the gentle waves, I surveyed the scene on the shoreline again.

  I didn’t believe that this place could be totally abandoned.

  Lucy came out onto the deck. “Something wrong?”

  “I’m just wondering where all the people are.”

  She looked at the village. “Maybe they all went to the camp.”

  “Maybe,” I said. Then something caught my eye in one of the windows. I was sure I’d seen movement. I brought the binoculars up to my eyes and tried to find the window, my senses disoriented momentarily by the sudden magnification.

  I found it and adjusted the focus on the binoculars.

  As the image sharpened, I felt a chill along my spine.

  Looking at me through the glass was an undead woman. She stood partly in shadow but her hateful yellow eyes were easy to see. They were locked on our boat.

  Then another zombie appeared next to her. This one was a man. He was dressed in a dark blue sweater that was tattered and bloody. He stared out at us with the same malevolent expression on his face.

  Movement in the house next door caught my attention. I swept the binoculars across to the windows there to find more zombies, all of them watching us with their yellow eyes.

  “They’re everywhere,” Lucy said. Even without the binoculars she could see the zombies that were appearing in every window of every house.

  “They must have heard us coming,” I said.

  “And they’re all inside because of the rain.” She looked up at the dark clouds. “If we’d arrived when it was sunny, they would have been out on the streets.”

  “Probably.” I lowered the binoculars. “So what do we do now?”

  “It’s simple,” she said. “We pray it doesn’t stop raining before we find a vehicle and get out of here.”

  7

  I went below deck and changed quickly into combat boots, trousers, and jacket. When I got back up to the living area, Lucy was sitting at the dining room table. On the table, she had placed two M16s, the Desert Eagle, and a pair of small handguns. There were also stacks of magazines and an array of equipment. Boxes of the vaccine waited by the door.

  I noticed that Lucy had put five boxes there, enough to vaccinate all of the soldiers and civilians at Camp Apollo.

  “Do you think we’re going to need all this stuff?” I asked, pointing to the guns and equipment.

  “It’s better to be prepared,” she said. “When the rain stops, those zombies are going to come flooding out of the houses in search of prey.”

  “Let’s make sure we’re not here when that happens,” I said.

  She nodded and pushed one of the small handguns toward me. “You might want to take this instead of the Desert Eagle. It’s a Walther PPK, and much easier to carry and handle than that cannon.”

  I picked up the small gun. It was lighter than the Eagle, that was for sure. And the name was familiar. “Walther PPK,” I said. “The same gun James Bond uses.”

  Lucy nodded. “Now, let’s get sorted. We’ll take an M16 each and divide the magazines equally.”

  I put one booted foot on boxes of vaccine and posed with the Walther. “Harley. Alex Harley. License to kill zombies.”

  She groaned and said, “Technically, you can’t kill zombies; they’re already dead. Come on, put these magazines in the ammo pouches on your belt.”

  “I was just trying to lighten the mood,” I said, detecting her annoyance at me. I couldn’t blame her. We were both frightened and running on adrenaline. In my case, that made me try to make light of the situation. In Lucy’s, it made her more serious.

  I decided to keep my mouth shut.

  We went out on deck and untied the Zodiac before lowering it into the water, loading the boxes and guns, and climbing aboard. Lucy started the engine and piloted us toward the Escape.

  Sam and Tanya were waiting on the aft deck, dressed in military clothing and holding M16s.

  When they had climbed down into the Zodiac and Lucy was taking us toward the harbor through the drizzling rain, I felt a familiar feeling of being out of my depth. I might be dressed like a soldier and armed to the teeth, but I had no military training. I was just an ex-gamer-turned-survivor.

  Sam had worked with the survival expert Vigo Johnson and visited hostile environments all over the globe. Tanya had been a journalist in the Middle East and other war
zones. Lucy had shooting experience and had spent her life staying fit.

  And here I was, the odd one out. Dressed like a Call of Duty player at a cosplay convention.

  Lucy tapped my shoulder. I turned around to face her.

  “Everything okay?” she asked.

  I nodded, then turned around again to face the front of the boat, watching the harbor loom larger as we approached. I had to squint to keep the rain out of my eyes. I wished I had brought my diving mask.

  I couldn’t tell Lucy what was bothering me. She would say I was being stupid and remind me that I had saved her life. That was true, and I had faced some overwhelming odds at Site Alpha Two.

  Lucy would say that counted as experience, but I had the nagging feeling that I had only survived this long because of sheer luck. I didn’t feel any more able to deal with the zombie apocalypse now than I did when we were in Wales with Mike and Elena and first heard about the outbreak.

  “Those fuckers better stay in their houses,” Sam said, his voice breaking me away from my thoughts. There seemed to be zombies at every window, watching us quietly. They weren’t going crazy or clawing at the glass or moaning with hunger. I almost wished they had been, because their watchful silence was creepy.

  The only sounds were the humming of the engine and the splash of the Zodiac cutting through the water.

  Lucy guided it around the fishing boats to a small pebble beach and then killed the engine, allowing the front end of the Zodiac to scrape over the pebbles before we all climbed out. Sam took the mooring line and tied it to a metal stake that had been driven into the ground.

  “Let’s find a vehicle and get out of here,” Tanya said.

  “What about the boxes?” I asked, pointing the barrel of my M16 at the wet cardboard boxes in the Zodiac.

  “We’ll get a vehicle,” she said, waving her thumb to indicate Sam and herself. “You two bring the boxes.”

  I nodded. That made sense.

  The gray clouds were parting, showing clear blue sky beyond. The rain was barely more than a drizzle.

  I didn’t have to tell the others that we needed to hurry. Sam and Tanya jogged across the beach to the road that led from the harbor to the village. Lucy and I followed with the boxes, our army boots crunching over the pebbles.