Slow Burn: A Zombie Novel

by Mike Fosen

  Backing it up to his Durango, he got out of the truck and opened his back hatch, retrieving his large B.O.B and Pelican rifle case. He opened the case and first grabbed one of his several loaded magazines for his Glock 21 and slammed it home. Then he reached for his rifle, a home build he was quite proud of. Working for a small department had its privileges and especially when you were drinking buddies with the Chief. Department letterhead can go a long way, even in a state like Illinois. The 11.5 inch barreled AR-15 rifle was outfitted with an Aimpoint Comp M4 and a Surefire scout light and sound suppressor. With a Redi-Mag and a dozen extra loaded Pmags, Dan was always ready for war. Also in the rifle case was his equally prized Springfield TRP 1911 with a Streamlight TLR-1 light on the rail, along with a dozen loaded magazines for it. He kept a single point sling and drop holster in the case as well, and his chest rig was always in the Durango's bed with his smaller travel bag. Most of Dan’s friends thought of him as a survival nut, but he just called himself prepared. Sure he had been wrong about 12/21/12, but he always knew this day would come. He just didn’t think it would be zombies by any stretch of the imagination.

  The travel bag Dan grabbed contained clothing, and due to the fact that he was soaked to the bone and not wearing any socks or shoes, Dan stripped down naked in the street in front of his remaining neighbors and changed into Woodland Camouflage BDUs, followed by socks and boots. He did notice that he received a lingering glance from his hot neighbor before she was dragged inside by her jealous husband. Now dressed, Dan located the box of Cuban cigars he kept in the glove box of the Durango, along with the bottle of Jack Daniels from the center console. He also grabbed his handheld Yaesu FT-60R 2-meter HAM radio which was lying on the front passenger seat and pulled the magnet antenna from the Durango’s roof. Dan then finished by throwing his B.O.B along with the secondary bag and pelican case in the back of his new ride and set his carbine, locked and loaded, on the seat next to him.

  As he drove off, he growled at his asshole, know-it-all neighbor who had come back outside. “The end is here, I hope you’re ready, jerkoff.”

  The man looked transfixed as the firelight danced off of Dan’s scowling face, and Dan noticed that the man was now holding a golf club. Gunfire erupted from the darkness behind the cul-de-sac but Dan didn’t even slow down. He winked at the guy’s hot wife who was in her pajamas looking out through the front picture window. She looked scared, and he half thought about stopping for her but didn’t. Dan would never see them again and wouldn't miss them either.

  Well maybe her….

  Driving towards the police station, Dan realized that neither the volunteer fire department nor the police ever responded to his house fire. Even though it was now nearly 2300hrs, there was still a lot of traffic on the street and some of it seemed almost panicked. People were driving up and over curbs, and a lot of them were honking horns and disobeying traffic signals.

  Arriving at the small station, he found it dark and empty of officers. There were normally only three officers and a sergeant on duty at night, and after finding a spare radio, he turned it on and heard that his friend, Sgt. Tom Ogle, was currently out near the 122 exit to I-80 directing traffic. Deciding to head that way, Dan first walked to the department armory and punched in his code. Once inside, he lifted one of the three cases of 5.56 ammunition from the shelf, along with a box of 500 .45acp, leaving the other three. Dan wanted to leave the rest for his coworkers and thought about how ironic it was that he needed any ammunition at all, considering the thousands of rounds he had stored in his basement for just this occasion.

  “It seems my plans only lasted until my first contact with the enemy, or in this case, my zombie stripper girlfriend,” Dan muttered to himself, finally managing a half smile.

  Leaving the armory door cracked, Dan exited the station and loaded the ammunition into the back of the truck. Still hungry, he considered raiding the vending machine but held off, knowing that he would be at his buddy Stephen’s house soon and others here may need the food more. Being of like mind, Stephen was well-stocked and there should be plenty to eat. Dan left the station and fought against the steady flow of southbound traffic the five blocks to where Tom was conducting traffic control. Coming across several unattended minor accidents along the way, Dan resisted the urge to stop and instead locked his doors.

  This is not looking good, Dan thought. I wonder what the hell is going on out there?

  Turning on the truck’s radio, Dan heard the tone for the Emergency Broadcast system come over the speakers. It was followed by a voice asking for everyone to remain indoors and to stand by for further instructions. He hit the scan button but found only more of the same. A Spanish station had an announcer speaking a mile a minute, but of course Dan had no idea what he was saying.

  When he pulled up to the intersection Sgt. Ogle was working, he nearly got an ass chewing from his boss, who didn't recognize him at first in the landscaping truck.

  “It has been a long night, and there is no end in sight. I thought you were some idiot trying to get around me and on to the highway!" Tom yelled as Dan exited the truck. "Where did you get the new wheels and why are you dressed for World War Three? You should be in uniform."

  "It’s a long story," Dan replied. "And what's the deal up here?"

  "Well,” Tom replied, “there was some sort of major traffic accident up the interstate about ten miles or so on Joliet's stretch of the highway. First it just had westbound traffic blocked, which would have left us okay, but then eastbound got blocked as well. All the State Police in the district were sent there to help, but now there’s no word coming out of the area at all. Last info we got was of a big fight that spilled off the highway and into the city of Joliet itself."

  “Where did you hear that?” Dan asked. “And have ya been listening to the radio?”

  “From people heading west who were stopping for gas.” Tom looked troubled. “I even sent Mel up the road to see what's going on, and he hasn't shown back up either. I’m hearing lots of rumors on the radio about this flu virus spreading but haven’t had a chance to look into it.”

  “Well I think it’s going to get ugly real quick,” Dan growled. “There’s not much on the radio anymore.”

  A nearby driver slammed his horn in frustration at the slow-moving traffic and Tom cursed the man out and urged him to be patient. Dan could see the scared looks from the faces of the drivers as they passed, and it put him further on edge.

  “And I agree,” Tom replied, continuing the conversation. “I tried calling everyone out to help. We decided to get people off the highway and turned south to get around the crash and back on the highway eastbound again. There is next to no traffic coming westbound and most of those that are seem to be in a pretty big hurry! We sent most of our EMS and firemen up to Joliet to help, as well. I had dispatch try and get ahold of volunteer ambulances and fire trucks from the smaller towns to the west, and had mixed results. Now we got traffic accidents stacking up, and it’s turning into a total clusterfuck. Plus, the worst part is that from the sound of it, this is not a localized event.”

  Dan looked around again at all the traffic and nodded his head.

  “If you want overtime we could sure use the help,” Tom added. “I know you just came off your long work weekend. I've got Bobby trying to get as many of our auxiliaries as he can get a hold of but I’m hearing the phones are down."

  "Well," Dan paused, "normally I would gladly help. However, my house just burnt down and Jasmine is dead...her along with several of my neighbors...but not the hot one, at least not yet."

  The big Sergeant nearly fell backwards. "What the fuck did you just say?"

  He had just recently been promoted and did not need this news added to his watch.

  Dan proceeded to tell him of his recent escapades and his take on what was going on here, in Joliet most likely, and around the country as well.

  "I think the wheels are going to fall off very soon,” Dan advised his friend. “This is goi
ng to get way worse than anyone thinks, and fast. I would get some barricades up on the highway and then get the hell out of Dodge. I left most of the ammunition in the armory with the door unlocked. I'd divide it up with the rest of the boys and then get home to Susan and the kids."

  “You think it’s that bad?” Tom asked, in slight disbelief.

  “Yeah, I do,” Dan stated bluntly. “The evidence is all around you, just look at it. I have been expecting something to happen, and my plans are already in place. My house burning down didn't help, but I'll be fine. You’re going to have to look out for yourself and your family from here on out. Get as far away from Chicago as you can."

  Tom looked visibly shaken, and Dan could see his mind racing at top speed. At that moment, they both looked up at the sound of helicopters and observed a formation of six Army Blackhawk's heading east, fast and low. Tom slowly nodded his head in acceptance and snapped out of his reverie.

  "That's the third formation I have seen in the last two hours. They are up to something, that’s for sure!” Tom finally said. “Thanks for the heads up, Dan. I really appreciate it. My family has fifty acres with a cabin outside of Peoria, and I think my brother was already staying there on vacation this week. I’ll handle everything on this end and get on the road shortly." He extended his hand. "And it looks like we're all gonna have to eat crow for making fun of all your 'coming collapse' warnings these past few years. At least you did talk me into preparing a bit."

  Dan and Tom shook hands.

  "I'll see you when this is all over,” Dan said. “If things get too bad in Peoria, keep your head down and head west, for the mountains. I'm heading up to Joliet for now, to link up with some guys I know and try to figure this mess out. If I get a chance I’ll check on you later.”

  “Good luck,” Tom replied. “I don’t like the thought of deserting my post, but I guess this is it.”

  “Trust me,” Dan said while walking away, “by morning nobody will know or care.”

  Before leaving town, Dan drove into a crowded gas station lot but avoided the long lines at the pumps. He parked near the building and entered the store, being immediately greeted by an argument between a cashier and a customer. The customer was screaming about needing gas while the cashier was calmly explaining how the network was down, and credit cards could not be accepted until the system was back up.

  “Until then it’s cash only,” the cashier repeated.

  Several voices could be heard murmuring at the announcement, and Dan eyed the line in front of the cashier wearily. He walked over to an empty milk crate that was sitting against a wall and picked it up. He next walked to the small section of beef jerky and emptied it into the crate and followed it up with the section of peanuts and trail mix. Walking up to the cooler, he grabbed two gallons of milk and a case of beer as well. He took the heavy load up to the counter as everyone was now staring at him. Dan pulled a large wad of cash from his pocket and set it on the counter. The cash had come from the emergency stash which he always kept tucked away in his travel bag.

  “There is twelve hundred dollars here,” Dan said firmly. “Three hundred oughta cover my tab, and give the rest to everyone else for gas.”

  “Okay, sir,” the cashier said with a puzzled look.

  “And throw in this case of cigars,” Dan added, as he set the box atop his mound of beef jerky.

  Everyone, the cashier included, looked shocked as Dan left the store, leaving the money on the counter. He figured it would not be worth anything shortly.

  At that, Dan climbed in his truck and drove north, passing under the interstate. Traffic was heavy on the expressway, and Dan knew that the public was on the verge of all out panic. It was not a good sign that little Minooka, Illinois, was already in the thick of it on the first day. He eventually made it out of town, and heard Tom over the police radio ordering all his officers back to the station at once. Dan turned off the radio and cleared his mind, finally having time to reflect on the day’s events. It was only eight or so miles north to Stephen's place and he didn’t expect any problems along the way. The thunder of yet another formation of military helicopters broke him from his trance. He glanced upwards and in the process grew close to the center line on the two lane road. The wail of several car horns brought his eyes back to the roadway just in time to swerve back into his lane.

  Better keep my eyes on the road.

  Yet another car flew past in the other direction. Like the others it was easily doing twice the legal speed limit on the open road.

  It looked like everyone was headed out of Joliet, while he was headed into it. He drove on.

  Dan picked up his HAM radio and tried reaching Stephen on their set channel.

  “KC9*@* from KC9#%# do you copy?”

  After several tries he gave up and set the radio back down. He would be there in a few minutes anyway, and could see what was up for himself. It had been a shitty day, and he hoped that it wouldn’t continue that way.

  12

  August 26

  Day 1

  I hurried out of the hospital, trying to keep up with Mattie and Stephen. I looked at my watch and couldn’t believe it was already nearly 2000 hrs. I was beat, but if I said anything I was sure Stephen would have some smart ass comment about my age. Reaching the ambulance bay last, I found that Stephen was already behind the wheel while Mattie was over at her parked squad car opening the trunk. I heard her yelling, but I couldn’t make out what she was saying over the loud diesel engine of the ambulance.

  “You need a hand with something?” I called back, at the same time seeing her lift a duty belt out of her trunk.

  Mattie tossed me the duty gear when I reached her squad.

  “This belonged to Sherman; we might as well hang on to it. I secured his equipment in my trunk after he got hurt. I have his shotgun as well,” she said as she lifted the black soft case from her trunk.

  Mattie stopped what she was doing for a few seconds, starting to tear up. She turned to face me.

  “He was such a good guy Mike!” she said sadly. “I can’t believe what I just saw happen to him.”

  I was about to reach in and give her a hug but instead came close to shitting myself when Stephen fired his pistol from a few feet behind us. Glancing in the direction he had fired, I watched a zombie crumple to the pavement at the entrance to the ambulance bay. Another was stumbling over the dead one as Stephen fired several more shots before a head shot put it down for good. Both appeared to be former patients, and I was sure that there would be more showing up any second.

  “We gotta go, kids," Stephen said hurriedly. "No time for hugs and kisses right now!”

  Stephen jogged to the open ambulance door, hopped in and put it in gear. Mattie and I barely had time to jump in the open back doors with the gear when the ambulance picked up speed.

  "If I didn’t know better I would think he’d have left us," I joked to Mattie, trying to lighten the mood.

  Stephen drove the ambulance south to Cass Street and turned west, yelling something about trying to avoid the mess we had left behind on Jackson Street when I picked him up. Looking at the fuel gage, I heard him curse the firemen for not keeping it filled up.

  “We got a quarter tank is all,” Stephen called back to us as we struggled to not be thrown on the floor by Stephen’s erratic driving. “That’s about ten gallons I think, which should get us maybe a hundred miles max. That’s plenty to get to my place, so we can worry about fuel later. I’m thinking you guys are gonna want to stop by your places and pick up some essentials?”

  "Yes, and let’s try to get there in one piece if possible!" I yelled as Stephen swerved around yet another traffic accident.

  "It doesn’t seem nearly as bad this way," Stephen remarked. "It's definitely going to get worse from what I saw, but we may have enough time to get out of here and back to my place before everything totally falls apart."

  Stephen slowed the ambulance and let out a whistle before stopping completely.

&n
bsp; “That looks like Ryan’s squad,” he said. “Looks like he’s been in an accident.”

  I grabbed my bat and exited the rear of the ambulance, walking to the front to try to get a look at what Stephen was talking about. Sure enough, up ahead was a wrecked squad car.

  “Stay inside,” I said to Mattie. “You don’t need to see this.”

  An infected man was feeding on the carcass of a slain police officer, and even with all the damage to the body, I could tell it was Ryan. It looked like he had been killed in the crash, and I was unsure how long ago it had happened. The zombie, as Stephen was now calling them, suddenly realized I was standing there and lurched to his feet. Blood oozed from his mouth and stained the entire front of his t-shirt red. A long bloody strip of meat was dangling from its mouth as it moaned and started towards me.

  Gripping my bat two handed, I walked right at it and swung it hard with a little verbal abuse as well.

  “You mother fucking piece of shit!” I crushed the zombie’s skull, and the disgusting creature fell to the ground with a sickening thud. I was locked in thought I heard Stephen from behind me.

  “He was riding with Johnny today,” Stephen said quietly, “and I think he’s still in the car.”

  Sure enough, a figure came crawling out from the front passenger seat, using the driver’s side door. As it emerged, I made out that it was indeed Johnny, and from the looks of it he had been feasting on his partner as well.

  “Goddamn,” Stephen muttered in dismay.

  Johnny was now heading our way. His eyes looked dead, and his uniform was caked in blood. He was not the carefree Johnny that I once knew, the one that was always quick with a joke. This Johnny was now howling with a mixture of hunger and anger on his face as he came right at us. Just when I thought I was going to have to crush his skull, Stephen walked up beside me with his Glock drawn.