Darkness and The Grave: A Zombie Novel

by John Tolliver

  He looked and saw Randy's, Casey's, Jill's and Missy's feet. They were standing together. He also noticed two pairs of boots standing about five feet away.

  He crawled out from under the truck and looked up at the hot barrel of a flamethrower being held by a soldier in an olive hazmat suit.

  "Get up slowly," another soldier in a hazmat suit instructed him.

  He stood up slowly and noticed that both soldiers were wielding flamethrowers.

  "Who are you?" he asked.

  "We are members of the Wolf Pack," the first soldier replied. "You are trespassing on land currently held by the Wolf Pack and are thus under arrest. You will come with us."

  "What if we don't want to?" he replied. "We're trying to get to Chicago."

  "And you're also violating quarantine," the other soldier replied.

  "Son, do as you're told or my partner and I will barbeque you and your friends," the first soldier said with a sinister laugh. "You will now walk north to the next intersection."

  Adam joined the others and they began to walk north away from the truck. He heard a whooshing sound behind him and turned to see the truck was now ablaze. The other soldier was standing about thirty feet from it, spraying bursts of fire at it.

  Adam winced as he watched the Silverado burn up; all of their weapons and supplies were inside. He turned back around and continued on.

  Suddenly two gunshots rang out. He spun around and saw both soldiers fall to the ground, dead.

  "What the...?" he asked.

  He heard a whistle back near the intersection they were being marched to. He looked up and saw two men standing there. One of them waved at him and the others to come forward.

  Adam and the others ran to them.

  "Hey! I'm Jamie Daniels and this is Juan Vega! We are glad to have rescued you!" the taller man introduced himself.

  "I'm Randy Eccleston, that's Adam Doss, that's Casey Newburgh, that's Missy Sanders and that's Jillian Wilson," Randy said.

  "We just rescued you from some rogue soldiers," Juan said.

  "That's the good news," Jamie said.

  "What's the bad news?" Randy asked.

  "This city is full of about five hundred of them, they all have flamethrowers and the city is also full of zombies."

  Chapter Fourteen

  Randy Eccleston

  Day 5

  Randy and the others followed their rescuers through alleys and backyards, leaping over fences and walking around cars as they moved away from downtown Bloomington.

  "Where are you all from?" Jamie asked as he shot at a trio of infected men.

  "We're all from Chicago originally but we are coming from Saint Louis," Randy replied.

  Jamie stopped and looked at him. "So where are you headed?"

  "Chicago."

  He chortled and they kept going.

  "What's so funny?" Randy asked.

  "You," he replied. "You realize that in less than a week, civilization has completely collapsed, right?"

  "Yeah, we saw the military blow up bridges in Saint Louis."

  "Okay, and you've seen all of the zombies wandering around right?"

  "Why are you calling them zombies?"

  Jamie shook his head. "Because that virus, whatever it is they catch, it kills them and then brings them back from the dead as zombies."

  "You've seen them die?"

  "I watched my aunt succumb about a week ago. She was vomiting blood and had an awful fever right before she died. Then she died. I watched her stop breathing. She had been dead for about five hours when I heard a groan come from her bedroom. I walked back there and saw my aunt sitting up on the bed! I just about had a heart attack! She chased me around the house trying to bite me. Finally, I crushed her head with a dumbbell and she stopped."

  Casey whistled. "See Randy? I told you they were zombies."

  Randy glared at his friend and then looked back at Jamie. "I'm sorry to hear that man."

  He shrugged. "Thanks. It's tough. I was living down in southern Illinois, near Carbondale but my family is all from up here originally. So when things went down, I drove up and made it as far as my aunt's house here in Bloomington. Then, after she died, I saw all the soldiers come in. They torched my aunt's house and I barely escaped. I ran into Juan and he invited me to stay with him while we tried to figure out a way to escape from the perimeter the soldiers have set up."

  "Hey, hold up," Juan said.

  Everyone froze alongside a garage. Juan motioned for them to lean against the side of the garage.

  A Humvee carrying soldiers in hazmat suits drove by.

  Juan nodded a few seconds later and they continued on.

  "So Juan, you live here in Bloomington?" Adam asked.

  He shook his head. "No, I actually live in Normal, just north of Bloomington. My house is just down the road from Illinois State University."

  Juan was a short, chubby Hispanic man, a sharp contrast with Jamie's tall, pale, thin figure. Randy wondered about both men. Could he trust them? Had he and his friends leapt from the proverbial frying pan into the fire?

  They followed Juan and Jamie to a large Victorian-style house at the corner of North Linden Street and East Poplar Street. The address was 2015 East Poplar.

  "Is this your place Juan?" Jillian asked.

  He nodded as they walked up the steps onto the covered front porch.

  "It's beautiful!" she exclaimed.

  "Thanks ma'am," he replied. "I bought it about ten years ago and I've lived in it ever since. That's the great thing about these college towns; lots of large, older houses. Come in guys, come in."

  Randy and the others followed him into a spacious living room. He and Jamie sat down at opposite ends of a couch. Randy sat down with Adam and Jillian on another couch and Casey and Missy each sat down in recliners.

  "This is nice," Casey said.

  "Thank you," Juan replied. "I'm afraid we will need to introduce ourselves again. I seem to have forgotten all of your names. I'm sorry."

  "It's okay," Randy replied. “I'll start. I'm Randy Eccleston."

  Adam cleared his throat. "My name is Adam Doss."

  "I'm Jillian Wilson, but most people call me Jill," Jillian said.

  "I'm Casey Newburgh," Casey said.

  "I'm Missy Sanders," Missy said.

  "I am Jamie Daniels,” Jamie said.

  "I am Juan Francisco Vega," Juan said.

  "So let's get down to brass tacks," Jamie said. "You all stumbled into a warzone."

  "I noticed," Randy said.

  "As I said earlier, there are roughly five hundred rogue soldiers patrolling this area. They set up a perimeter all around Bloomington and Normal. The west side of the perimeter follows I-Seventy-Four. The northern side follows I-Fifty-Five, and the south and east sides follow Veterans Parkway. As best we can tell, the soldiers' strategy is wait and torch. They are moving systematically through both cities torching every zombie they find, arresting and summarily executing every uninfected person they find, and torching any buildings they find that are inhabited by either zombies or uninfected people."

  "Where did they come from?" Adam asked.

  "The day after quarantine was declared, they seized the airport on the east side of town and they set up a perimeter around the cities. It would seem that almost everyone living in Bloomington-Normal became a zombie," Juan said.

  "How did you get here Jamie?" Randy asked.

  "I made it in before they closed the perimeter on the southwest side of Bloomington."

  "Who are they?"

  "The best we can tell, they are soldiers from the Army who went rogue following the imposition of quarantine. They act like they're following orders from afar, but who would be commanding them to torch innocent civilians with flamethrowers?" Jamie replied. "It doesn't make any sense."

  "When were you guys planning on escaping?" Missy asked.

  "Well, that's the thing. Their perimeter is pretty solid. We have been exploring night and day and haven't found a
vulnerability yet," Juan said.

  "Where have you looked?" Jillian asked.

  "Southeast and south. From directly east of here all the way around to Southwest Bloomington," Jamie said.

  "So there are still unexplored areas of the perimeter?" Randy asked.

  He nodded.

  "You know, that's a large perimeter for five hundred people to patrol. There's got to be a hole somewhere."

  "Maybe so. I hope so," he said, laughing. "This has been terrible. Just terrible."

  Randy nodded.

  They sat there for a while in silence. Randy looked down at his watch. It was 5:30pm.

  "Hey!" Jamie whispered. "Do you hear that?"

  Randy tilted his head and heard the sound of diesel engines. The sound was growing louder.

  "Get down on the floor!" Juan whispered urgently.

  Everyone slid off the couches and laid on the floor.

  "That's the Wolf Pack. They're on their evening patrol. They'll come through again in six hours," Jamie whispered.

  "They’ll kill anyone they see," Juan added.

  Randy nodded.

  Several vehicles slowly rumbled past the house. He heard shouting down the street and the squealing sound of brakes.

  "No! Please!" a man yelled.

  Then Randy heard the most terrible sound he had ever heard before, a sound like the sound a gas stove makes as a burner lights, but instead of the sound lasting for just a split second, it lasted for what seemed like an eternity. Then, in the midst of the whooshing, he heard a man and a woman screaming almost inhumanly. After a few seconds, their howls fell silent. Then after a few more seconds the terrible swooshing fell silent too. There were footsteps. Several engines spun up and then the rumble of diesel engines faded into the evening.

  Everyone laid there for a long time in silence. Finally, Jamie spoke up.

  "It's safe to sit up now."

  Randy stood up and walked to the window. Just down the street lay two bodies, still ablaze. He shuddered.

  "That's terrible," Adam said quietly as he walked up alongside Randy.

  Randy nodded quietly.

  Juan cleared his throat. "They did that to my partner and his family three nights ago, before I ran into Jamie. I was over at their place, checking on them. You know, we were all confused by the quarantine. Why was a cancer drug causing contagious illness? I knew my business partner's mother had received the treatment just a few weeks earlier, so I had gone over to his place to see how he was doing."

  Randy nodded.

  "Well, Ray said his mom had called a few days before and said she had been okay. He had a covered porch. We were sitting on it; me, his wife and their little boy. We were talking about the soldiers that had reportedly seized control of the city. They had imposed martial law.

  "Suddenly, an APC pulled up in front of the house and four soldiers wearing olive green CBRN suits got out. They were wearing large tanks on their backs and holding flamethrowers," he shuddered as he said that.

  "You see, I knew what a flamethrower looked like. My family immigrated to the United States when I was five, back in Eighty-Four. I was born in Ciudad Manté in Tamaulipas, Mexico. We fled drug violence. One of my earliest memories is watching DEA agents torch fields of marijuana from my bedroom window. I knew what a flamethrower looked like.

  "So the four soldiers walked slowly upto the front porch as the APC waited. Ray asked them what they wanted and they stopped about fifteen feet from his stoop and stood in silence. He got up and walked out to them, asking if they needed help. Without saying anything, they sprayed him with a flamethrower for two seconds," he paused. "And I watched my best friend and business partner burn to death," his voice cracked.

  "And I yelled to his wife and son to run. I stood up and we ran into their house. But where I ran out the backdoor, I didn't realize until it was too late that they had run upstairs. I stopped on the back porch and screamed for them. But then I saw a soldier walking quickly toward me, the nozzle of his weapon pointed at me. There was no time, I had to flee. I ran. I ran for what seemed like a long time. I kept expecting to suddenly be ablaze.

  "When I finally stopped, I turned around and saw smoke rising into the sky in the direction his house was in. They killed my best friend and killed his wife and little boy. I walked by there yesterday, me and Jamie did, and I saw their bodies laid out in the front yard in front of the charred ruins of the house." He shook his head wistfully. "Those soldiers don't care about our safety or wellbeing. They are simply following some secret directive. They are nothing more than thuggish murderers and arsonists."

  Randy nodded. "That's terrible."

  "It is."

  Adam hugged Juan.

  "Thank you Adam," he said. "Thank you Randy."

  Randy nodded. "You're welcome Juan."

  They walked back into the living room and sat down on the couches. In the fading light, Randy saw everyone else was eating from what appeared to be MREs.

  "Where did you guys get those?" he asked.

  "Same place we got guns and flash bang grenades," Jamie said. "We stole them from a parked supply truck near the southeast corner of the perimeter."

  Randy nodded. "Do you have any more?"

  He laughed. "We've got plenty. Pick your poison, we have spaghetti and meatballs or beef stroganoff."

  "I guess I'll take the stroganoff.”

  "Very well, I'll be right back," he said before disappearing into another room. A moment later he returned and handed Randy a small squarish cardboard box.

  "Thanks.”

  "No problem."

  Randy pulled a tab off the side of the box and pulled the flap back. He then pulled out a plastic tray containing a brown bag of stroganoff, a small bag of potato chips, a plastic fork, and a little bottle of Tabasco sauce. He picked up the bag of stroganoff and studied it. There was a small disc on one end of the bag with instructions to squeeze it and then place the bag in the tray. He squeezed the button and immediately felt the bag grow warm. He set it down in the tray and waited. A few minutes later, he tore the bag open and poured the hot noodles into the tray. Honestly, it smelled delicious.

  "Thanks," he said, as he took a bite of hot creamy noodles.

  "No problem Randy," Jamie said.

  "You are all welcome to stay with us until we figure out how to escape," Juan said as it grew dark outside. "I hope that has been obvious."

  "Thanks," Randy said. "Why are you guys doing this?"

  "Because, we have to band together man," Jamie said. "If we scatter, we will either be eaten by zombies or be killed by crazy people."

  He nodded.

  "So tomorrow Juan and I are going to get up just before dawn and set out to explore the perimeter, see if we can find a weak spot. If you guys are willing to accompany us, we can actually split into two groups and probe different areas. We can get the perimeter assessed more quickly that way," Jamie said.

  Randy nodded. "How do we want to split the groups?"

  "Well, why don't you send two or three of your folks with Juan and I'll accompany the others?"

  "Casey, do you and Missy feel comfortable going with Juan tomorrow?"

  Casey nodded. "Yeah."

  "Yeah," Missy said.

  "Okay then. Me, Adam and Jillian will go with you Jamie.”

  "Great, we'll set out in the morning," Juan said. "You are all welcome to sleep anywhere on the second floor of this house. I am going to go to bed."

  "Goodnight Juan," Jamie said.

  "Goodnight, it was nice meeting you all," Juan said as he stood and walked to the stairs.

  "I am going to retire for the night too," Missy said, standing up.

  "Me too," Casey said. "Goodnight guys."

  "Goodnight!" Randy said.

  He sat there silently for a while with Adam, Jillian and Jamie. At length, Jillian spoke up.

  "So Jamie, how old are you?" she asked.

  "I just turned thirty-three about a month ago," he replied.

  "H
appy belated birthday," Randy said.

  "Thanks," he said. "What about you guys?"

  "I'm twenty-six, Jillian is twenty-four and Randy is twenty-five" Adam said.

  Jamie nodded.

  "Do you have any other family, like kids?" Jillian asked.

  He sighed. "I have one daughter. She'd be sixteen now. I haven't seen her in ten years."

  "That's crazy! What happened?” she asked. "Wait, if it's too personal, I understand."

  "No, no, it's fine. I went to prison when she was three and her mother stopped bringing her to visit me a few years later. Then her mother divorced me and they moved far away. I got out of prison a few years ago, but I haven't been able to find them."

  "Why'd you go to prison?" Adam asked.

  "I helped some friends rob a gas station in Kentucky about thirteen years ago. I drove the getaway car and knocked an employee out who was standing outside talking on his cell phone. Of course, the take was pitifully small, but we used it to fuel our heroin habits. We got arrested a few weeks later. I was charged the same as the others, with armed robbery, assault and I was also charged with miscellaneous drug charges. The prosecutor sought a sentence of forty to fifty years in a state prison against me. Ultimately, I accepted a plea bargain where I testified against my two accomplices and was only convicted of the assault and drug charges; the robbery charge was dropped in return for my cooperation. I was sentenced to fifteen years at the Kentucky State Penitentiary. They let me out after ten years on parole."

  Randy whistled. "That's crazy."

  He shook his head and for a moment Randy was worried he had taken offense. "No, it's just the fruit of one bad decision after another. You know, I could blame it on my upbringing. My dad scooted when I was four, my mom married some scumbag named Dwayne. Dwayne used my mom, my siblings and myself as a punching bag, he dragged us back and forth across Appalachia looking for work. We lived paycheck to paycheck throughout my childhood relying on government aid; we wound up getting evicted from more trailers than I could count. There were times my little sister literally had no diapers or formula for days, there were times me and my brother went days without food, I mean, I could keep going on. But the reality is that while I had a lot going against me, I embraced my identity as Hoosier trailer trash.