The Zombie Letters

by Shoemate, Billie

  Vicki Rains wanted to say something to Darin. To comfort him somehow. Given his hand in the events that re-shaped everything, how could she comfort someone like that? There was absolutely nothing she could say to someone with the weight of countless deaths on his shoulders. Never before had she felt more powerless. Victoria had become the same woman she was almost a year ago . . . on her ass in the street as the horde of the dead came after her. Darin Miles had saved her, though. Despite his awkwardness and silence on the matters of the heart, she knew he loved her. So, Victoria kept as silent as the destroyed Earth under their feet.

  With his face still in the window, Darin Miles reached to his side and took her hand.

  CHAPTER 12

  I

  Gone.

  Everybody was gone.

  When the sun rose, the base could be seen more clearly. The night before, they had just popped in and out. It was too dark to see anything in there, so they decided to wait until morning. Now, there were what looked like enough bullet holes in the walls of the armory to suggest that a small war was fought inside. From out of the little bullet-proof windows of the APV they had found, it was obvious that the place was of the many last-stands fought by a group of people. There was evidence of death all over the grounds. No bodies were anywhere, aside from those who were already dead. A massive burned pile of them sat next to the edge of the street as if someone somewhere would come by and cart off the garbage. Whoever had fought here placed all the living dead in a large pile and set fire to them. They were obviously survivors that did it. Only human beings could dispose of their fellow man . . . infected or not . . . so callously. There weren’t any of the infected there at all. No wanderers. Thank Christ the armory was in the middle of nowhere. Dennis figured why they’d all left. Those things probably don’t like their meat cooked.

  The travelers of the now destroyed Kentucky sat in the silent APV for nearly an hour, just observing the base around them and waiting for something to happen.

  Nothing.

  The personnel vehicle they found didn’t run anymore. It appeared that someone had used a torch to cut open a flap near the engine compartment. Wires were cut and it appeared as though something had been removed from it. Someone from the base must have been scrounging for parts. It was parked so close to the base that they decided to take a look inside while Christian kept watch outside. Nothing in there but discarded random shit they had no use for. Whoever was there before they arrived probably used it as a dumpster. There were also surveillance cameras everywhere. A couple of them still seemed to be working. Someone had to have been there recently.

  They entered and searched every room. Ana Garner could see the look in Dennis’ eyes when they got to the last rooms in the base. They’d split up individually to scope the place and saw no one else living . . . or dead. “They’re gone. THEY’RE GONE!” Dennis screamed to the ransacked facility. He ran to a corner office door that was open. It was more than likely the base commander’s or officer’s area. Ana stood back and watched Dennis tear the office apart. Nothing survived his surprisingly pure rage. Not the door. Not the windows. Not even the solid maple desk. Her heart broke watching a man in such extreme desperation. He told them the story on the short bike ride over. That must have been so awful to see the look in your loved one’s eyes like Amanda looked at Dennis. Amanda Jackson didn’t see her husband. She saw a monster. She is somewhere now, mourning his death. The people that took them away were doing what they believed was at face-value. They saved a family from one of the living dead. What they didn’t know was that they were shooting at a man who’d nearly bled to death . . . but was still alive. He wasn’t one of those monstrous creatures, though it had to have been convincing at not only that distance, but with so little time to react. Dennis couldn’t react. Hell, he could barely remember it. All he could remember was her face.

  God, that look on her face.

  “The fuck you doin’?” Christian whispered behind Ana. He had to whisper. Another man was in ear-shot. Christian was the only king of the universe when the little wife was the only one in the room.

  “I just walked by and . . .”

  “Can you imagine what that guy’s going through? He’s lost it and your stupid ass is standing here staring at him like he’s some kinda goddamn zoo exhibit. Do you have any decency at all?” he balled up his fist at his side, taking a chunk of his pant leg into his leftie . . . the one with the nastiest hook.

  “Don’t talk to her like that,” Dennis’ voice calmly echoed from the room.

  “Hey, she was the one . . .” Christian said wide-eyed. He mouthed silently to her. I’m gonna get you for that.

  “I don’t care if she was taking a piss on your head. I’m not a moron and that scar under her eye wasn’t a dog bite or a cat scratch, either. Neither are the cigarette burns on her back.”

  Christian’s gaze grew cold. He was a fairly short, skinny guy . . . but he was a scrappy one. Wimp to the fellow men or not, he would still fare well in a fight. “You saw her . . .”

  “I saw her get in the back of the APV with me. I saw one when she moved to sit down. Her shirt got caught on a loose bolt.”

  “So you were lookin’?” Christian said. He was red-faced. Furious, but his voice was shaky and embarrassed.

  Dennis emerged from the room with a fire axe in his hands. Christian Garner’s eyes met it and his face instantly turned white. “I only see things that don’t belong.”

  “I told you, Dennis. This is preposterous,” Ana said with a false laugh. “I have . . .”

  “Those are cigarette burns. I see how you look at her when she makes the slightest step towards you. I can see it on her, too. She didn’t have to tell or show me shit. Personally, I don’t give a damn what you two do. Lady, if you allow this treatment, you are as much to blame as him, but as long as you are with me . . .” Dennis walked towards Christian with the axe and held the blade inches from his face. Christian visibly shrank back. His hands had let loose of his pant legs. Dennis’ eyes were terrifying. He was such a nice man, but both Ana and her husband saw that his personality could switch on a dime whenever it involved two things Ana had noticed about him. His family . . . and mutual respect for others. He had a genuine kindness in his heart, but a hidden sort of rage that rivaled her husband’s. Only the rage Dennis Jackson felt was just. It wasn’t uncontrolled, un-aimed and wild. Dennis’ rage was righteous. “As long as you are with me . . .” he repeated in a cold whisper. His puffy eyes were still leaking his family’s tears. “You leave her alone. You do so much as lay a finger on her and I’ll cut out your tongue and nail it to your forehead.”

  “Easy to say for a man holding an axe,” Christian said in a laughably forced tough-man voice.

  Dennis dropped the axe. It fell to the floor with a loud CLANK that echoed through the whole place. Gunshots must have sounded horrible in here, Dennis thought for a moment. “My friend, I don’t need the axe. You think I am bluffing, you pick it up. Right now. Pick it up off the floor. I DARE you.”

  “You got me wrong, man . . .” Christian looked at his wife. His eyes were wide and pleading. He’d never looked at her like that before. “Tell him, honey.”

  “Boys, knock it off . . . both of you . . .” Ana said. Her authoritative voice sounded so out-of-element that Dennis nearly laughed. He’d better not, though. She asserted herself for probably the first time since he had known her. That was at least a step in the right place. Dennis stared the smaller man down. The smaller man held it for a moment, but blinked and moved his eyes to the window.

  “C’mon, buddy . . .” Christian said, his voice an octave higher now as if he were talking to his best friend.

  “Get out of here, Christian. I wouldn’t say anything more to me for awhile . . . at least until that axe isn’t at arm’s reach. Just remember what I said. I don’t need it.”

  Christian stared at him for a moment and stormed off. His loud footsteps echoed to the other end of the building where they faded aw
ay into the distance.

  II

  There was an open area at the end of the facility that contained another office that Dennis had previously overlooked. Christian was in there, standing in the center of the room. He had a black flight case on an empty desk with the lid open. A thick manila envelope was taped to the top of it. In faded black ink, a name was stenciled on it. Darin Miles. Christian was seated at the desk with his face buried in the open case. “Darin Miles . . . who the hell is that?” Dennis said, reading the stenciled lettering.

  “No idea.” Christian spoke in a curt manner. For a moment, Dennis thought he was still pouting, but Christian stood up with a strange smile on his face. “Dennis . . . they’re looking for someone. There’s a letter in that envelope. I suggest you read it.”

  Dennis ripped the envelope off of the case. Inside were maps of Kentucky and its neighboring states, technical diagrams of what appeared to be a landline phone system, a smaller area-map with cell phone towers circled in blue highlighter, a typed letter and other folded paper materials. The typed letter was instantly recognizable. A Presidential seal was watermarked on their pages. It was from the military. Only official documents from the military look a certain way. They are unmistakable. “What’s going on, here?”

  Christian sat back down and resumed his rummaging through the massive flight case nearly as long and tall as the desk itself. “I think we may have found our answers, my man.”

  Dennis read the letter.

  Doctor Darin Miles,

  Hello, Doctor Miles. My name is General William Teel. United States Army stationed out of Greenbriar Resort in White Sulphur Springs, West Virginia. Don’t bother looking for it. You can dig with an excavator for a month and probably still never find it. It is a fallout bunker constructed in 1952. In early 1947, a group of astronomers noticed something strange. An asteroid the size of Alaska was heading straight for Earth. Just to put things into perspective, the asteroid that killed off the dinosaurs was significantly smaller. This unit would not have destroyed the earth, however . . . but all life on it. As the moment of impact passed, what was an 89% impact possibility proved to be miscalculated with our relatively primitive instruments. It harmlessly floated past us. Scared the shit out of everybody, though. It sort of re-aligned some previously overlooked priorities.

  In the likelihood of an asteroid that large hitting earth, the planet would be damaged. Damaged, but more or less still intact. However, all complex life would cease. Ironically, this near-miss occurred at the same time as the discovery of the atomic bomb and a conflict that would follow. This facility was built in just a few years and it is a remarkable achievement. It is built far underground. There are actually plans in the future, as technology progresses, to build it close to the core of the earth. Considering things like the fact our moon is moving away from us at the rate of an inch a year and the recent discovery that the sun has indeed burned out over three quarters of its fuel. Our little star will still be around a billion years from now, but we have the best scientists in the world, don’t we? If moving to another planet or solar system is an impossibility, something like this facility would be invaluable on what will eventually be a big, frozen ball of matter.

  You are one of those geniuses and over the years, I have always been impressed by you. You once stood at the forefront of scientific achievement. Sadly, due to some circumstances beyond your control, your greatest breakthrough caused a disaster. You colleague and mentor created a series of events that decimated life on this planet. You helped him in his quest at times, but all of us here know full well that your intentions have always been good. The road to hell is paved with them, is it not? I speak to you less ‘officially’ as I would normally address someone in the scientific community, but the world has changed. I do moreso out of respect for your achievements. Also, to extend to you my deepest condolences and sympathies. You are as much a victim in this as anyone else. A few of my team members feel otherwise. They quite frankly, personally blame you for the state of things as they have unfortunately progressed and ballooned out of control. Your research was remarkable. The cure for cancer, neurological illnesses, even aging itself was found with you and the help of your colleagues. I still, even after all that has happened, extend my gratitude. I am not blowing smoke. I genuinely feel this way because your work is far from over. Inasmuch as you assisted mankind before, mankind needs you now more than ever. Any of your employees would have worked just fine, but you were the smoking gun to finding a way to stop this. Your mentor was not possibly an option for reasons you well know. You saw danger and you attempted to prevent it. Sadly, we were all too late. I beg you not to place blame on yourself. This happened and it stemmed from the actions of one man. No one knew what he was going to do. You still owe a debt to your fellow humankind. Like I said, work is far from over.

  We know you are looking for us. Through sheer luck or what some would call fate or even divine providence, we learned of your continued existence. We learned that you were still out there, desperately searching for us. We have brilliant scientists here. They are all just as intelligent as you. Some even more. However, your mind witnessed the research firsthand and even though your reports and notes were easy for them to follow, Doctor Winters kept a lot from us at the end. Reports that you believed had been sent to us were hijacked and changed in order to keep us from doing the experiments ourselves. Basically the last year and a half of your research was changed by Doctor Winters and sent to us. Even if we had the most brilliant minds in the world, they could never come close to fixing this problem that Locke created. The blueprints were more or less erased.

  We have placed these care packages at every major military installation in this country . . . and we are still doing so. There are quite a few. At these installations, we are also placing surveillance equipment so hopefully our paths will cross. You may find it odd that we left all these cameras out here. Trust me. We have our ways of making things work. I am confident that they will. I suspect that some of these packages will be found by other people, but not all of them. If you are indeed visiting every base in this country, you WILL find us. I am worried about one thing, however. We got off to a slow start. You had a huge head-start. Most of your visits have already encompassed most of the western United States (we think), so in all probability, you should be searching on the Eastern half now. I hope to God we haven’t missed each other. But I swear, I will find you. This was a small world before. Now, it is even smaller. I know that one of these identical care packages will find its way into your hands. The envelope contains instructions on how to use the open cellular and landline phone systems so we can be contacted despite the loss of power. Inside the case are items you will need to comfortably survive until we arrive at your location. We have included everything you should need for awhile. I hope it helps until we can be contacted and can arrive. Please, contact us. We need you here at this lab on-site. Continue your research and help us find a way to stop this. That is, if you haven’t found a way already.

  Some who work with me think that I am wasting valuable resources in finding you. I know you’re out there, Miles. I feel it.

  I look forward to seeing you again and I know it goes without saying, but I will say it anyway. Be careful. And God bless.

  -Teel-

  “That’s where they were taken. Had to be. It seemed that the government is looking for some scientist that basically started this whole shit. God . . . what are the odds that the guy who created all this hell was one of the people that survived it?” Dennis said. They were all huddled in the main cafeteria area, eating the MREs supplied by the General and his men.

  “It isn’t as improbable as you think,” Ana said with a mouthful of crackers and peanut butter. “This guy’s research, whatever it was, started all this, right? I figure he would know more than anyone alive how to avoid being killed by those things. He has one heck of a leg-up compared to the rest of us. Imagine what he must understand about them.”

  “I kn
ow what we need to do,” Dennis said. He looked up at Christian. Christian was happily eating, but hadn’t said a word. He sat on top of a table across from Dennis and his wife with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders.

  “What?” Ana asked in a frightened voice.

  “We stay here. Teel’s men visited this place. Christian, you said the case was locked?”

  “Yep. There was a key for it in the envelope that was taped to the front.”

  “Were any weapons missing at all?”

  “Nope. This place looks like no one’s been here at all. All the padlocks on the lockers back there are still shut. Towels are still folded in the head, for crying out loud. Teel’s men didn’t stop to smell the roses and that’s for damn sure. They were in and out. Miles hasn’t been here yet. No one has. The vending machines were still plugged in.”

  Dennis smiled. “See? Listen . . . this is one of the biggest munitions storage facilities in this part of the country. This Darin Miles will be here eventually. If we stay here, it will only be a matter of time before . . .”

  “Come on, Dennis.” Ana said. “How do you know they haven’t found him at another place?”

  “Easy. We can find out whether or not they have Doctor Miles. We can find out if we need to stay here or get our asses to Virginia. Give me that cell tower map, please. Gonna give them a phone call.”

  III

  Dennis hung up the old bag-style cellular phone. Ana and Christian looked on with anticipant looks on their faces. Dennis seemed to have quite a lengthy conversation with them. In Dennis’ mind, he scrambled for the words he wanted to say. They haven’t found him yet, guys. Dennis battled himself inside . . . knowing that staying was more than likely the best-case scenario. Travelling anywhere long-distance was surely a way to get killed. However, if Doctor Miles managed to find one of the packages before hitting this particular base, would the folks at the bunker in White Sulphur Springs even bother to come and get anyone else? They’d have what they want and there would be no use wasting precious resources when they had the cure-maker in the house. With Darin Miles, the government didn’t need to rescue anyone else. Darin was the rescue. Still . . . the base where Dennis now stood frozen in time, thinking himself a billion miles an hour in every direction, was the only major military base within almost two-hundred miles. Not only that, it is right on top of Interstate twenty-four that runs right through Kentucky. Doctor Miles would have to take an interstate route. It would be the only way to navigate anything now. Roads would be so cluttered and mangled with debris that it would take far too much work. If Doctor Miles was anywhere near Kentucky, this was the base he would go to. Dennis was surprised that he hadn’t already been there. The General did work out something with him that eased Dennis’ mind a bit. He would call the number provided regularly, and if and when Doctor Miles was spotted, Dennis would know immediately, giving him and the Garners time to join the rescue party. They would find Doctor Miles together. As sort of a payment for services rendered in keeping the United States Military updated, they would give Dennis time to be taken back to the bunker alongside the man that helped set all of these events in motion.