by L. D. King
She was worried about the baby that was growing in her womb. What kind of life would he or she have in this new, frightening world where there was a good chance that death was around every corner? Kimberly fell asleep with these two thoughts chasing each other around in her mind.
She had wanted to stay close to Riverside in case they could get back. She needed to know what happened to her husband. She hoped her crew would accept the idea of staying in this abandoned gas station for a few days, if they could fortify it and make it safe. It was 1:00 PM when she called her crew together. Kimberly stood and began to talk to her crew.
“All right, we had a rough day. Today, from our van, we witnessed more deaths than we normally do in a year. I think the best thing for us now is to hole up here in this abandoned gas station for a while. Maybe four or five days, maybe a week, until we can see where this zombie thing is going. We’re not far from Riverside. If we can keep safe, then we should stay here to get our heads together on what we should do or where we have to go. What do you think?”
“Kimberly, you’re my boss,” said Jason. “You tell me what you want done and I’ll do it. Don't start by asking me what I think we should do. If you say we need to be here a few days, then we stay. If you say we go, we go. I do recommend that we find a place to get gas in the morning. Maybe we want to think about stripping all the extra gear out of the van to lighten the load.”
“Thank you, Jason. What about you, Floyd? Stay or go?”
“Please don’t make me make that kind of decision for you. I know you want to be close to Riverside because of Henry. Yeah, the majority of the station knows that you guys are married.”
“Damn, Floyd. When did you find that out? We’ve tried hard not to be obvious about it. Some secret. Who else knows?”
“If you ask me, I think the entire station broadcast floor back in the studio knows. No one cares because you get your job done.”
“I guess we didn’t hide our marriage all that well, did we, Thomas? Fine. I want to stay here for a few days to see if this crap will blow over so we can get back home. Let’s get something to eat. I’m starving.”
With that secret out of the bag, Kimberly felt better now that everyone on her crew knows about Henry. “I’m hungry. What do you have to eat, Jason?” she asked.
The next morning, they’d try to see if this zombie crap has started to settle down a bit.
They would be running again.
Chapter 7
Saudi Press Agency
Riyadh, Saudi Arabia
ADZ +30h
When the outbreak began, the citizens of Saudi Arabia had been captivated by the broadcasts of the killings around the world by their government-controlled monitors. At any hour of the day, people could be found gathering in large groups around the public displays. The majority of the citizens of Saudi Arabia could not afford private monitors for themselves. They gathered in public to follow the news. The unfortunate thing was that the creatures started to associate the monitors with their victims. In war, this is referred to as a target-rich environment. For the creatures, it was simply good hunting.
Through the Saudi government’s permission, the Saudi Press Agency rebroadcasted many of the reports covering the zombie outbreak from around the world. This included the reports from Riverside, California and London, England.
Gafar Rahal had been working for the Saudi Press Agency for the last 15 years. He had been born in Hafar Al-Batin, located 72 kilometers from the border of Kuwait. While growing up in Hafar Al Batin, he began his broadcasting career working for a small local television station after he graduated from high school. His first job was as a helper on a mobile broadcast van. Gafar worked hard working his way up through the various positions from helper to reporter.
While Gafar was working for the station, his mother and father were killed in a car crash. Feeling alone in the world without his parents, his aunt, Tijah Naifeh, took him in to live with her.
As a reporter, he had covered the oil wars that occurred as the countries on the Arabian Peninsula isolated themselves from the rest of the world. The management at the Saudi Press Agency took notice of Gafar’s reporting. The station director, Kamal Saab, and the production manager, Ahmed Samara, drove the 400 kilometers to Hafar Al-Batin to meet with Gafar. At the end of their meeting, they offered him a job with their station. The job was at a higher salary that included his own broadcast van and crew.
Gafar was single, his only ties to his town being his aunt, since both of his parents were gone. He quickly accepted their job offer, moving to Riyadh, Saudi Arabia within the week to start his new job.
Gafar had the job he had only dreamed of, the key to what he thought would be the perfect life. Then he received the news that his aunt, Tijah, that had cared for him following his parents’ death, had died as well. Gafar put everything on hold to return to Hafar Al-Batin to attend his aunt’s funeral. After that, he no longer had any ties to the town of his birth. He was free to pursue his dreams.
Shortly after his return to Riyadh, Gafar met his future wife, Raina, while covering a news story about the robbery of her parent’s store. They soon began seeing each other dating only to discover that and discovered they had a lot in common.
There came a day when Gafar scheduled a meeting with Raina’s father. As Saudi custom dictated, a prospective suitor had to ask the girl’s father for his permission to marry. Gafar was very nervous as the two men sat together having tea. Raina’s father had a feeling that he knew why Gafar had asked for this time with him. He asked Gafar many difficult questions so he could watch him struggle before giving Gafar his blessing to marry his daughter.
The marriage ceremony was beautiful. They honeymooned for a week in Al-Jubail on the coast of the Persian Gulf. Married life was good for the both of them. They lived in Hafar Al-Batin for another ten years. Gafar and Raina had two children.
As of this day, it had been 30 hours since the first news reports of Australia Day Zero out of Melbourne, and Gafar was on location reporting on the latest zombie killings in Riyadh.
“This is Gafar Rahal with the Saudi Press Agency in Riyadh, Saudi Arabia. We are near the King Fahd Security College on Prince Bandar Bin Abdulaziz Road behind the Riyadh Bank. We are covering another horrible killing by the zombies. Our camera is focused on the victim. You can see that the victim has been covered with a sheet by the police. There is so much blood and carnage on the ground that the sheet cannot even cover all of it. The sheet was white, but now it is dark red as it has soaked up so much blood.” His face was dark with emotion.
“I spoke with a police officer about what had happened, but the officer did not want to comment publicly about the killing. It is department policy that would not allow police officers to comment on a killing until the report has been closed. I will try to find another person who observed what happened that would be willing to talk to us.”
Gafar walked over to a group of people that had gathered near the body.
“Excuse me. I am Gafar Rahal with the Saudi Press Agency. Was anyone here when the killing started? Yes, you were here? Are you willing to talk to us about the killing? Thank you. If you will please state your name, what you know about what happened looking directly into the camera. Please try to give us as much detail as you feel comfortable with.”
“I am Husayn Nagi. I was working behind the bank when this beast or zombie or whatever they want to call it, came out from the alley back there. It grabbed the first person it could. It was a woman who was grabbed from behind. It bit into the side of her neck. As the zombie had a large bite of her neck, it twisted its head, ripping a hunk of her neck off. The zombie spit the torn part of her neck onto the ground. As quick as it ripped her neck apart, it turned back to her neck again, taking another bite. There was so much blood running down her body to the ground that I did not think she had any more blood to lose. I could even see her spine from where I was standing.”
After a pause, Husayn continued. “I looked at her
eyes. She had the look of sheer terror in them. She could not scream. She could not say anything. Her neck was damaged that much. All she did was look down at her body watching her own blood flow down her body onto the street. She looked up one more time. As we made eye contact again. I could see that she was terrified. I wanted to do something, anything to help her. As we looked at each other, we both knew that she was dying. Her eyes told me that she knew that she was already dead. The only thing that she had to do was to allow herself to die. With a simple nod of her head, she closed her eyes and slumped to the ground, dead. It was like the ground was welcoming her body, allowing her to die as she fell.”
He continued, “The zombie let her limp body drop to the ground, falling into the pool of her own blood. This was sickening to watch. Everyone including myself who had watched her die just stood where they were unable to move. No one could utter a sound. No one could move. My feet were frozen to the ground. It took me a moment to get my feet to move. When the zombie looked up at us. I was able to move. I turned away from the zombie running as fast as I could. I had got across the parking lot and looked back to where the woman had been killed. The zombie was gone. It must have gone back into the shadows. I don’t ever want to see such a thing again as long as I have life on this earth. Allah give me peace.”
“Thank you, Husayn. I am now being waved over to the police officer that I first talked to. Officer Hani, how can I help you?”
“My sergeant asked me to tell you that this is not the first zombie killing we have been called to today. All of the killings by the zombies are being turned over to the GDI. They may ask for a copy of your tape for their investigation.”
“If they request it, I will gladly make a copy for them. Here is my card. They can call me at any time. Once I get back to my studio, I will make a copy which they can pick up at any time.”
He turned back to the camera. “For our viewers who may not know, GDI stands for the General Directorate of Investigation. They do not rush through an incident. They take their time to do an in-depth investigation before they issue their report. We may or may not be given a copy of their report when they are done. If I do get a copy, I will report what is in it to my viewers. In closing, I am Gafar Rahal with the Saudi Press Agency in Riyadh, Saudi Arabia reporting to you.”
As Gafar’s crew started breaking down their equipment. Gafar received a call from their station director assigning them another location to report from. Yet again, it was a zombie incident; this time, however, it was more than just another killing. It was a major battle between the zombies and the police.
“Listen up, everyone,” Gafar said to the crew. “We have another assignment. There is a major battle going on, with a large group of zombies fighting against the police. We need to get there as rapidly as we can. This is the biggest story to date. Our destination is the backside of the King Fahd International Stadium. Where we need to be is on Shaikh Isa Ben Salman Al Khalifah Road, near Ashaikh Jaber Alahmed Alsabah Road. I was told that there is a battle being fought between the stadium security guards and local police, who are trying to drive a large number of zombies away from the stadium, perhaps as many as 60 to 80 zombies. We are only six or seven blocks away. The battle is occurring as we speak. We need to go now. Kamal wants to get as much footage as we can. He is going to put it on the air live without any network editing.”
He spoke to his driver. “Shamz, drive like the wind. We needed to be there five minutes ago. I need you to make sure that you get us as close to the battle as you can. We don’t want to be so close that we will be part of the battle. I do not want to be attacked by the zombies.”
He turned to his technician. “Rizwan, I want you to establish a strong signal to the station so they will receive our footage when we send it. When we arrive, I want you to get the generators running and make sure that our signal is strong at all times.”
To the two cameramen, Moiz and Tetsuo, he gave detailed instructions. “Moiz, get the handheld camera. We will send them whatever we can on the way there. When we get there, be sure to keep filming until the production camera is set up.”
“Yes, sir,” said Moiz.
“Tetsuo, as soon as we stop, I want you to get the production camera set up for Moiz. We don’t want to miss a single second of coverage. As soon as the camera is ready, let Moiz know and he will give you the handheld. I want you to use it to get additional footage of what is going on around us. We will transmit both pieces back to the studio.”
Taha was the audio technician on the crew. “I want you to strive for the very best sound quality you have ever produced in your career. I want our viewers to hear the gunshots, the people shouting, the last sound that people make as they are dying. Record anything and everything that makes any type of sound connected with this battle.”
“Understood,” said Taha.
“Tetsuo, as you are filming keep your head on a swivel for anyone who needs an extra hand. Drop the handheld to help them. Then go back to filming.”
“Right!” said Tetsuo.
“Rizwan, I want you and Shamz to keep a lookout for wandering zombies that get too close to us. I don’t want any of this crew to be on the news.”
He looked around at his crew. “Okay, everyone. You each have a job to do, and you need to do it. Our first job is to work safely, and to keep each other safe while we get the very best news that we can. Remember, it is being broadcast live; watch what comes out of your mouth. You can be fined or even fired for swearing.”
On the drive to the stadium, Shamz drove like a madman. He dodged cars, he drove on the sidewalks, he swerved around anything that was in their way. As they got closer, he cried out, “Gafar, we are close. I have my window open; I can hear the gunfire, and I can hear people screaming. Open your window, you should be able to hear them. People are dying over there.”
“I hear them,” said Gafar. “Look over there, between those buildings we’re passing. I can see the battle between them. Drive over that way. Get us between those buildings. Those building look like they are above the parking lot where they are fighting. We will be able to get great shots from there. That is where we will broadcast from. Shamz, don’t worry about the abandoned cars. Drive as fast as you can, even if you have to cross sidewalks or fields do so. If you bump an empty car, keep going. We have a job to do. This story needs to be told, now. Rizwan, do you still have a good signal to the station?”
“I do. They have received everything that Moiz has transmitted since we left our last location. Our signal will stay strong. When we stop, I will bounce our signal off of the stadium’s towers for better strength.”
“All right, Gafar, across the grounds we go. Hold on to something, everyone. It’s going to get rough.”
Shamz drove like the broadcast van was on fire.
“Gafar, are these the buildings you were talking about?”
“This is perfect, Shamz. We all know what our job is. Let’s get going. I want everyone to be on top of things. The most important thing is that I want to leave here with everyone that I came with. Be safe.”
The broadcast van came to a stop. Everyone jumped out as quickly as they could, performing their various jobs in order to get the van ready to transmit back to the station. Moiz stood behind the production camera that Tetsuo had set up. Gafar was ready, standing in front of the camera. He was ready for the biggest news story that he had ever produced in his broadcast career. Moiz counted him down from three, two…
“This is Gafar Rahal with the Saudi Press Agency in Riyadh. We are reporting from behind the King Fahd International Stadium on Shaikh Isa Ben Salman Al Khalifah Road. Our broadcast is being aired live. There will be no editing done to this broadcast. Some of this material may not be suitable for younger children. You will be viewing actual events as they occur. From where I am standing, I can see some 70 to 100 zombies, maybe more.” He gestured toward the area where the zombies were milling about.
“There are considerably many more zombies down on t
he grounds that I cannot see from this location. Our point of view is blocked by several buildings and trees. The zombies are killing people as fast as they can catch them. The dead bodies are spread throughout the parking lot and grassy areas. There are too many bodies for an accurate count from where we are situated. If we were any closer, we would not be safe. There is so much blood that has been spilled onto the ground that it is running down the curbing next to the parade grounds, and there are still more bodies there, all torn to shreds. With so many body parts lying on the ground, it looks like the floor of a slaughterhouse.”
He turned toward the scene slightly. “We can hear the security police from the stadium shooting the zombies as quickly as they can. The city police are shooting at them as well. It sounds like a war is going on. In the footage you’re seeing now, you can see that when a zombie is shot, the force of the bullet may spin the zombie around, may even knock it down, but if you look closely, you will see that after a zombie has been shot, it quickly returns to what it was doing. It’s dreadfully apparent that being shot simply does not stop them. The zombie’s job, its only job, is killing anyone that they can get hold of. This they repeat, over and over again.”
Suddenly Gahar got a look of panic on his face. “Oh, no! Moiz, are you getting this? Some of the stadium guards have stopped firing. I can’t make out why just yet... Oh, my God! More of them have stopped firing. It looks like they’ve run out of ammunition. They’re turning and running. The zombies can’t move as fast as the guards, but the zombies have them surrounded… Oh, no! No! They’re herding them down the side of the building that the stadium wall is connected to. The wall is about six meters high, running at an angle to the wall of the building… It’s a dead end! There will not be any way out once they’re forced into it. In a minute or two, the guards will be trapped! Now they are all out of ammunition… the zombies are pushing them into the dead end. There must be 60 or more zombies against 35 to 40 security guards. With no weapons besides their empty guns, they’re doomed.”