“Already on it!” Mikki answered, chambering the first grenade in the belt.
Due to the debris and collapse buildings, there was only one street the brain-eaters could come down, so Floyd parked at the end of it, just as they came around the corner. “Here they come!” he announced.
“Not for long!”
The grenade launcher worked flawlessly. It was a beautiful thing to see. One explosion after another as grenades rained down on the undead in a flurry of fire and shrapnel.
Pow! Pow! Pow! Pow! Pow!
Body parts flew everywhere. Mikki was in paradise. “Yeehaw!!!”
The wave finally ended just as Mikki reached the end of the first belt. She fired off the last few 50mm grenades just for fun, then changed the belt and got it ready for the next time, whenever that might be.
Floyd spun the Doom Buggy around and headed back to the others. As he pulled up, he said to Mikki. “So, you ready to finish the job?”
“Really?” she asked, her eyes as wide as a kid who got a real pony on Christmas morning.
“Sure. Why not? Nothing left there we need now. Enjoy yourself.”
“Oh, you know I will!”
He handed her a blockbuster, popped out the sight and firing mechanism, and allowed her to do the honors. She zoomed in on the hospital and pulled the trigger. No one else knew what was going on or what to expect, but Floyd smiled big inside his helmet, sitting in the buggy driver seat.
A mini-mushroom cloud erupted into the sky. A few moments later, the blast hit, rocking all the vehicles, and nearly blowing over anyone who was standing. Whatever that “hospital” really was, it would pose no problem in the future. Now, nothing was left of the town but a few deep, charred pits, and one currently smoking hole.
Once they made it back to the camp, they commandeered the Comm trailer and piled several mattresses they had scrounged from other areas to make one rally big, comfy bed. It was the first time they had been alone together since Mikki had fully healed and they made up for lost time. They locked the outer door and made love for hours, until they literally collapsed and couldn’t take any more.
As she lay in his arms, fully exhausted and on the verge of sleep, Floyd said, “Dead zombies and hot sex. This day just couldn’t get any better for you, could it?”
Mikki said nothing. She just smiled as she buried her head in his chest and fell asleep. Just like the picture she had drawn before.
Chapter Fifty-Seven
“Holy shit! Did you see that?”
“Yeah! Radical!”
Although small in nuclear terms, the mushroom cloud was easily picked up by the satellite for display on the screens that two soldiers were watching, half a country away. They patched the signal into Colonel Trowbridge’s monitor, knowing he would want to see this.
As it was, the colonel wasn’t at his desk. “Ten hut!” someone shouted and half a dozen men and women jumped to their feet as he entered the area.
“At ease!” he called, without breaking his stride. He had just left a very disturbing meeting and was in a sour mood. He headed straight for his office and slammed the door shut behind him.
Morons! Fools! Now what would he do? The very fate of the world might be on his shoulders. The salvation of all mankind might very well be up to him. What should he do? What would he do?
The meeting had not gone well, at all. The civilian government was all that was left of the United States. At least, in any organized fashion. Pockets of civilization and tiny settlements of various kinds still existed across America, but New California Haven was the only remnant of the federal republic that once was the world’s primary superpower. It was the last bastion of the US Constitution.
And that was the problem. As highly regarded as he was, as much power as he held, and as many people as there were who would follow him to the death, Colonel Trowbridge was not in charge. He was the top military leader, but this was not a military dictatorship. Elected officials ran the government, as it should be, but they were not concerned with anything outside their relatively tiny realm of influence. They had long ago written off the rest of the world as dead. They saw no reason to change now.
But there was a reason. Or at least, there might be, but the colonel could see their point, too. They were elected to lead and protect the people of NCH. They had no responsibility or authority to intervene anywhere else in the world, even if it meant the survival or demise of the human race.
But didn’t the magnitude of that choice, in itself, obligate everyone to do everything possible to ensure Mankind’s survival? Didn’t the needs of humanity as a whole outweigh all other concerns? And if they had the chance to help, but let it pass by, would not History judge them as harshly as any mass genocidal murderer? Would they not, in fact, be as bad as Hitler or Stalin by their inaction?
But again, this community was not under martial law and the colonel was not a military dictator. He had taken an oath to support and defend the Constitution against all enemies, foreign and domestic. He was sworn to follow the duly elected civilian leadership, whether he agreed with them or not. That civilian leadership was all that remained of the Constitution.
On the other hand, were not the civilian leaders failing in their duty to uphold the Constitution? One of the primary obligations of the federal government under the Constitution was to protect the citizens of the United States and to “provide for the common welfare.” What could be a greater “common welfare” than eliminating the zombie threat from the face of the planet forever? By failing to act, where they not, in fact, enemies of the very Constitution that they also swore to uphold?
But even if they were, how could Colonel Trowbridge support the Constitution if he violated it by seizing power? How would be any different from any other crackpot, tinhorn dictator throughout history? What gave him that kind of authority? Sure, with all the troops at his command, he had the might. But might does not make right.
He had argued his best. He had made his case. He had pleaded with passion and energy. But they still refused. They had in fact ordered him not to get involved. They reminded him that his first duty was to protect the people of this community, regardless of anything else that may or may not be happening in the world. He could not dispute that. It was all true.
But it still wasn’t right. And so he sat at his desk, lost in thought, pondering his next move. None of his choices were satisfactory.
Option 1: He could do as he was ordered. The good soldier. Loyal and true. He had tried his best. He could not be blamed. Or could he?
Option 2: He could remove the leadership by force. The civilian leaders had made it easy. Ignoring the Second Amendment rights of the Constitution they were elected under, they had eliminated the rights of any citizen to keep or bear arms. Citing “highly unusual circumstances,” they had disarmed the population to prevent an uprising if tensions got high. Of course, this meant anyone willing to support them would be powerless against the colonel and his troops. But would all of his troops really follow him? Surely, some of them would feel compelled to follow their own oaths to the Constitution by defending the civilian government. Colonel Trowbridge was confident such a rebellion against him would be small, but could he legitimately rule at the cost of a civil war? And would his troops really fire on unarmed civilians, even if necessary?
Option 3: There was no Option 3, and he desperately needed one. Options 1 and 2 were both unacceptable.
When he first received the message from the Rampart facility, he was more than a little wary. When the three navy men arrived in the Obama TAV, it prompted a cautious optimism. But this last conversation with the doctors at Rampart had convinced him, and instilled a sense of urgency.
A cure! Or rather, an inoculation. A prevention.
Ensign Lokepa Kahanamoku was the key. More specifically, his blood was the key. He was the success they all had been desperately looking for. Bitten repeatedly, yet never showing any sign of the disease. If they could get him to Rampart—or at least a
sample of his blood—they could create a serum that would prevent the infection. This time, without any of the harmful side effects that had plagued the testing process since it started. It could literally save all humanity.
But Rampart was on the East Coast, and the civilian government would not allow even a small expeditionary force to leave NCH. They insisted that the world was still a dangerous place, and military assets were limited. They couldn’t afford to allow a single vehicle or squad to leave the area. The citizens of NCH came first. Period.
So what would he do now? What could he do now? What should he do now? Where was Option 3?
He noticed the icon flashing on one of his monitors, indicating he had new email. Of course, he had new email! He always had new email. A ton of new email. Most of it boring, mundane, and somewhat ridiculous. He clicked the mouse and scrolled through the topics. One message, however, was marked High Priority and had the subject “FM Alert.”
Colonel Trowbridge smiled. What were those two up to now? He opened the email and clicked the link. An image appeared of a minor nuclear explosion. The date stamp indicated that it happened less than an hour ago. He wasn’t surprised.
He picked up the remote and changed the channel on Monitor 3 to Channel 5. There they were, and they weren’t alone. Over the intercom, he asked the technicians to zoom in. Looks like they had taken over one of the First Responder military camps, including the uniforms. It took less than a minute to identify them leading some kind of fighting practice. They weren’t wearing helmets, so the bright red and bleach blonde hair really stood out. Looks like they had done alright for themselves out there.
That’s when it hit him. Like a flash of lightening in the brain. Option 3!
Colonel Trowbridge picked up the phone and punched in three numbers. When the line was answered, he said only one thing. The only thing that mattered. The only thing that just might save the Human Race.
“Get me Floyd and Mikki!”
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F&M UPDATE
Thanks to all the fans who made Floyd & Mikki: Zombie Hunters a big success! I originally had no plans for a second book, but like many of the fans, I couldn’t stop thinking about Floyd and Mikki. Where would they go, once they left NCH? What kind of adventures would they have? True, I had laid the seeds for a second book as I neared the end of writing the first book, but a good author needs to know when to stop.
Far too often, the second and third episodes in a series (books or movies) should have been left unwritten. Far too often, the sequel in a series doesn’t have the same spark as the original. Far too often, sitcoms on TV keep running long after the writers have run out of fresh ideas.
I thought of the second Indiana Jones movie, how they went over the top with the bugs and the monkey brains, and added the stupid kid who was neither funny nor endearing (not the kid’s fault). I thought of how the series was redeemed in the third movie (thanks to a return to its roots and the brilliant casting of Sean Connery as Indie’s Dad), only to blow it again with that travesty of a movie about crystal alien skulls. And do I need to point out that Star Wars 1, 2 and 3 should have stayed Episodes IV, V and VI, rather than I, II and III?
However, I kept thinking up new, fun, funny, creepy, heart-wrenching, and horrifying situations for our heroes. I had to ramp up the characters and ramp up the zombies, but I didn’t want to get too cartoony. Everything had to be realistic and move forward in a way that made sense. And this time, I wanted to have a definite ending that would satisfy everyone, rather than end on a note of irony as I did in the first book. Eventually, I realized that I did have enough material for two more books that would keep the readers engaged. In book two, the zombies get badder, the weapons get bigger, and Floyd and Mikki get better.
No, they don’t find steroids or super drugs, but they do train hard and find better armor. They also find more survivors. And of course, although they turned their backs on New California Haven, they can never really get away from its reach. Along the way, they encounter new, terrible enemies in the most unlikely of places, including some that they just can’t beat. And yet, they keep on keepin’ on.
Spoiler Alert: There will also be a Book 4, in which I spoof the series itself.
And I haven’t forgotten about The Zombie Apocalypse Survival Handbook: How to Live with the Undead
So here’s to Floyd and Mikki! Thanks to those who read my first drafts and kept begging for more. Thanks to everyone who blogged and tweeted about the first book, and those who gave it glowing reviews. Without them, there still might have been a Book 2 and 3, but no one would ever know or care about them. And I want to give special thanks to you, for reading and enjoying the series.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
As always, my first thanks goes to “Michele With One L,” who inspired a bad joke of mine that led to this series (yes, I know that “with” is generally not capitalized in a title, but this is her name now). Special thanks to Cristian S. Aluas, whose sketches of Floyd and Mikki appear in this book, as well as in Book 1.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
A true renaissance man, Joseph Tatner holds a BA in Communications and an MA in National Security Studies. He has written numerous published Web and print articles, books, technical documents and promotional materials, and holds credentials as a Master Federal Career Coach, Master Federal Resume Writer and Master Military Transition Resume Writer. He wrote the book Autism: A New Hope with Dr. Cheri L. Florence and edited the definitive compendium on America, Opus Americana. Joseph has written countless documents for companies such as Shell Oil, Southern California Edison, Cedars-Sinai Medical Center, Nevada Energy, and Las Vegas Sands Corp.
After writing so many technical manuals over the years, Joseph nearly turned into a zombie himself, so he has a unique insight into the mindless void of a soulless drone. Yet like his father before him, Jack Tatner (who was a famous musician in the 1940s), Joe has kept his offbeat sense of humor. He has a unique talent for taking an otherwise normal situation and turning it on its head, then twisting it again with delightful, thought-provoking results. This is not just a brainless zombie novel. Floyd and Mikki: Zombie Hunters is an unpredictable adventure that keeps you guessing and waiting on the edge of your seat to see what comes next. Joe is a modern day Gilbert and Sullivan, examining humanity, society and personal relationships in a topsy-turvy apocalyptic world.
Joseph Tatner began his life as a genuine Forrest Gump (with a substantially higher IQ). His legs were deformed, requiring leg braces and orthopedic shoes for the first two years of his life. The doctor suggested he get into dancing to strengthen his legs, but he suffered from severe childhood asthma. At age 8, he finally began tap, jazz and ballet dancing and at age 9 made his television debut tap dancing in an early episode of The Partridge Family. This led to a long career in television, stage, film and radio as a true triple threat: singer/dancer/actor. Joe lost his voice temporarily to a freakish growth on one vocal cord that required surgery. It was nearly ten years before he could sing again, but he studied opera in Milan, Italy and can be seen occasionally singing and dancing on stage or in a walk-on role in the movies.
Joseph heard another calling early in his life and entered the seminary to become a priest, even studying for a year in Rome before returning to the United States, where a car accident injured his back. After a year of therapy and mounting bills, he started an entertainment business, producing shows and eventually performing again. Then he joined the United States Air Force and was commissioned as a Second Lieutenant. The day he arrived at his
base, however, all the KC-135 tanker aircraft he was supposed to maintain were sent to the reserve unit on base, meaning the planes stayed there but he officially had no position. A year later, he resigned honorably from the Air Force after his two requests to volunteer for service in Iraq were denied.
While in the Air Force, Joseph bought his first AT&T computer. Playing the latest games required the ability to install new memory, hard drives, video cards, etc. Before long, he became a recognized Geek and was soon writing technical documents or managing complex IT projects throughout the US and overseas. He currently works from home as a freelance writer, taking care of his 11-year-old daughter.
Despite numerous challenges and setbacks, Joseph is living proof that you can't keep a good man down. This spirit of never giving up and determination to conquer all odds is pervasive throughout Floyd and Mikki.
Long live Floyd and Mikki and what they stand for!
Floyd & Mikki (Book 2): Zombie Slayers (Dawn of the Living) Page 28