Calm Before The Storm (Apocalypse Paused Book 6)

by Michael Todd

  He fell to his knees at Wallace’s side. “Keep pressure on it,” he said. “I’m gonna get you out of here, okay? I can…uh, I can probably take your suit off, and…uh, then make a sling or something and drag you back. Sit tight, okay?”

  “Chris,” Wallace said. “You’re a smart guy. Don’t…be an idiot. Look at that wound. Deep. He got me…deep. Internal bleeding, man. This isn’t…” He half-coughed and half-swallowed. “It isn’t the kind of thing you…struggle back through miles of jungle…with.” He suspected, now that he’d had more time to think about it, that Hall’s knife might well have hit his stomach or upper intestines, maybe even his diaphragm. The blood loss they could see was only half of it. He was already lightheaded and felt terribly dry and parched.

  He released his breath slowly. “I’m done, Chris.”

  His friend stared blankly at him and didn’t speak at first or even breathe. He had, for the moment, become a deer in the headlights or a child having some grown-up concept explained to him that was beyond his current understanding.

  “You’re not…” He dragged in a ragged breath. “I mean…no. We’re not simply giving up.”

  The man simply didn’t get it. Wallace shook his head from side to side, the motion slow and gentle. Chris didn’t seem to grasp its meaning.

  “Well…well…” The scientist looked around wildly. He was distraught and on the verge of panic—the kind of panic people went into not out of fear for themselves but when they were overwhelmed by a sense of helplessness. “No. Just—no, okay? I won’t let you die here. I won’t abandon you. You didn’t abandon me, right?” He interspersed his sentences with swallowing motions and the odd sniffle, and his eyes shone with the glimmer of tears.

  Before Wallace could protest, Chris went to work to remove his suit. It was a stupid move as it would take a while, and the man really ought to hurry toward civilization or maybe find a hiding place. He simply should not sit out in the open and waste time on a lost cause even though the Zoo’s monsters completely ignored them. Despite common sense, he allowed his friend to unplug his headset and gradually strip off the heavy, high-tech suit that had kept him in the field for months beyond the point nature had intended. By now, he was pretty fucking tired.

  “My brother, Jerry Wallace…he moved to Overland Park… And Peppy and Gunnar… Tell them I said goodbye.” His companion did not respond to this and opened the plates that surrounded his lower torso. His hands shook badly as he worked around all the spilled blood.

  “I always assumed,” the sergeant said as Chris proceeded to pull his leg armor off, “my whole life…ever since I decided what I wanted to…do with it…that I would die in the service…of my country.”

  He had joined up long, long ago, it seemed. Right when the Islamic State—or Daesh or whatever they called it—came to power and began to spread its reign of evil across that part of the world. As a brash and stupid young man, not much more than a kid, he’d pictured himself going out in a big blaze of glory while stopping those sons of bitches from starting World War Three. It hadn’t quite worked out that way. And in all the other actions he had been involved in, he’d had plenty of other opportunities to die but somehow hadn’t.

  “Now…” Wallace went on, “here, at the end…I guess, honestly, I’m happy…to die in the…service of my friend.” He began to feel numb and tingly and oddly nice and warm.

  The scientist had finished removing most of Wallace’s cybernetic armor which left, for the most part, only the actual man. Or what was left of him. He looked at Wallace and his face grew calmer, red-eyed and tear-streaked though it was. He must have seen something that finally convinced him of the inevitable—maybe he’d grown especially pale, even by ginger standards, or something in his eyes had already changed.

  Chris looked into his eyes before he stood. He glanced at the world around them, although it wasn’t really the same world, not anymore. The Surge had already begun to slow and stabilize in this part of the jungle. The frenzied impetus had moved ever outwards toward the rest of the planet that had, until now, belonged to humankind.

  “You are my friend,” Chris said, slowly, “but you’re not dying only for me or for your country. The Zoo is an alien incursion. This is the start of a new war, one way more important than any in a long, long time. You have made this sacrifice in the service of your species. Of your world.” He sniffed. “And I will make sure that our world doesn’t forget it.”

  Wallace willed his face muscles to smile. When this moment came, as he’d pretty much always known it would, he could have done far worse for company. And maybe, just maybe, it would all be worth it.

  As his world went black, the last thing he saw was Chris saluting him.

  Epilogue

  It had been more than two weeks. Somehow, he had managed to stay alive, even though he’d been by himself in that place and totally alone.

  “Of all the wanton fuckery…” he muttered as he trudged through hot sand—so much sand and so little of anything else. Rocks, in some cases. Blue sky and sunshine, too. At least there was plenty of that.

  Once the Surge had begun, there was no simple stroll out of the Zoo. It had never been an easy place to get out of even if it was, at the time, only about six miles in diameter. For all its dangers and obstacles, its legions of monsters and its treacherously-shifting terrain, it simply wasn’t all that big. On a good day, no matter where you were, you could escape in a couple of hours. On a good day, one when you weren’t actively being hunted.

  Now, it was bigger. Much, much bigger.

  Once the Surge had begun, there was no way to call for backup or extraction. Wall One had fallen, just as Kemp—or the thing that pretended to be Kemp—had said. During his long trek, he had passed its ruins. In the span of mere days, it had been reduced to what looked like the ancient remnants of some lost civilization. A barely coherent tumble of concrete and metal, blocks and bricks, grown over already with vines and creepers and roots.

  There had been no bodies. Perhaps Wallace had gotten through to someone at the base and they had managed to evacuate the wall. Perhaps, but Chris didn’t think so. Some of the damage to the structure was clearly from human weapons. There had been numerous signs of a struggle. Very likely, the Zoo had taken them all, consumed them, and turned them into fuel for the engine of its ravenous expansion. So many people.

  Chris had survived by hiding, sneaking, waiting, hiding again, and sneaking some more. It had taken all the skills he’d developed not only since that phone call had brought him to North Africa and changed his life, but all the skills he’d learned in life in general. The Zoo had at least provided him with food and water. The Alien Goop seemed to aggressively expunge any sort of pathological or parasitic organism that might interfere with the health of its creatures. As a result, neither the strange fruits and vegetables he had found or the water that increasingly flowed in newborn streams, had made him sick. Or so he hoped. He’d have to get back to civilization before he could be certain he hadn’t picked up one of those intestinal parasites that only gradually made its intrusion known.

  All sorts of new, frightening creatures had emerged as well. Chris saw some of them only fleetingly, and his heart leapt into his throat each time he wondered, morbidly, what in God’s name they might be. The Zoo had not ceased in its production of different kinds of monstrosities that could kill and terrorize human beings.

  And in the many quiet moments of solitude he’d had, he thought about Wallace. Jesus, was that man ever a hero. And not only him. So many brave people had died.

  Finally, after days upon days, he had broken through and emerged into the Sahara. At the edge of the jungle, he could pause—as indeed he had—for a minute and actually, literally watch the grass grow. And the trees. The Zoo spread at an incredible rate. Chris had escaped it not far from one of the gaps in the still unfinished Wall Two. He couldn’t remember offhand exactly how far the second wall was from the first, but it was quite a few miles. Yet already, the Zoo had ne
arly closed that distance.

  Now, in the empty desert that itself was regarded as dangerous as all hell, he felt safe. At least he was out. He would need to decide where he would go next. Of course, he had to stop at one of the bases—if any still existed. There would be no water otherwise, and that would be the end of that. He’d figure it out.

  He looked over his shoulder for one last glimpse of the jungle. At this distance, it reminded him of the first time he’d ever seen it on the helicopter with Gunnar as they came in from Tunisia—a shocking expanse of bright green life that rose improbably out of the much larger expanse of dead, barren earth. From out there, it looked—as it had on that first day—like the Garden of Eden.

  Chris turned and walked away from it.

  Like the original Eden—if one believed in such things—human beings were not ready for it. How could they be? But mankind would have to try.

  They would be back, sooner or later. The…entities who had sent the missile containing the goop, to begin with. The ones who used the Zoo to terraform Planet Earth to their specifications.

  “I promise,” Chris said, “to do all I can to ensure that we are ready for what’s coming. It’s not merely an experiment anymore. We have to fight back.”

  That was the best way he could think of to honor the memory and the sacrifice of his friend.

  Nobody’s Fool

  Have you started the new weekly Zoo series from Michael Todd? New Soldiers of Fame and Fortune books are coming every Wednesday. Book one is Nobody’s Fool. Get started today!

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  Author Notes - Michael Anderle

  February 13, 2019

  THANK YOU for not only reading this story but these Author Notes as well.

  (I think I’ve been good with always opening with “thank you.” If not, I need to edit the other Author Notes!)

  RANDOM (sometimes) THOUGHTS?

  Here we go, the last book of the second series moving us towards a massive NEW development in the ZOO timeline while we finish the second chapter of the ZOO Genesis.

  When Lee Barbant and I were discussing these stories five months ago, we needed to figure out how to give a decent understanding of the timeline and story so I had a chance to offer fans a chance of doing something in the future for themselves.

  What is that? Well, writing their own stories.

  If you have followed the history of my publishing, you know about the Kurtherian Gambit series, and how the success (and huge fan interaction) of that series allowed me to open it up to other authors and fans writing in that universe.

  But, that universe is too big (and too entrenched) to offer much more than the Fans Write for the Fans opportunity. When I created the ZOO concept, I designed it to facilitate authors and fans writing in the ZOO without a need to know all of the stories.

  How to accomplish that idea?

  That is a very good question, which I will answer in Apocalypse Paused 07 ;-)

  HOW TO MARKET FOR BOOKS YOU LOVE

  We are able to support our efforts with you reading our books, and we appreciate you doing this!

  If you enjoyed this or ANY book by any author, especially Indie-published, we always appreciate if you make the time to review a book, since it lets other readers who might be on the fence to take a chance on it as well.

  AROUND THE WORLD IN 80 DAYS

  One of the interesting (at least to me) aspects of my life is the ability to work from anywhere and at any time. In the future, I hope to re-read my own Author Notes and remember my life as a diary entry.

  Las Vegas, NV

  Hanging in my bed (after a nap – yes, Stephen Campbell, this is a DIFFERENT Nap) I’m typing this on my old laptop. My new MacBook is charging, and I need to keep typing… (Editor’s Note: Michael, it seems as if your life is a series of naps interspersed with writing and brief adventures and/or meetings. Or am I reading these wrong?)

  That should be a song.

  “Keep typing, my unfocused son…

  the words burn brightly

  the action is mighty

  the love is intense

  the story makes no damned sense

  So… Keep typing, my unfocused son…”

  © 2019 Michael Anderle - My Unfocused Son.

  (I don’t intend to finish or publish this song. Only those few who make it to the back of this book and read these words will know the truth of my vast talent.)

  Or, you know, appreciate that I write stories and not songs.

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  HOW TO MARKET FOR BOOKS YOU LOVE

  Review them so others have your thoughts, and tell friends and the dogs of your enemies (because who wants to talk to enemies?)… Enough said ;-)

  Ad Aeternitatem,

  Michael Anderle

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  Other Zoo Books

  BIRTH OF HEAVY METAL

  He Was Not Prepared (1)

  She Is His Witness (2)

  Backstabbing Little Assets (3)

  Blood Of My Enemies (4)

  APOCALYPSE PAUSED

  Fight for Life and Death (1)

  Get Rich or Die Trying (2)

  Big Assed Global Kegger (3)

  Ambassadors and Scorpions (4)

  Nightmares From Hell (5)

  Calm Before The Storm (6)

  SOLDIERS OF FAME AND FORTUNE

  Nobody’s Fool (1)

  Nobody Lives Forever (2)

  Nobody Drinks That Much (3)

  Nobody Remembers But Us (4)

  Ghost Walking (5)

  Ghost Talking (6)

  Ghost Brawling (7)

  Ghost Stalking (8)

  Ghost Resurrection (9)

  Ghost Adaptation (10)

  Books written as Michael Anderle

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  www.lmbpn.com/ma-books/

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