Zombie Crusade Snapshots: Volume I

by J. W. Vohs

  “Yes, sir,” the tough old sergeant firmly declared. “We took pictures of the entire scene if you’d like to see them. Word from Dietrick yesterday was that several officers who brought in their families for inoculation without permission have seen them survive attacks off-base. The vaccine works, President Brocktin.”

  General Barnes moved next to his subordinate and shared a long glance with the president before adding, “We’re not necessarily arguing that this vaccine should be mass-produced yet, or even forced on anyone who doesn’t want it. But I, for one, believe absolutely in its efficacy. I’d be willing to be deliberately bitten by one of the infected to prove it, sir.”

  Brocktin shook his head forcefully, “No, General Barnes, that won’t be necessary. In such unprecedented circumstances we need to take immediate and drastic action if there’s even a chance that we have a vaccine available. I take it that this information has been shared with the CDC?”

  Barnes nodded toward his master sergeant and answered, “Peterson just arrived from Atlanta an hour ago. Nobody down there has inoculated themselves yet, at least that we know of, but they are studying the vaccine and the records of our research. To his credit, Peterson brought enough vaccine with him to inoculate the entire population here at Raven Rock, and with the breakdown of reliable communication, we may need to proceed on our own here at some point. Whatever you decide, sir, Peterson and I will guard the vaccine with our lives.”

  The president nodded. “Hopefully we’ll hear from the CDC in a day or two. I want our labs mass producing this vaccine as quickly as possible. We’ll offer it to the troops as soon as samples become available.”

  The Secretary of Defense interrupted, “Excuse me, President Brocktin, but we can’t move forward with this without more testing. There could be a hundred reasons why Sergeant Peterson wasn’t infected from his bite, and we have no confirmation of the cases at Fort Dietrick that he mentioned. The side effects of this vaccine could end up being as deadly as the infection itself.”

  Brocktin again held up a hand to silence his advisor, “Bob, in the entire history of the world we’ve never seen anything like this. We are looking at a national population decline of over ninety-five percent within three months, as well as a complete collapse of all systems that support the well-being of those who do survive the spread of the virus. Hell, within a year most of those who avoid being infected are likely to starve to death or die of infections modern antibiotics could easily stop. We could be looking at a dark age that hasn’t been experienced since the dawn of civilization.” The president then took a brief look around the room; there was fire in his eyes as he nearly shouted, “If mankind does somehow survive, I won’t have the history books saying that we had a vaccine but wouldn’t use it because I felt that we had to wait for more testing!” The beleaguered chief executive slowly leaned forward and rested his head in his hands, his shoulders wearily slumping. “Everyone out of the room right now. I want everyone out except for General Barnes.”

  The Secretary of Defense loudly protested, “Mister President, this is not exactly a good time to be holding private conversations about domestic policy with a low-ranking general who DOES NOT have the respect nor approval of his superior officers present at this meeting.”

  The rest of the generals and most of the staff and cabinet members nodded their agreement as the president rose to his feet and stared down the secretary for at least half a minute before firmly declaring, “I’m the President of the United States of America; I’ll have any conversation with anyone I want to at any time if I believe the effort to be in the best interests of the people of this nation. I assure you, however, that I will take no official action, nor issue any orders without consulting with all of you first. Now leave, please.”

  The chastened secretary stood up and turned to the door without another word; everyone else in the room followed his lead and exited as quickly as possible. The moment they were gone the president closed the door and asked Barnes to sit down directly across the table.

  “General, you’ve been right about everything since you came aboard last week. At this point you and your people at USAMRIID appear to know more about this virus and the infected than any other organization in the world. I want you to know that I’m impressed. But I didn’t ask to speak with you in private in order to offer congratulations; I want to talk to you man to man about this vaccine of yours and what we might do with it.”

  Barnes nodded solemnly, a bit surprised with the effectiveness of his own acting ability as he humbly responded, “Go ahead, sir.”

  The president’s cheeks momentarily puffed with air before he released a long sigh. He peered intently into the general’s eyes and asked, “How certain are you about the effectiveness of this vaccine?”

  “I took it myself, sir, and more importantly, I encouraged the soldiers under my command to be inoculated. I can’t guarantee you that it works one hundred percent of the time, and I damn sure can’t promise you that there won’t be unpleasant side effects for some people. But I do believe that the vaccine will prevent almost every person who’s been inoculated from being infected if they are bitten.”

  Brocktin nodded in agreement, “I think you and your team managed to pull off one of the great medical miracles in history, General Barnes. I am going to have you inoculate me and my family; we’ll record the procedure and show it to my staff when I argue for gradual distribution to the troops. How many vaccines do you have prepared at Fort Dietrick?”

  “Our goal is two thousand vaccines a day, sir, but I don’t know if we’re managing to make that many. We might want to consider sending a Special Forces team into one of the big pharmaceutical production facilities on the east coast. After they clear the building they could set up a defensive perimeter while we begin mass-production of the vaccine. Of course, that could all be wishful thinking; I can’t think of a place off the top of my head that’s not in or near a large urban area. The bottom line is that for now we’ll have to assume that all we have to work with is about nine thousand vaccines and another two thousand becoming available every day.” He hesitated. “May I speak freely, sir?”

  The president reached out and put a hand on the general’s shoulder. “Understand that you can tell me anything.”

  “We can’t be absolutely certain that this place is infection free. Obviously, Peterson wasn’t checked for bite wounds when he arrived—I know I wasn’t checked, and I suspect that no one here has been. I don’t think it’s possible to be overly cautious right now, so I would recommend that all but a small security force be restricted to quarters. Peterson and I can make the rounds, do quick inspections, and verify that the facility is secure.”

  “We should have thought of that, General. Once again, you seem to have a better grasp of this situation than the rest of us.”

  Barnes cleared his throat nervously. “One more thing, Mister President. For all our sakes, you have to be the most protected man in America right now, and your family must be safe as well. I think you should wait on the immunizations; I don’t think you should take the risk of developing potential complications with you or your loved ones.”

  Brocktin shook his head. “Now here is where we disagree, General Barnes. I can’t ask the people who look to me for leadership to take this vaccine if I have any reservations about taking it myself or giving it to my family. I appreciate your concern, but we are going to do this. Now, I will order everyone to stay in their quarters until you or your Sergeant Peterson have verified their status as infection free. Have Peterson start with my secret service—they won’t like leaving me unattended for any length of time. As for you . . .” the president lowered his voice, “How soon can you meet me in my quarters with four vaccines?”

  * * *

  By nightfall every single officer at Raven Rock had been inoculated by Barnes and Peterson, as well as all but a handful of enlisted personnel and civilians who were occupying the facility. Once President Brocktin had demonstrated the level of his
commitment to the vaccine, none of his staff members would do anything less than their boss and his family had done. The junior officers and NCOs were anxious to follow suit, so Peterson and Barnes ended up immunizing each individual as part of their protocol to ensure that the facility was and would remain infection-free. The vast majority of the people at Raven Rock felt privileged to be offered an opportunity to be inoculated in the same manner as the president and his family, so they willingly and patiently awaited their appointment with the needle.

  It was nearly midnight before Barnes and Peterson found time to share a late dinner of field rations in the cafeteria. Just as they sat down, President Brocktin’s Chief of Staff showed up at their table with a flushed face and sweat pouring from his brow. “General Barnes, the president and his family are all feverish and vomiting. I’m getting sick too, and most of the generals and cabinet members are resting in their rooms. President Brocktin wanted me to ask you if this was normal, or if they should be concerned?”

  Barnes sipped his coffee and grimaced as the bitterness of the “instant” beverage hit his palate. He wiped his lips with a cloth napkin and looked at the aide with calm concern. “Actually, these reactions are normal for most people, and will pass within six to twelve hours. Please tell the president to try to get some sleep tonight, and I promise he’ll feel better in the morning.”

  As the nearly swooning chief of staff hurried away to report to the president, Peterson squinted at his commander. “They’ll be better in the morning, all right. How did you find time for acting lessons while earning your medical degree?”

  The General took another sip of his coffee after adding a prodigious amount of powdered creamer, then he smacked his lips in satisfaction before answering, “Honestly, Sergeant Peterson, I’ve just always been a natural when it comes to convincing people of things that aren’t necessarily true. And Mark Twain was correct when he said that it’s easier to fool people than to convince them that they’ve been fooled. Once they buy in, once you hook them, they will believe just about anything. For my part, I simply enjoy immersing myself in whatever role I’m playing.”

  Peterson tried to conceal his laughter, even though he figured that by now everyone in the facility was too sick to note his socially inappropriate behavior. “I didn’t do too badly myself this morning. Did I tell you that I had to order Sergeant Lucas to bite my arm? I tried to do it myself but I couldn’t break the skin before the pain stopped me. It was almost involuntary, you know? Part of my brain was trying to do it, but some other part kept interfering. The angle would have been wrong anyway.” He looked thoughtful as he took several long drinks from his styrofoam cup. “I’ll tell you what though, the people out there getting eaten lately are not dying easy deaths.”

  Barnes narrowed his eyes. There was an edge to his voice when he said, “Sometimes you worry me, Peterson. Don’t go soft on me. And don’t be stupid. How could you be so sure Lucas wasn’t infected?”

  “He’d been with me for over a week. He didn’t leave my sight that entire time—I mean, literally, I followed the man into the restroom and made him sleep next to me. He was fine with it though; he has a wife and three little kids, and he’ll do whatever it takes to keep them safe.”

  The General lit up a cigar and leaned back in his chair. He looked around the dining area and wasn’t surprised by the fact that he and Peterson were completely alone. “It’s always the same story, Sergeant, soldiers will do almost anything to protect their families and one another. Police officers will too, but we don’t need them on this mission. The pilots and troops we have in place will follow the orders we give them, whether they like it or not. I mean, if anyone even thinks about rebelling, we’ll make an example of them that nobody will ever forget. Everyone else will fall in line. In fact, we might need to manufacture some disobedience just to get the message out.”

  Peterson waved away the small cloud of smoke drifting across the table before grimly asking, “You sure we’re doing the right thing?”

  Barnes actually looked shocked for a moment, “You having second thoughts?”

  “No, sir, it’s just one thing to talk about it and plan for it, and quite another to watch it happen. When we infected that village in Afghanistan, it was easy enough to accept that those people were enemies, or at least expendable for our research. Sometimes I wonder if we could have conducted a more controlled release of the virus.”

  The general smiled indulgently, “That virus is wildfire, Sergeant. You know as well as I do that we aren’t sure what the end result will be as it interacts with the human species. The bottom line is that a societal collapse in the next few decades was inevitable, and when all is said and done we’ve probably saved mankind from a new dark age, if not outright extinction. There’s always been lords and land, always, and I think we’ll find it’s better being lords than working the land. We eventually would have seen the world burn in nuclear fire, or starve to death after degrading the environment, or succumb to a plague like that of the fourteenth century . . . something was going to destroy modern culture and its parasites. Those of us with vision could clearly see it coming. All we’ve done is conduct a proactive burn rather than wait for lightning to set the world afire.”

  Peterson nodded, “Yeah, I guess it’s been kind of easy to lose sight of the overall purpose of this thing while I’ve been out in the field. Don’t get me wrong, the deaths don’t bother me, just some of the destruction. We’re gonna have to do a lot of rebuilding.”

  “We are,” Barnes agreed, “but with the network we’ve assembled, we can afford it. Besides, building materials and labor will be readily available soon enough. As my dad always said on his remodeling jobs, ‘you gotta have destruction before you can have construction.’ And we’re not just remodeling, we’re wiping the slate clean and starting with our own, brand new foundation.”

  “That’s definitely one way to look at this situation,” Peterson mused.

  Barnes watched a smoke-ring float away before pointing his cigar toward his partner in crime and reminding him, “My dad was a contractor, and yours worked at a Buick plant, and now we’ve ended up in the inner circle of the most powerful men in the world. Over the past few decades we’ve seen behind the smoke and mirrors; and we’ve become THE key players in deciding the fate of humanity. Right now, it’s just you and me. No one else knows how this is playing out. Our friends will have to fall in line. We’re going to rule a continent, hell, we might even have the globe under our control before we’re finished with this war.”

  Peterson looked distracted as he stared at the ceiling and considered the perks of his new job. In the coming weeks and months all the riches of the world would be up for grabs, and he would be one of the select few in position to gather them up. Land, gold, women . . . all would be his for the taking.

  Finally his reverie was interrupted as General Barnes asked, “Do you know what the difference between Alexander the Great and Hitler was?”

  Peterson sighed in expectation of another one of Barnes’ lectures on the finer points of military history. He leaned back in his chair and unenthusiastically asked, “What?”

  Barnes smiled wickedly and briefly explained, “Alexander won.”

  “Yeah, I know the whole ‘history is written by the victors’ thing, but are the only influential victors of history unstable, ruthless assholes?” Peterson mused.

  Barnes retorted, “The difference between a monster and a hero is a very thin line.” He glared at Peterson for a moment. “And I’m sure you weren’t meaning to intend anything personal.”

  Peterson chuckled and observed, “You’re not usually so touchy—“ His attention was diverted by someone walking past the cafeteria door. “Check it out, sir, that’s General Anderson and he’s infected!”

  Barnes turned around and saw all the classic signs of a person destroyed and resurrected by the virus. “Couldn’t have happened to a finer man,” he cracked. “You know the drill; load up and stay alert.”

&nb
sp; Peterson nodded. “Time to move on to Phase Two . . .”

  * * *

  Ten minutes later the two traitors had taken up viewing positions inside of the command center where they could look through massive glass panels to a common area that was beginning to fill with zombies. Both soldiers had fought and killed the infected before, so they knew how to attract and dispatch the creatures with little danger to themselves. The only problem was that they needed to shoot the president and his main advisors in a way that didn’t mar their faces since they were planning to use pictures of the dead leaders to convince American survivors that the federal government was definitely gone.

  Peterson used his service-Beretta to shoot holes through the glass and attract the infected with the noise. As the flesh-eaters drew closer, he and Barnes began picking them off with careful shots. The general used a match grade .22 pistol while his master sergeant employed low-grade nine millimeter rounds to put down the zombies. Within half an hour more than fifty corpses littered the commons, including the vice-president and most of the joint chiefs. The president and his secretary of defense were missing though, and after photographing the leading officials now lying dead on the floor the turncoats knew they would have to go looking for them.

  Raven Rock was full of individual rooms and meeting chambers, all connected by narrow hallways that made both men nervous as they moved toward the president’s rooms. As they passed the officers’ quarters they could hear scratching and moaning from inside. When they reached the defense secretary’s quarters, Peterson turned the knob and tried to open the door. He had to push violently to dislodge the creature leaning on the other side; after knocking the infected general to the floor, Barnes quickly scrambled its brains with a .22 round. They took several photos with a cell phone and resumed their march to the president’s chambers.