George's Terms: A Zombie Novel (Z Is For Zombie Book 1)

by catt dahman

  Doc sat down, weary. “The girl, Tina, is going to lose the foot; the ankle is too shattered, and the lawyer Bart who came in with the crushed hand, he’s gonna lose it.”

  “Can you do that surgery?”

  “Well, we can do it. But can we do it without an anesthetist?”

  “Oh, God,” Len groaned.

  “Sally and I plan to tell each one the bottom line. We’ll let you know what we decide, but it will be tomorrow morning if we do this.”

  “Wanda has the children settled, and they are starting school tomorrow. Some of us have moved to the other hallway to give more room,” Roy said.

  “Okay.” Len knew the ones who had moved were those who always had their heads close to Roy, planning and watching. So far, they all did their part, but the division was still clear in military-type and Roy-type.

  Beth spent time with Katie and the others she was friends with.

  Conner gave Len a lay out of the ground floor of the hotel. He was interested in the restaurant that served the hotel, one that Conner wished he had the right people to get there and loot. “I suspect they have a lot of food there.”

  “I hate the sound of dealing with so many zeds, but the food is needed to hold us over here longer.”

  Thinking about a dozen to a hundred zeds were daunting, but they had good teams, and with the location so near the hospital, it was a matter of time before they faced the walking dead anyway.

  Len saw Paul and Donna walk by, arguing as usual. He had a lot to think about.

  Near his room, he saw Bridget, she of the heavy make-up, perfumes, and fancy hair. They had exchanged maybe a dozen words since she was most often hanging around Roy. He wondered what she wanted.

  Bridget smiled and slipped into his arms. Closing his door, he had his answer.

  23

  Battles

  “Shhh, don’t tell Jules I’m here. Sally released me, but I have to take it easy, and I promised to watch more than taking part.” Chauncey grinned as he joined his team. “Sore and all, but I can do this.”

  “Same orders I got.” Julia popped up from the floor where she was checking her backpack. She waved at Chauncey.

  He laughed and ‘high-fived’ her.

  “Both of you hang back, and don’t get anyone killed while you are trying to do more than you can,” Len ordered.

  “Alpha and Delta will go in to the left where the doors are and where it should be heavy in zeds. Charlie, you take forward, and Bravo watches our ass and takes right.”

  They all slid through the cracked wall to the stairwell, then down to the ground floor, exploding out in teams.

  The teams moved into place and began firing as soon as they were through the doors; the smell hit them as several dozen zeds began moaning and moving towards them.

  It escaped no one that if he were not armed and shooting, the creatures would easily pin him, ripping him to shreds. Several, despite being busy themselves, turned to glance back as they heard unfamiliar shouts and gunfire from the side of the hotel. Len motioned Charlie team to check it out.

  Down the way seemed to be where the restaurant was, plus conference rooms and a hotel bar. Charlie team began clearing out the zeds that approached, with Chauncey covering the back, if needed.

  Without warning, they were in the middle of the moaning and infected already inside and a group of people being over-taken by zeds, coming in from a side entrance.

  “Stay on targets,” Kim ordered. As much as they needed backup, the other three teams were neck deep in their own hordes.

  The smell was enough almost to knock them over, but the Reds and shambling dead, bodies torn, infected with nasty, thick pus, covered in dried blood, urine, vomit, and trailing open intestines, came at them. They hissed, moaned, and groaned with ropey, slimy saliva dripping from their filthy chins.

  The group, who shot back and used baseball bats for melee weapons, was losing. It looked as if they were out of bullets now.

  A woman screamed as she slapped hands away, but the creatures tore at her arms, pinning her down and darting forward to rip at her neck and face. Her eyes and cheeks, then nose and lips disappeared into filthy maws, painting them all in fresh crimson. She gurgled. Fingers cracked off, torn from her hands.

  A man, trying to help her, fell to a half dozen zeds that ripped at his neck and shoulders. He beat at them, smashing brains to a pulp, spewing gore into his own wounds.

  The five remaining on their feet used bats and pipes to bash those between their group and Charlie team. Two were wounded and splashing blood all over.

  Kim, Big Bill, George, and Beth, kept firing but the close quarters and lurching moaners were backing them against the wall quickly. The newcomers made it harder to take clean shots.

  “Bar, behind you,” Kim yelled to them. As soon as they ducked into the bar, he and Big Bill covered the rest while they ran into the darkness and then followed, slamming the doors. Quickly, they shoved furniture into place to block the doors. Chauncey got lamps and candles lit in seconds, so they had a warm glow to assess damages.

  “My. God, how many followed you?”

  “Maybe fifty.” They introduced themselves, thanking Charlie team for the help. “We’d be dead but for you guys.”

  “You looked as if you were in trouble.”

  “Bad trouble.”

  “You all alone?”

  “We had ten then; we would have all died if Jeff hadn’t gotten us here.”

  Jeff, filthy in faded jeans and a shirt covered in dried blood, looked a bit under twenty, but he was obviously the leader, with long, lean muscles and glasses that made him look to be a smart jock. “Ran out of ammo.”

  “Jeff taught us to fight. He kept us together as we found food and other items. He kept us moving forward.”

  “I just did what I had seen in the movies and in my video games,” he said shyly. “I always played zombie-killing games.”

  “Guess it came in handy.”

  Kim turned back to the group. “Base and other teams have been advised we are okay here. We need to clear the room.”

  In seconds, they did a quick search and found themselves safe and alone in the bar. One of the women was bitten, her arm torn to the bone, already deep purple and dripping blood with red and greenish streaks running down her hand and up to her shoulder. She grimaced and moaned with the pain, wrapping it in a bar towel. Johnny handed her a strip of duct tape to hold the towel in place.

  The other victim was her husband, and he was bitten on the hand, his pinky stump bleeding. They wrapped his wound in a towel and taped it in place.

  “Jeez, this is bad,” Jeff looked at their wounds, catching Kim’s eye, “looks as if you guys are well outfitted.”

  “US Militia. We are the remains of the US military. We can offer you a stopping place, or you may join us as ‘civvies’ or part of the militia. Our new jobs are doing rescue mission,” Kim said. “Kimball Decker, US Militia,” he hardly stumbled on his new title.

  “I wish we had met a bit sooner then,” the wounded man said sadly, “but glad you guys are still trying to protect our Country.”

  “So are we. Wish we had found you sooner. We have supplies, food, doctors, but…”

  The man nodded. “I don’t suspect you suddenly found a miracle cure, huh?” he hugged his wife.

  “Awe, man,” the second man said. Earl, in his thirties, tall and lean, was in jeans, a wife-beater shirt, boots, and a ball cap. “Isn’t there something you can do with doctors?”

  “Afraid not. We understand there is no cure for Reds or for anyone once he has been bitten. Everyone turns into a zed. Sorry…I really am sorry,” Kim said, looking to George.

  “A bite or scratch that is infected with the saliva will infect whoever has the bite or scratch. Unfortunately, we’ve seen it personally and not just heard gossip…lost a few friends that way. We sure wish we could have found you sooner and helped so you wouldn’t have gotten bitten or have lost your friends.”

  �
�This is really bad for us,” Jeff said, “we’ve been on the run, and now this. What can we do for them?”

  “I wish we could do something, but there isn’t anything that will help. I’m sorry,” George said. “But I’ve sat with some who were bad sick; you’ll start feeling numb and feverish. I imagine you’re in a lot of pain.”

  “Already feeling that,” the man said, his wife nodding and crying as well. “We don’t have long, do we?”

  “No. Again, I’m awful sorry. You can wait and…well…you know, but I understand it gets painful and all. Or you can use what I call my terms…’George’s Terms’…you can go out your own way.”

  Beth and Johnny sat several bottles up on the bar with shot glasses. Beth poured for each, pouring into a larger glass for the man and woman who were injured. Big Bill claimed he never drank alcohol, but with his eyes on the couple, he took one shot of rum. Then a second shot.

  Outside, the moaners beat on the doors occasionally, shambling around, looking for a way in. From the other areas, shots were heard. Len had reported that all teams were fine and uninjured.

  Chauncey told them he had found an empty storage room; he looked pointedly at the couple. In a bit, the man stood and shook hands with his friends, and they patted the woman on her back. “I think it’s time we went to sleep, honey,” the man said. They had children at college who had called a few days before, saying they had Red and were really ill. They had lost heart, knowing their children were gone.

  With an apologetic shrug, the man explained to them that they were Catholic, and Kim nodded.

  Kim felt like an angel of death.

  George shook their hand, “My terms say we help friends ‘go gently into the good night’,” he misquoted, smiling kindly.

  The other woman, Angie, wept into her hands. Johnny pulled her aside to talk to her quietly.

  “You guys be safe and give ‘em hell,” the man said. “Earl, you learn some new jokes and stop being such a redneck.” They laughed. “Jeff…like I said…you’re young but a smart dude and a born leader. Help these good folks all you can. Angie, it’s been an honor; you’re a good one for sure.” He was bleeding heavily now, and his face flushed with fever. Already the bites were pus-filled and going green, smelling like evil.

  He saluted. He and his wife, along with George and Kim, walked into the room, closing the door behind them. No one envied Kim and George the task.

  “Can I pour a drink for you all again?” Beth offered. “I hate this.”

  “Not as much as we do.” Jeff sighed. He upended a shot. “Do you have a large group? I mean the radio thing…”

  “Over a hundred. We are one of four teams who do search and rescue.”

  “Impressive. We really would have all died if not for you guys.”

  Beth nodded. “What you don’t know, is that if you had made it past that hall and if we had not, and if they had kept coming, you would have run into at least a hundred on the other side.”

  “A hundred more?” Jeff gulped.

  “Give or take a few; our friends are clearing them out and will be over here to get us all out.”

  “Are you sure? I mean…a hundred?”

  “Piece of cake,” Beth said, “they can handle it.”

  “I don’t know. If this had happened without you guys showing up, well, I’m out of bullets, and I can’t hit them in the head; damn, I’m glad we found you all.”

  “Seems as if we could take the alcohol out of here, too.” Chauncey said, looking over the bar. It was decorated in burgundy and shades of blue with an ocean theme: pictures and nets, shells, oars, and other sea-related pieces.

  “Maybe keep it in a locked room; we don’t need a bunch of drunks around guns,” Johnny noted, “or give it all to Sally and Doc as medicine.”

  “That’s smart,” Beth agreed. Her eyes darted again to the closed closet door. She got her radio, “Base, This is Charlie team. Over.”

  “Base here, Charlie. Go ahead. Over.”

  “We will be bringing in three survivors, adults, all uninjured. We’ll need intake. Over.”

  “Copy three adult survivors coming in with you. We’ll have Doc or Sally standing by when we have an ETA. Over.”

  “Charlie out.”

  “What’s your base camp like?” Jeff wanted to talk.

  Beth shrugged, “We’re in the hospital area…basement. We have a cafeteria with food and water, military supplies, a teacher for the kids, teams and a base for missions, and two doctors.”

  “That sounds like paradise right now,” Jeff said.

  “Were you military, too?” Earl asked Beth.

  “I wasn’t. I was recruited. We have some who are, and they train teams to do this. So far, we’ve done pretty well finding survivors,” Beth said. “If I weren’t doing this, I would go crazy sitting around, knowing those things were out there.”

  “We were in a house a while, but we got hungry, and those things kept coming around, making a crowd around us,” Earl said.

  They jumped as two shots went off at almost the same time.

  Kim and George came back and accepted shots of rum.

  Kim took a call from Len, and they sat, waiting. Their friends were headed that way.

  In the hallway was a barrage of shots for several minutes. “You all okay?” Len beat on the doors. They moved everything that was piled up to let them in.

  In a few minutes, the far doors were well blocked, and nothing could get into the hotel. Several accepted a shot of whiskey or rum.

  “Hairy out there?”

  Len said it was. He met the three survivors and gave condolences on the losses. “While you all relaxed in here with the booze, I thought those bastards would never stop coming; they just poured in.”

  “That’s how it was here, too,” Kim said. “But if we had fifty thousand in the area, ten thousand with Red, maybe ten still okay, thirty thousand are where?”

  “Out there, maybe twenty with Red, so thirty left, and we have seen less than five hundred healthy and unturned, so we have maybe what? Maybe a quarter are okay and hiding still; eight thousand, the rest are zeds who are gathering in hordes, or people who are dead or walking dead from the blast.”

  “You think we have eight thousand out there? Alive?”

  “Maybe,” George said, “no meds, accidents, age...old and too young…and you have less, seven thousand, maybe. Out on farms, in houses and buildings, some in groups in places where there is food; maybe that is right now.”

  “In a month, the zeds and disease, accidents and other bad situations, will take all but maybe five hundred. I’m guessing. Of those…raiders…people who are unarmed…in two months, I’m saying maybe fifty at best.”

  “We have more than that,” Kim said.

  “We may do better while other places will have none; make it out of fifty thousand. It evens out. But I think we are out-numbered.”

  Bryan took a second shot, savoring the burn of the rum. “Fifty against forty-nine hundred. Wow, gotta love those odds.”

  “That’s why when we can, we ditch the city and go out to the country to find a place,” Len said. “I didn’t say it was easy.”

  “They said you’re the man to see about this military,” Earl said. “I wanna be part and not a victim waiting. I can shoot, just don’t gotta gun.”

  “You will have one.” Len shook his hand. “Jeff?”

  “Count me in.”

  “Good, we can use someone who’s survived out there and led people.” Len shook his hand, too.

  “This is Angie.” Johnny brought her over. “She’s pretty blue about losing two good friends; they lost quite a few.”

  “I’ll do whatever you need me to do to help out,” Angie promised. “I have shot a gun before, but I’m no expert, don’t love guns, but I can swing a bat and kill those bastards that way, if you want.”

  “We like anyone who can use a melee weapon, and at times, we fire axes and pipes, whatever works. We’d love to add you and the rest to team
s. We need a few more to get eight to a team,” Len told her.

  He turned to the radio. “Base, this is Alpha Actual. Over.”

  “Alpha Actual, we read you. Over.”

  “Base, we request supply teams for the food and alcohol. We will be guarding with two teams and helping with the other two. We, also, will be sending three survivors to you for intake. Over.”

  “Alpha Actual, we copy: you are sending supply teams, and we will be in-taking three survivors. Over.”

  “Base. Alcohol needs to go to Sally and Doc. Over.”

  “Copy that. Alcohol to doctors, over,” Dallas barked in the background.

  “Alpha Actual out.”

  Jeff grinned for the first time. “You have a dog?”

  “Yep, he belongs to Benny, the radio operator, at Base Actual.”

  “Food, beds, safety, and a dog.” Earl sighed.

  “Alpha and Charlie on guard duty, we’ll take the other side; you take this side. Other teams help with supplies; Julia and Johnny, please escort Earl, Jeff, and Angie to Base Camp for Sally and Doc.”

  “On the way, Colonel,” Julia said as she and Johnny led the way for the new comers. From the bar, the others began to box the alcohol and cheered as they found huge boxes of bagged peanuts and fresh fruit.

  Beth inhaled a lime as she packed it up. In another few days, fresh fruit and veggies would be just a memory.

  It was late when all the food was stripped from the restaurant’s kitchen and the bar was emptied. They also found that the hotel had served breakfast, so they found cereal, coffee, and much more. The kitchen detail made a party-like meal to celebrate the newcomers of the last few days, and Len okayed some of the alcohol being served as well.

  They ate creamy chicken pasta, beans and corn, cheesy rice with vegetables, and a variety of pies for dessert. To everyone’s surprise, the children had made colorful paper chains and paper Chinese lanterns which were hung as party decorations. Cheering, they all made a big to-do over what the children had done, and all the little ones grinned.