Brutal Planet: A Zombie Novel

by Sean P. Murphy

  “Hey, Hammer, can zombies smell?” It took him a couple of seconds.

  “Everyone listen up.” He hissed. “No Smoking.”

  He went over to a group from Winnie One and started to talk with Paul and give directions to the others. I went over and helped Mary and some other women getting dinner ready. I still did not have everyone’s name down, and for the most part, I couldn’t tell you who was in Winnie One. Nobody really talked or looked directly at each other. We were all on edge doing what had to be done and trying to get through this day. Dinner was going to be a simple affair; cold cuts, cheese, bread, salad stuff, and lemonade, basically, anything that was perishable, since refrigeration was an issue. Liz and I ate together, a bit away from the group and discussed the day’s events.

  “Is this a dream, Liz?”

  “Jesus, John, don’t scare me! You surprised me today.”

  “Huh, how?”

  “Don’t get upset, but you are not the macho fighter type. I was proud of you out there at the gate. You know, that’s my man out there kicking some zombie butt.”

  “I guess you never noticed the stain in my crotch? Speaking of the gate, why me? Did I somehow piss Roy off?”

  “No, John, you did not piss Roy off. He’s an odd guy, the kind that only needs one look to know what he thinks of you. He put you out there, because he knew you could do the job. The fact that you did it and lived just elevated you to the next stage. I guess you’re now a zombie fighter level two.”

  “Doesn’t that mean I get a special sword or something?”

  “I think with time, we’ll find you already are in possession of a special sword.”

  “Oh, you nasty girl!” We laughed and held each other, oblivious to the world. I could not get to the islands soon enough.

  “Liz, what about today? What really happened out there? Happened to us? All of us?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t want to know.” We looked into each other’s eyes, not talking but both understanding that a line had been crossed. It was strange, because we both knew we did what we had to. We also understood there was a price to be paid for such actions. Later, we crawled to a corner and slept, spooning each other.

  Chapter 11 ~ Murder by Numbers

  May 26th

  I woke well after midnight to a strange noise. Kind of like someone pouring sand on metal. It took me a minute to figure out it was rain, lots of rain. Oh no! We still have a ton of dirt road to cover. As quietly as possible, so as not to wake Liz, I made my way outside. I waved to Norm who was up in the turret in a poncho, looking absolutely miserable. Norm is a real nice guy, mid-sixties, in shape, baldhead, and a grey beard. He was laid back and competent with his nine millimeter. Roy was standing in the small gap between the Winnie and the barn, staring at the rain. I moved up next to him. He never looked me.

  “This better stop soon or we might be screwed.” It was around this time that I realized that my right shoulder was swollen and hurt like hell, the result of not paying attention while screwing around with the gate.

  “Yeah, John, I am thinking the same thing. Mud could make getting out tomorrow a real bitch. If we were on the road, this would work to our advantage.”

  “You found a route?”

  “We found a route.”

  “Thanks, Roy. Thank you for saving my life. I hope we live long enough to become friends.”

  “You’re already my friend, John.” Roy walked back into the barn.

  And so it rained. It rained through a great breakfast. It rained through small arms training and tactics. It rained through an hour with Hammer on the proper use of a shotgun. It rained through an intimate conversation with Liz, where I almost proposed. It rained half way through lunch, and then stopped. It did give us a psychological break since all the commotion from the rain made it safer to talk and move around. The flip side is we would never see or hear them coming. Winnie One was out of service, so we couldn’t leave today anyway. We had several AM/FM radios, but nobody wanted to hear what everybody already knew, except Roy and Hammer. They spent the most time trying to understand what was going on in the world. I occasionally wandered over, but never stayed long. You didn’t need to listen, just go up to the barn loft and scan the road. The radio and the road just mirrored each other.

  After lunch, Roy called Robert, Hammer, Doc, and me, to make a survey of the situation. We knew that our only realistic way out was by the back road. To nobody’s surprise, the mud was nasty, the soil slick, and the grade just steep enough to make a run to the gate way more of an adventure than it should be.

  “What about towing them up to the road?” Robert asked, as he checked out the route with our best binoculars. “It will take some time, but…shit, nobody move,” then in a whisper, “two going by the back gate. Not looking our way.” We stayed statue still until Robert gave the all clear. All I could see was some tiny dots.

  As if nothing happened, Roy continued Roberts’ train of thought. “One at a time is too much time. Towing’s gonna make a lot of noise and be slow as shit. Good idea, but it is as it is, at least for today, we’re here. I’ll go talk with Samuel.”

  We went back to the barn. Liz and I spent most of the afternoon huddled together, exchanging small talk, nuzzling, and just enjoying that at least we had each other. I told her about Chile, volcanoes, flamingos, and about how much I wanted to take her there. Hammer spent the time with most of our group going over loading and general care of everyone’s small arms, peppered with tactics, and his unique brand of philosophy, something of a cross between Attila the Hun and an angry Mister Rogers. He knew his stuff and loved to have an audience.

  Like Liz mentioned, Matilda and Madeline (I refused to call them M&M as some others started to do) stayed by themselves; usually just talking, watching, or holding each other. What if they got separated? No one to talk with. Could I stand that kind of isolation? It reminded me of something Harlan Ellison wrote, I Have No Mouth and I Must Scream. Right now, they had each other and two big, goofy, black Labradors.

  Later on, I ran into Zack from Winnie One, and of course, we talked about zombies. About ten minutes into the conversation, without agreed upon rules, points, or anything, we started playing a quoting game. The game was based on Gorge Romero’s first three zombie movies, Night, Dawn and Day. We both agreed that any remakes and Land/Diary/Survival were out of bounds, we both had only seen them once. Points were awarded on direct quotes from the movies. We eventually decided that you got one point for each letter in the quote, and the quote had to be in context with the current situation. For instance, Zack and I went up to check out the loft, still fleshing out the rules of the game. Out of the blue, I made some inane observation about zombie movement patterns, to which he quickly responded in the immortal words of Sheriff McClelland, “Yeah, they're dead. They're all messed up.” I walked right into an easy one and Zack scored a quick thirty-one points. Matt seemed to have caught the Hollywood bug, and with Leslie, started filming our now boring yet tenuous existence.

  We got down just as Roy called another meeting. I moved over to Liz and held her hand. Paul announced to the gang that we needed motor oil, and that without it Winnie was toast. We had brought along extra, but an earlier leak, just as we were leaving, had taken care of most of that reserve. Great, where the hell are we going to get motor oil? That’s when Mary stepped forward and in a shaky voice, made an announcement.

  “Lucy has a fever just over a one hundred and three.” Everyone seemed to freeze. I was stunned and could hear myself breathing. One hundred and three? Shit, this has got to be the flu, but this isn’t flu season. Oh please, God, let it be the flu. I looked at Zack who was just staring at the floor. I noticed out of the corner of my eye that Roy was looking at me. Our eyes locked and with a small nod, and the decision was made. I would do the exam.

  “Mary, when did this start?” I said the words very slowly, in the hollow hope that maybe Lucy’s sickness has been developing for the last few days, and only now with the rain
and stress, had developed into a fever.

  “John,” she glanced around as if to generate support, “she told me she felt funny before lunch.” Ah, fuck!

  “Fever?”

  “When I first took it an hour ago, it was around one hundred. Cramps all over and her throat’s severely inflamed.”

  “Was she bit?”

  “I asked her, and she said no.”

  I looked at Roy and as from far away, heard my voice say, “We have to quarantine her and keep her isolated. If this is the virus, we will know soon enough.” Ah, shit, can I do this? Again, why me?

  “How will we know?” asked Liz. Oh, thanks, Liz, for the one question that I did not want to hear.

  “Well, we got rapid onset, high fever, sweats,” I looked to Mary and she nodded her head yes. “Inflamed throat, severe headache, nausea, general pain all over?” Again to Mary and she said yes. “There are lots of diseases that can do this. If it is the virus, she will start slightly hemorrhaging both under the skin and then from every orifice in the body; mouth, nose, eyes, and everything down below. If this happens, the blood is highly contagious, including any vomit.” John, shut the fuck up. Nice fucking question, Liz. A small group of us moved away to a corner.

  “Is there any way to be sure?” My eyes were closed and I don’t know who asked the question.

  “Well, if we could perform an ELISA or an IFA test in this fucking barn, we might have a decent clue!” Wrong answer! “Sorry, guys.”

  I looked at Zack. “What’s in the medical kit?”

  “Just the usual stuff.” Zack continued to stare at the floor as if examining something on his shoes.

  “Saline? IV?”

  “Yeah,” said Hammer.

  “Okay, get me a bag and a rig, also gloves, a mask, and Paul, I need your goggles.” Liz gave me that ‘why you?’ look. I crouched down on my heels and folded my arms on my head. I started going over what needed to be done. Oh, God, please be just the flu, please. I got up and walked over to Zack.

  “Dude, I can do this.” His voice had a weird shaky quality.

  “I know you can, Zack, but I think I know what to look for. Hey, maybe she is just sick and in a day or two, she will be better, the roads dried out, and our problems will be resolved. It will be back to the basics, just your everyday zombie apocalypse to worry about.”

  “I hope so.” Zack then went through the medical kit and gave me gloves, facemask, and the thermometer.

  “Zack, I want you to talk to the others, see if anyone else is feeling ill, anyone who has been hanging out with Lucy. Hey, man, just be discrete and low key about it, okay?”

  “No problem. Be careful with Lucy. I am already way ahead in our game and I want a legitimate victory.” Game? What the fuck.

  Hammer pulled me aside and whispered, “If she starts hemorrhaging and you are sure, you come to me first.” I just nodded and walked to the other side of the barn. Every eye was on me and I really had only a moderate clue as to what I was going to do.

  Lucy was lying on a pile of hay. She seemed to be asleep, so Hammer, Norm, and some guy from Winnie One, quickly moved a dozen bales to make a wall and give her some privacy. Her eyes popped open as I came closer, and she looked terrified. Her eyes were wide and bloodshot, her clothes soaked with sweat. She was shivering and was giving off a slightly sour odor. This was one sick lady, and I really should not be near her. She was wrapped in several of those cheap Mexican blankets loved by hippies. In fact, I had a couple in the back of the Subaru. Lucy was probably around thirty; red hair, attractive, average build, and I don’t think we had said two words to each other on our short adventure.

  “Hi. I am John. I’m in Winnie Two.”

  “Lizzy’s boyfriend?”

  “Yeah.” I kneeled next to her and tried to sound calm. “Lucy, it could be just the flu. We will get through this.”

  “You need to move. You need to get to the boats.” Her voice was barely a whisper and the shivering made her sound like her mouth was full of water.

  “We’re stuck here anyway because of the rain, okay? I was just out there. The mud won’t let the Winnies move; so you are not slowing us down and we are NOT going to leave you behind!” She nodded and gave me a little weak smile. She knew, so now I hoped she would help me.

  “All right, I just want to check a couple of things and see what we can do to get you comfortable. I would first like to take your temperature. I also want to look under your arms into your arm pits.” Okay, pay attention because everything is hot. I carefully placed the thermometer under her tongue and gently lifted her arm. Ah, shit! The lymph nodes were swollen to about the size of a chestnut, and starting to turn black. She had red rashes on her sides, something that looked like a heat or diaper rash. Her temperature was one hundred and four.

  “How does your throat feel?”

  “It hurts…it’s on fire.”

  “Have you had anything to drink lately?”

  She shook her head, no. Hammer came over with the saline and IV kit and put them next to me. He also had a broken wooden pole with a coat hanger duct taped around the top and stuck it in a bale near Lucy. “For the IV.”

  “Thanks, Hammer. Okay, Lucy, I’m going to put you on a drip and I will get you some water for your throat.” I had actually worked as a phlebotomist during the summer back in grad school, have put in IV’s, and helped out at the local clinic during the annual fall flu season, so I was comfortable around needles and knew how to do this.

  I took my time and tried to be robotic. Lucy had stopped shivering, her arm was limp, and finding the vein was easy. What wasn’t easy was the stick. Her skin was slippery and I popped the vein, she immediately began to hemorrhage under the skin. I tried again quickly before I lost the vein to the bruise or lost my cool. As I was finishing taping the needle in place, she reached out and grabbed my hand. Her grip was surprisingly strong. She looked at me and knew I was afraid. This gave her some comfort. Just then, she had a coughing fit. I jumped back, unsure if she had sprayed me and quickly started a detailed examination of my clothes. He coughing seemed to bring her around. When I looked up, she was watching me with watery blood-shot eyes and a sad smile.

  “Do not let me come back.” It was an order not a plea.

  It took me a second, but I stammered, “Lucy, we don’t know what we are dealing with here. It really could be the flu.”

  Tears were pouring down her cheek. “John, don’t play cards, you would suck.”

  The rest of the group had left me alone with Lucy and congregated on the other side of the barn. I don’t blame them. I used sterile technique to remove gloves and took the mask off.

  I went to them and with a quiet voice said, “I would like to speak with Roy and Hammer in private please. No one goes near Lucy but me, okay?” I went inside Winnie Two, and the two quickly joined me.

  “Guys, I am not a doctor. I did screw around with hemorrhagic fever when I was young and worked for the government. It’s…this is all…happening too fast. She doesn’t appear to have any trauma, so this is very rare. I’ve never seen anyone with an actual pulmonary infection, just the stuff on the internet. Yes or no? I think she has the virus.”

  No one said a word.

  “We should wait for the bleeding and some other symptoms to start; this will be somewhat diagnostic, we have got to be absolutely sure.” I grabbed someone’s bottle of water and took a huge swig.

  “Her underarm lymph nodes are swollen and turning black. That is not a sign of the flu, but most likely a sign of this virus. This is not your straight up run of the mill hemorrhagic fever.” I sat down and put my head in my hands. “She’s in a lot of pain and I have no idea how long this will last.” The world was swirling around me. I have to do this.

  “Think!”

  “Roy, the odds are, and this is my best guess, she is infected.”

  Roy paced back and forth slamming his hand into his fist.

  “She’s at a hundred and four, dehydrated, we have no I
V or saline, and this only started a couple of hours ago!” I stood up and needed to burn some unexpected energy.

  “Listen, when this whole thing started, there was a lot of internet chatter about some strange zombies. The Asian bloggers were reporting a small percent of the infected showed no obvious signs of trauma. Some PhD in Easter Russia gave an estimate of five percent. The mode of infection was never determined, airborne? Body fluids? Unusual fevers were reported and I think everyone has seen ‘the Seoul woman’ video. A young beautiful naked woman slowly walking on a street in downtown Seoul, South Korea. It was so well filmed that it looks like an ad for some new perfume or something, that is until the camera pans to her front and you see the thin trails of dried blood coming from her eyes. Her inner thighs were coated with blood and feces. She just stumbles along, oblivious. You know something is wrong with her, Blind? Deaf? Both? I have watched it several dozen times and the only thing I am sure about the woman, is that she is a zombie. Boy, did I need to get some air.

  “We all know how this is going to end. What we don’t know is how long this is going to take.” Everyone looked at me and no one said a word, so I proceeded. “If it progresses and we are sure…do we have any narcotics in the medical kit?”

  “I’ll look,” said Hammer, and he left.

  “Roy, what if she starts screaming in pain? Goes crazy? We have to have a plan. I am going to take her some water. She came in yesterday morning with someone, right?”

  “Yeah, Jim.”

  “You might want to talk with him.” I left to re-gown and get her some water. As I walked away, I heard Roy call Jim over to him. The fog descending over me was intense and settling in. I had a mission, and it was in all probability to kill a member of our team.