Brutal Planet: A Zombie Novel

by Sean P. Murphy

  “Let’s get the hell out of here!”

  “Roger that!”

  We started trotting, firing, and just being alive. The Winnie gave us some cover but rapidly got ahead. I have no clue why they were not staying with us. I was getting out of breath and my shoulder was killing me. To drop to one knee meant stopping, so I didn’t and my accuracy dramatically plunged. It might be the adrenalin hitting me yet again or exhaustion or maybe this is really it, time to shine elsewhere, but suddenly, everything seemed to project a weird light. It was like twilight during the middle of a sunny day. Time slowed down and I was in this dream world. Calm and concentrated, but aloof. I should be terrified, but I wasn’t. My shoulder no longer hurt. I didn’t want to die, but if I did that would be okay. I don't know how many I re-killed, but I started to put them down with ease. We were very lucky that, they tend to scream when attacking, because it alerts you as to where you are going to shoot. I had no clue where we were going, since the Winnie got out of view. I just followed Robert and assumed we were heading to the now visible ocean in front of us. I kept expecting a mob around every corner, but there wasn’t. There was one guy who looked just like my high school math teacher; I can’t quite describe it, but he didn’t run like the rest. It looked for a second that he was running from the zombies, but I still blew him away. While I was in this strange high, it was easy just to shoot at anything that moves without really checking your targets, and I wonder maybe, just maybe...

  God, had my attitude changed. Maybe this is what a runner’s high is like. I really wanted to kill zombies. I was calm and called out my targets. I was in the zone, totally in the moment. I even somehow knew how many rounds I had. Robert knew I would let them get closer than he would, but I never missed, always counted and never passed up an opportunity to reload. We got lucky in that, more than five at a time never swarmed us, and we constantly communicated.

  “I got two southeast by the gas pumps.”

  “They’re yours. One from north, mine.”

  “Five, Six, Seven, Shit! Reloading.” I yelled.

  “Let them get closer if it will save you a shot.”

  “I get the plan, Robert, Alleyway West. I made the meeting. I read the memo. Don’t worry, I think I am down to slugs after this set.”

  We just walked, stayed together, and killed everything that moved. That included a stray Germen Sheppard who almost ran into Robert. At one point, I actually laughed when I nailed some dude in the abdomen. The shot must have severed the spinal cord because he went down hard and the legs stopped moving. The guy did not try to crawl to me, or even look my way, he just lay there and pounded the asphalt as if he was pissed off that he missed his chance. Then, there it was, not a mirage, but there was the harbor. All that separated us from the dock and an incredibly unlikely stroll was a large half-filled parking lot. No fence, just a guardrail and from what I could see, almost no zombies. My God, we made it.

  “Robert, what the hell did we just do?”

  “We stayed breathing, John. That’s all we did.”

  “Ah…I think and I could be wrong, but since they make sounds, I believe zombies also breathe.” I kept anxiously glancing back and forth.

  “Ah, John…Just shut the fuck up. You know, Professor, ever since I met you, I have been using more and more profanity. Why is that?”

  “Fuck if I know.”

  When we casually strolled into the marina, I had only a tenuous contact with reality and thought we were studs. No one would be able to comprehend how we could have possibly survived and that included Robert and me, but something was wrong. People weren’t loading boats, but hiding around the Winnies in a defensive position. Doc gave us the news. They had been ambushed. Some sort of militia hit them a minute of two after arriving. Mostly small arms fire.

  “We were a bit suspicious when there were only dead zombies in the harbor parking lot, way too quiet. Once we got out of the Winnie, they opened up. No hands up, no call for surrender, nothing. We got lucky. I don’t think they had it planned all that well, everyone in one building. Well, Hammer always said you never take a handgun to an automatic weapons party.”

  “Same guys from up the road?” I asked.

  “More than likely, they could be back. Norm died before the attack, Matilda during. Where the hell is Roy and Hammer?”

  “No one knows. What about the boats?”

  “You mean boat, single boat.”

  Robert looked about. “Well, even a blind pig finds an apple every now and then, she’s mine.” What are fucking odds that of the few boats left, one would be Robert’s? It helped that he was anchored the furthest out.

  “Let’s clean out the Winnie and get what we can on the dock. Make a defensive position. I’ll go get her.” With that, Robert took off in a sprint, now all energized at getting his lady back.

  Tim and Derrick gently led Madeline to the dock. Mary, Doc, Zack, Matt and I, made a semi-circular perimeter around the Winnie. Tim stayed in the turret. Not all the noise we were making went unrewarded. For the first few minutes, they dribbled in by ones and twos. Getting on towards the ten-minute mark, the numbers started dramatically to increase to groups of five to ten. Between the various cars, the Winnie and the harbor Master’s shack, we had a halfway decent defensive perimeter with some nice kill zones. Mary and I had somehow ended up at the end of the line next to the water. As long as the scattered cars kept them somewhat separated, we would be able to handle the next few minutes.

  Once again, I tried to remain calm and focus on my breathing. My best guess was that I had about ten rounds remaining and really hoped my additional ammo had been transferred from Winnie Two. All I could do was burn what I have, drop the shotgun and go with the Ruger. Without taking my eyes off the incoming zombies, I reached down and made damn sure the safety was off and I would actually be able to remove my side arm when the moment came, and it was coming. An exceedingly loud bang from my right made me jump and waste the next shot.

  It was Mary and her zany, metal polished, custom grip, three fifty seven magnum. I mean come on, that monster was almost a quarter her size. Mary had backed up against a light post and used two hands to fire the cannon. One thing for sure, that old gal knew how to tap that behemoth. She quickly found her zone and went to work. I was at a great angle to observe Mary going down town. I think she was saying something, at least her mouth was moving. She would tense up and flex her back against the pole just before she fired. Like me, she let them get a bit close and like me, she never missed. She dropped six in about thirty seconds, ejected empty, picked out a speed loader from a vest pocket, loaded, and dropped six in the next thirty. Holy shit! I thought I was badass. I wanted to get closer to hear what she was saying, because, come on, and think about it. The stuff coming out of her mouth has got to be a comedy goldmine for the Mary’s roast we would have on the island.

  “Time to go!” Couldn’t tell who yelled in my ear but he/she needed some serious intimate oral hygiene time. I waited until I caught a little break and then turned around. Everyone was falling back to the dock, and some were already on board. At best, I had three rounds left, which should get me to the boat, and allow me to save my shotgun.

  “Mary, Let’s go!” Given the situation, I assumed the call to retreat would be welcome and she would turn and run. My assumptions were based on the reactions that a normal terrified human being faced, with a rapidly approaching zombie horde might have. I had Mary. I know she had reloaded because in haste, I saw her drop the empty speed loader. She took this really long second to respond to me.

  “I know.” She then lined up the next two.

  “Mary, now is a really great time.” I heard/felt rounds going by me. It was support from the boat, and then Mary’s cannon roared.

  “Mary, please. I need you. Now!”

  “Oh, all right.” With that, she popped off two more, turned towards the boat, and marched away. She didn’t look at me or say a word, or seem to particularly care that we had a serious zombie p
roblem. I was trying to stay calm and quickly walk backwards, oh, and kill anything that got close. I ran dry just as I made it to the dock. Once on board, I threw the shotgun into the cockpit and pulled out the Ruger. The shooting had started to wind down. Once again, it was their numbers and our fortuitous environment that saved our asses. Once the zombies started dropping on the narrow dock, the blood and gore made the old wood, even with the anti-slip patches, slick and the bodies became a hassle to get over. Combined with at least a dozen armed people guarding a meter wide path, nobody was getting close to us. I moved over to where Robert was at the helm.

  “Can I breathe now?”

  “Yeah, John, you can breathe.” So I leaned over the side and vomited.

  “Hold on. Stop firing!” Robert bellowed. “Jesus H Christ. Save the ammunition.”

  “We’re safe. Let’s not shoot one another. Listen up, this boat was not made for this many people. The good news is that the weather looks clear and calm. We should be able to find some place nice and safe to spend the night. The bad news is that we have to keep this boat balanced, so think of yourself as ballast. We need even weight on either side. Let’s go.” So we went about getting ourselves squared away. I got lucky and scored a topside port seat with a great view of the shore.

  “Everyone, quiet up!” It was actually nice to hear someone shout again. Robert continued, “Okay, here’s the plan. Right now, for tonight at least, we have one boat, this boat. We are going to stay right where we are and wait for Roy and Hammer. Mary if you can hear me, you are in charge of the supplies.”

  “Ten four, Captain,” yelled a muffled voice from somewhere below.

  “Doc and Jim, keep your eyes on the shore and let’s see what happens. Everybody else, get some rest and drink some damn water.”

  Essentially, that was it. We, or what was left of us, had made it to a boat to temporary safety. A strange combination of feelings that kept me up that night. I felt ashamed for making it, a real case of the ‘why me?’ I killed Liz; the one person, the one thing that could have made me whole and all I feel is a guilty relief? No applause for the badass academic warrior? At one point, in this totally sane mental loop I’m experiencing, I almost laughed out loud. It dawned on me that this must be what it is like to be a character in a horror/adventure video game. We have just completed a quest and are now waiting for the new quest to load. Then, it is off to another voyage of adventure and excitement and death.

  Robert and I fired flares every fifteen minutes, but no sign of Roy and Hammer. No talk, which was good. He was particularly agitated that his computer didn’t work and I had just murdered the love of my life. We were maybe a hundred yards from shore. A bit too close for me when you consider there are living people out there who, for whatever twisted fucking reason, want to shoot at you, but I wanted those guys back. They were my, our, leaders. So far, no one was shooting at us, or for that matter, shooting at all. As for what is now passing for usual, the zombies did not let us down. From every imaginable point on shore they came. If we had not made it to the boats, we would have been overwhelmed. With all the noise, we’ve been making, I suppose some of them might have been following us the better part of the day. The firefight at the dock did little to conceal our actions. They just spent their time gathering forces, milling about and glaring at us. A few made a mad dash for the boat, and as soon as the water got above their head, they just went under, and we never saw them again. I kept glancing over the side expecting to see just below the surface, the outstretched fingertips of hundreds of the undead reaching up for us. As if, I needed help with not sleeping. Once it got dark, we fired up the spotlight. Robert spent about thirty minutes hooking it up and I don’t know what 70K candlepower means, but in my terms, really really bright. Holy crap. Just a solid wall of zombies as far as the beam could project. Once the light from the flare died down and you looked at the beam of light on the grey horde, it almost looked alive, like it was one creature.

  I lay down on the side that was hurting least, my back. My mind was in meltdown. What happened today? Where the hell are Roy and Hammer? They killed the dogs? Where is Elizabeth? Samuel and Nancy killed the dogs, Roy and Hammer are gone and I killed Liz. Liz is dead. After a while, I began to notice the gentle rocking of the Providence. In about ten minutes, the rhythm dragged me to sleep.

  Like one who, on a lonely road,

  Doth walk in fear and dread,

  And having once turn’d round, walks on,

  And turns no more his head,

  Because he knows a frightful fiend

  Doth close behind him tred.

  Samuel Taylor Coleridge The Rime of the Ancyent Maninere

  Chapter 14 ~ In the Navy

  June 12th

  I was jolted awake by a loud knock. It took me a minute to realize where I was and this was clearly not the Providence. I was on ship. How the hell did I get on a ship? The door opened and a sailor entered the room. He had a lot of stuff on his sleeves, so I am guessing he had some rank.

  “Sorry to wake you, sir. You have a meeting scheduled for thirteen hundred hours and I thought you might want to shower and get something to eat first. It’s eleven thirty now. I will help orient you around.”

  “Well, give me a second to come back to reality. Can we eat first?”

  “No problem, sir.”

  “How long have I been out?”

  “About eighteen hours, sir.”

  “What?”

  “You were visited by medics and everything seemed okay. Sometimes, you just need to get rest on your own schedule.”

  “Name’s John, yours?”

  “Oh, I apologize, Luke, pleased to meet you, John.” I sat up, we shook hands, and I very slowly got to my feet.

  “Give me a second. I don’t think I have ever slept that long.”

  “No problem. Welcome aboard the Harry Truman.”

  I felt like I had been out for days, as if I was drugged. Everything seemed out of focus, but not in a good stoned sort of way. Wow, that was way too much to recall. Did I just ask him to eat after he told me we were going to eat? God, I need to get a grip. Man, did the shower help.

  Luke came back and led me through a maze of grey corridors, which ended in a large room packed with sailors and marines, eating what I guessed was dinner, might have been lunch.

  Cool! Fried chicken, green beans, mashed potatoes, and a real salad, oh yeah! All of a sudden, I was really hungry. In a haze, but I still noticed that the cooks were giving me larger portions than the guys in front. I went to the dispenser and got milk, real milk? I poured some and just stood there looking at it. It was cool and white with beads of condensation already making its way down the outside of the glass, absolutely beautiful. How long would we have milk? I just stood there, looking and looking.

  It took me a while, but I began to notice that the loud racket of the room had died down. As I turned to find a seat, I saw that everyone was looking at me. Had they not seen a survivor before? Was I not supposed to eat here? I felt like a party crasher who had just been busted. I moved to a table at the far end of the room that had a couple of empty seats. The guys at the table stood as I approached. They were all marines and I instantly thought I had done something to piss them off.

  “Is this seat empty?”

  “It would be an honor if you dined with us, sir.” It came from a large black man and almost sounded like an order rather than an invitation. I later learned that his name was Roland, from Seattle, and one of the nicest guys in the world, just don’t get him angry.

  “Okay, thanks. Name’s John, I just came on board yesterday. I think I am some kind of consultant.”

  They all looked at me as if I had two heads. I glanced around the room and almost everyone was still staring. My mind was foggy from sleeping, but what the hell was going on here? Then I saw the suspended flat screen monitors scattered around the dining hall, and I froze. Each monitor had a rather distorted image of me, I was almost sure it was one of the last video entries
I made at the lighthouse. Shit! They had seen the video! My video! I just lowered my head and started to eat my salad. It was obvious that I had been caught off guard.

  Everyone was quiet and then Roland spoke up.

  “Sir, the top brass thought we could learn something, and understand the mainland situation better through your experience. We thought you knew.”

  “Ah…sergeant? It’s okay. Robert and I handed over the tapes without reservation, and if any good can come from them…well…if it’s helpful.” I could only look at my plate of food. I was tired and just so dead inside. Too much has happened and way too fast to adequately process. El Macho Machete was gone forever. John was back to being John, so I guess I might as well eat.

  “Sir, name’s Marvin, I don’t mean to be disrespectful but…that was really you? No special effects? CGI?”

  I swallowed a mouthful of chicken and tried not to choke. “Yes, no, and I hope not.” I went back to eating.

  “John,” said Roland again. “That was some serious shit you and Robert went through. We’ll get our turn and we will not let you down.” The rest of the table yelled, ‘Oorah!’

  “Thanks, we did our best, but only two out of twenty-two, two out of twenty…” I went back to eating and everyone gave me some space. After I finished and I was feeling comfortable and full, it just hit me. Somehow, I understood that I was in for the long haul. I mean, why not? I could just fade into the Vineyard, but I was going all the way. I only have one choice. I’m sorry, Liz, but I’m going back to the mainland.

  “Hey, Roland, since I am an official consultant and supposed to be an expert on zombies, is there any chance I can tag along when you go?”

  “You heard something?”

  “No, no, but I don’t see anyone raising chickens or milking cows, not to mention the whole agriculture thing. I’m serious. I want to go back and see how this is all playing out. Maybe I can find some way they react, respond to different stimuli that might give us an additional edge.”