Zombie Crusade

by J. W. Vohs

  He released her from his protective embrace. “Let’s pack up; I’m not leaving you here alone again.”

  “What about the people who need help?”

  “Andi, we’ve done all that we can to get the word out to everyone in the area. The whole country is facing a deadly pandemic, and we’ve tried our best to do all that we could for the people in our little corner of the world. The time for preparation has passed. Now is the time for war.”

  CHAPTER 13

  After taking Andi and the children back to The Castle and receiving a brief report from Tina, who was leading the RRT that night, Jack headed back to the court house to find the defenses completed and many of the refugees asleep. Barry told him that forty more people had arrived, including eight men who appeared able and willing to join the guards preparing to defend the building.

  One of the secretaries was in her office monitoring both the internet and a local news channel. The national situation was one of chaos and destruction. Most major US cities were experiencing severe rioting and uncontrollable fires, with packs of the infected roaming the streets and sowing panic in their midst. D.C. and the rest of the eastern cities had been abandoned by military and police forces after being overwhelmed by hordes of zombies that they were ill-equipped to combat. The few journalists remaining in New York were holed up in apartment buildings, reporting through the internet, where they described mounds of corpses in streets ruled by zombies. The living had fled by every available form of transport, which had led to gridlock on all major roadways, train systems, and airports in the metro area.

  The Midwestern cities, such as Chicago, were first destroyed by panic, as the mostly uninfected populace tried to stampede their way out of the various towns following a day-long spree of rioting and looting. The suburbs across the heart of the nation were flooded with hungry, exhausted, and, too often, dangerous refugees. On their heels came the zombies. In most places there was little organized resistance. The vast majority of people could only think of running from monsters that many enjoyed seeing in films but could not face in reality. Millions of people were infected, while many others died in accidents and by acts of violence. The bottom line was that by morning the Midwestern cities would be in the same condition as the metroplexes of the eastern United States.

  The story was little better out west, though the people there tended to believe the authorities who told them that they had time to prepare. Everyone seemed to understand that the airports had been the primary vectors through which the virus had spread around the country, and many people deduced that their best chance to avoid infection was to flee the major cities where those airports lay. Unfortunately, the hordes of refugees escaping to suburban and rural areas contained plenty of individuals who were already infected, so the virus quickly spread virtually everywhere west of the Mississippi River. Situations similar to D.C and the other major metropolises of the east sprung up in medium-sized cities and smaller towns, while places such as Los Angeles and Salt Lake City were nearly ghost towns where zombies, gangs, and groups of non-predatory survivors fought over the resources they needed to live.

  Barry had come into the room and was silently watching the news with Jack. He finally stated, “Only took three days for the United States to fall into chaos and anarchy.”

  Jack was quiet for over a minute before responding, “Let’s see how Utah does in the coming months.”

  Barry frowned, “Why do you say that?”

  “I spent a semester as a visiting professor at Utah State up in Logan a few years ago; it’s a secular school, but I still learned quite a bit about Utah and the Mormon Church during my time out there. LDS theology isn’t my cup of tea, but there are a lot of things about the Mormon lifestyle that should help plenty of small towns and families survive this crisis.”

  Barry looked interested, “Like what?”

  “Well, Mormon families are encouraged to keep at least a one-year food supply on hand. Many Mormons hunt and fish; I mean, it really is a sportsman’s paradise in LDS country. They aren’t just big in Utah; they’re all over Idaho, Arizona, Oregon, heck, all the western states have sizable Mormon populations, even California. So they have food and weapons in abundance, and they’re organization is amazing. Whenever a congregation grows too large, maybe three or four hundred people, they split in half. The people stay connected through those small churches, and they don’t lose ties with members of their former group either because the split congregations usually remain organized in something called a stake. Some of those towns out there are over ninety-percent Mormon, and I expect them to do better than the rest of the country in dealing with the virus and the infected.”

  Barry asked, “Have you tried to make radio contact with people out there?”

  “Tina and John have been making what are basically public service announcements through Youtube videos. Hopefully, people all over the world are learning the basics of how to avoid infection, the infected themselves, and how to fight when necessary.”

  Barry mused, “You know, if we survive here, someday all of the survivors across the country will have to rebuild. Might be a good idea to establish contacts around the country ASAP.”

  “What do you have in mind?”

  “Well, there’s a Mormon Church just east of Columbia City; I’ve done some work for them before. It’s only about fifteen miles from here. Why don’t you try to establish contact with them and see how their communications with family members out west are at this point?”

  Jack looked at Barry for a moment, then shook his head in amusement. “You know, for a carpenter you see things pretty clearly most of the time.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I don’t know; I guess I picture construction guys drinking beer in a tavern at the end of the day, complaining about how the Colts are doing.”

  Barry laughed for the first time since Jack had rescued him from the gas station. “We do plenty of that too. But I’ve just always been a problem solver; maybe that’s why I run my own company instead of driving nails for somebody else.”

  “Well,” Jack replied, “I’m glad to have you aboard here. I have a feeling a lot of people are going to owe you their lives before this is all over.”

  Barry’s shoulders slumped and his gaze fell to the floor, “I couldn’t save the one that mattered the most to me.”

  “Hey buddy, you guys had no idea what you were dealing with. I’ve been preparing for these things for ten years and if it wasn’t for my helmet I would have been zombie chow in that gas station. You might have had better luck trying to stop a tornado than nine zombies without weapons and experience. I know you’re hurting, but you didn’t do anything wrong in that situation.”

  Barry nodded but didn’t say anything in response.

  Jack changed the subject, “Do you still have the phone number of the person you contracted with over at that LDS church?”

  Barry pulled out his phone and scrolled down, “Actually, I have two numbers.”

  Jack smiled, “All right, see if you can make contact with anyone over there and let them know what we’re doing in Noble County.”

  Barry looked concerned as he continued to stare at his phone. “Jack, I can’t get any service. Think the walls of this old building are interfering with the signal?”

  Jack pulled his cell phone out, “Looks like I have the same problem. Let’s walk outside and see if we get a signal.”

  They walked out onto the lawn of the court house and found that nothing changed with their phone service. They spoke with a number of guards who all had the same problem until Jack finally surmised, “This is probably the beginning of the end of cell phone service. Power and gas will be next. Workers will be staying home to protect their families; some of them will end up infected as well. Probably by nightfall tomorrow we’ll begin a long period without power.”

  “Generators?” Barry asked.

  “Maybe, but they’ll have to be set up away from our safe-houses beca
use the zombies will be attracted to the noise of the motors. Then we’ll have to be very careful with refueling them and doing maintenance.”

  Jack furrowed his brow as he thought for a moment, “Our doctors will need power if they have to do any serious medical work. Get on the land lines and contact everyone you know who has a generator, and call your suppliers too. We need emergency power available for our clinics or we’re going to lose some people who otherwise could have been saved. Can you take care of that for me?”

  Barry nodded, “Sure.”

  Jack explained, “Keep your guards tight and make sure you get at least a few hours sleep tonight. I’m going to head out to The Castle and pick up some two-way radios so we can maintain communications with our other safe-houses. I should have seen the cell phone loss coming.”

  Barry reassured him, “Nobody can think of everything. You want one of the guys here to go along with you in case you run into any trouble out there?”

  “I’ll be fine,” Jack promised. “Just hold down the fort till I get back.”

  Twenty minutes later Jack was heading down a rural road leading out of town, driving slowly with his high-beams on, looking for any sign of trouble that hadn’t been called in. Just as he passed the sign for Hunter’s Ridge housing addition someone took a step out into the road and collapsed onto the pavement in front of the Jeep. Jack slammed on the brakes, then stifled an instinctive reaction to jump out of the vehicle and check on the person. Instead, he backed up twenty feet and let the headlights illuminate the scene. The person lying in the road wasn’t moving, but Jack could clearly see a growing dark puddle of blood creeping out from under the body. Again, instead of jumping out to investigate, he exercised caution by pulling out his LED Maglite and scanning the landscape through the Jeep’s windows. Catching movement at the edge of his vision, he focused the light near a large oak tree where seconds later a shuffling, moaning zombie emerged from the shadows.

  Jack still didn’t know if the creatures could see or smell, but this zombie was following the trail left by the unresponsive, obviously wounded person lying in the road. Jack thought the zombies had an unerring sense of direction that would shame a bloodhound. He was now faced with a dilemma; he’d promised Carter and the others that he would call for help and take no more unnecessary chances with his safety. Forgetting the radios and relying on cell phones had been a huge mistake on his part, but in the end he just couldn’t leave an injured person to be devoured by a zombie. Jack pulled on his helmet as he exited the vehicle, tugging the strap tight as he called out to divert the zombie’s attention from the helpless person the creature was tracking.

  The zombie immediately stopped and cocked its head in Jack’s direction, letting out a soft moan as it located a new source of meat and changed course in pursuit. Jack could see no obvious wound on the creature. It was moving at a very fast walk with its arms stretching out as it approached within five feet. Jack had switched out the battle-axe for a short mace after the fiasco at the gas station had revealed the need for further training on how to avoid bladed weapons becoming stuck following a powerful blow. He had the mace in his right hand as he easily slipped under the zombie’s clumsy grab and came up slightly behind and to the left of the creature. Jack spun his body with a strong swing that connected just behind the zombie’s ear, sending bone fragments from a skull fracture flying into the lower brain and ending the poor creature’s existence.

  As he checked to make sure the monster was down for good he heard another soft moan and spun quickly to meet the new threat. Instead of an approaching zombie he found the person who had fallen in the road looking up at him, whispering for help and trying to get her hands under her body so she could push herself up. Jack rushed to her side and immediately rolled her over onto her back so he could get a better look at her wound. She was a slender teenager with long, mangled, dark hair surrounding a pretty but terrified face. She had a nasty scrape, which was rapidly becoming a huge bruise, stretching from her right eyebrow to her hairline. But what concerned Jack was that the front of her light-colored blouse was completely soaked in deep red blood.

  Jack frantically asked, “Where are you hurt? What happened to you?”

  All the girl could do was whisper, “Shot.”

  “Have you been bitten anywhere?”

  She slowly shook her head, mouthing “No” as she closed her eyes.

  Taking a quick look around Jack ran back to the Jeep and grabbed the first aid kit he always carried in the vehicle. Hurrying back to the girl he whipped open a folding knife and sliced open her tattered blouse from waist to throat, pulling back the saturated cloth to reveal a small entry wound just above her navel. Blood was still flowing freely from the wound, so Jack ripped open a packet of clotting agent and dumped it on the bullet-hole. Then he pulled out a large, combat-style bandage and pressed it onto the clotting agent. The girl gasped in pain when he applied pressure to the wound, which actually led Jack to believe she might have a chance if he could get her to the clinic at The Castle, where, thanks to Deb and Doc Redders, they had a state-of-the-art trauma treatment center.

  Now came the tricky part. He pulled out an absorbent cloth and wiped away as much blood as possible from the flesh around the wound. Maintaining pressure on the bandage, he pulled out a roll of thick medical tape and used his free hand and mouth to tear off large pieces and strap them over the cloth covering the wound. He was a bit surprised that it all held as well as it did, but thankful that the crude bandage gave him the chance to lift her far enough that he could move his hand up and down her back to look for an exit wound. Certain that the bullet was still in her body, Jack ran a rolled wrap completely around her torso in a manner that he hoped would hold the pressure bandage in place until he could get her to The Castle. Satisfied that he had done all he could do to slow the blood loss, Jack tossed everything back into the kit-bag and rose to his feet. Just then he heard the breaking of branches and a chorus of moans.

  He looked up to see three zombies less than ten feet away, with others emerging from the shadows behind them in numbers he couldn’t determine. He had time to run to the Jeep and save himself, but Jack knew he would never abandon the girl. His mind immediately reverted to that place where training and muscle memory kicked the instinct for self-preservation to the curb and sent commands to the various parts of his body needed to face the lethal threat heading his way. Calmly tossing the mace into his left hand, Jack pulled the .22 free with his right. With the first zombie now reaching for him he couldn’t miss; he put two rounds into the creature’s forehead before nimbly stepping out of the path of the falling corpse. The second zombie stumbled over the body of the first, and Jack sent it crashing to the ground with a leg-sweep. In the blink of an eye Jack leapt to the left, away from the attack he felt coming from his blind side. The gun was already aimed directly at the zombie’s head as the creature quickly turned and tried to step toward Jack. it never had the chance to even stretch out its arms as two rounds slammed into its right eye socket.

  The third zombie was on its knees reaching for Jack, who took a deep breath and brought the mace down with a sickening crunch into the top of the monster’s skull. Now he could look up and see what else he had to deal with, and for a brief moment thought that he might actually panic in spite of his training and experience. At least a dozen zombies were bearing down on his position, and a part of Jack’s brain knew that this was the end. The warrior in him paid no attention to the warning however, replacing any sense of caution and panic with a cold fury that wanted only to destroy as many enemies as possible before falling to their onslaught.

  Jack took three steps forward so that he stood between the injured girl and the mob of zombies bearing down on them. With practiced movements he slid the leather thong of the mace onto a hook attached to his belt, allowing him to hold the pistol in a steady, two-handed grip with which he meant to take as many zombies as possible with him in what he hoped would be an epic final stand. He briefly lamented the
fact that no poets would be around to witness the battle as he began to pull the trigger as quickly as he could while still actually aiming at his targets.

  Within five seconds he had dropped the four closest zombies, then took a second to steady himself for the slightly longer shots needed for the others now crashing through the brush in his direction. Jack continued to pull the trigger and zombies went down until he realized that the last few pulls had resulted in nothing but a clicking sound. More than ten zombies were now on the ground, but others were about to mob him and there was no time to replace the magazine. He dropped the pistol and lifted the mace in less than a second, then pulled his short sword and held it in a reverse grip like it was a fighting knife as the next stage of the struggle began.

  Jack dropped to one knee and slammed the edge of the blade into the flesh above the knee of the closest zombie, severing muscle, tendons, and ligaments before reaching bone and pushing the now crippled monster aside where it fell rolling on the asphalt. He then leapt to his feet with the blade straight above, catching the next zombie under the jaw, stabbing through the soft palate into the brain above the sinuses. He allowed the corpse to fall without even trying to pull his sword free, grabbing the mace with both hands as he completed a spin move that ended with a fearsome blow that nearly decapitated the next zombie.

  Strong hands now grabbed Jack’s shoulders as a gruesome female moved in for a neck-bite, but Jack simply ducked down and stuck the mace between the creature’s legs, flipping it over his head when he stood back up. A brief look behind him revealed the stunned zombie’s mouth to be mere inches from his foot, so he stomped down into the monster’s face and was rewarded with a crunch that told him he wouldn’t have to worry about that one anymore. Now he felt a grip around his ankle, and looked down to see that the zombie he had crippled with the sword-blow to the leg had pulled itself close enough to continue its attack by attempting to take a bite out of his leg.