Outbreak (Book 1): Emerald City

by Jay K. Anthony

  They both sat in silence for a minute. The idea of so much death was overwhelming. Finally Rocha shook his head, popped the joints in his neck and changed the subject. “They ever figure out where ground zero was?” he asked.

  “Yes,” Clark said. This information was in a classified report among Clark’s documents back on the ship. He shouldn’t talk about it, but given the state of the world, Clark did not see any reason not to declassify the information. Who the hell would Rocha tell anyway? he wondered. “It all started with the wrong person in the wrong place at the wrong time. Some lab guy at a pharmaceutical company got infected with the virus while he was working on it. He went home feeling sick, passed it to his wife, who happened to work at a popular food counter at Los Angeles International Airport. She served food to thousands of passengers, pilots, and flight attendants, many of whom were on international flights. These people in turn passed the disease around the world. After that, it was all over.”

  “Unbelievable.”

  Clark nodded. "Tell me about it,” he said and held up the paperwork in his hand. “Anyway, I got you new orders.”

  “I kind of figured that was why you were here,” Rocha said. “Let me see.” Clark handed him the paper. “Back to the hospital?” Rocha asked as he glanced over the memo.

  “Yes. I need to collect whatever documentation they have on the patient.”

  “You need to collect?” Rocha asked. Clark was afraid Rocha would put that together. He knew what he needed to say, but he could not physically open his mouth to say it. He could only stare at Rocha. “Really?” Rocha asked. “You’re going on this mission?” Clark could only nod. “Don’t worry about it,” Rocha said. “The place has already been cleared. Should be a piece of cake. Plus, you will only have one job.”

  “Ok,” Clark replied. “What’s that?”

  “I’m going to be worried about everything in front of us, plus what we encounter to the left and the right. I need it to be your job to make sure that no one, human or otherwise, sneaks up behind us.”

  “Behind us,” Clark said. “Got it.”

  “Good,” Rocha continued. “As we clear the hospital, every couple of steps, take a look back to make sure it’s safe.”

  No problem. “Ok,” Clark said. “I can do that.”

  “Most importantly, don’t get separated from me,” Rocha said.

  Clark had no intention of leaving Rocha’s side. They would be stuck like glue. “I won’t. Anything else?“ Clark asked.

  “Not that I can think of, but shit always comes up.”

  “Like what?”

  “Who knows,” Rocha said. “Adapt and go. It’s what we do. When do we leave?”

  Adapt and go … Clark suddenly had second thoughts about making this trip but he knew it was too late to turn back now. “First chopper in the morning,” he said.

  “Damn straight,” Rocha replied. “Just about anything is better than sitting around here. Living in the barracks makes me soft.”

  LUKE

  Luke stood dripping wet in the pitch black of the garage and felt his stomach drop when he heard the sound of splintering wood. The emergency sprinklers had put out the fire too soon and the door downstairs was breaking open. After a moment, he heard the unmistakable growl of zombies and the slapping of feet as they stormed up the stairs. Suddenly, Luke felt a hand grab his arm and he jumped thinking it was a zombie. His heart beating a mile a minute, Luke realized it was only Matt beside him. “Where are those flares?” Matt whispered straight into his ear.

  “Jesus Christ, man, you scared the shit out of me” Luke whispered back.

  “Stop being a wimp,” Matt said. “Where the hell are they?”

  “I left an extra one in the box behind the seat in the truck,” Luke said and heard Matt swear under his breath, followed by the sounds of the man fumbling through the darkness trying to get back to the tow truck. Should I follow him? Luke thought. He didn’t know what to do. The zombies were coming and he couldn’t see a damn thing. He was afraid to even breathe. Safety in numbers, he thought and stumbled in the direction he thought Matt went. After a few steps he bumped into someone and let out a little yelp.

  “Would you shut up?” Matt whispered.

  “I thought you were a zombie,” Luke whispered back.

  “Do I smell like burned shit to you?” Matt asked. Luke realized he had a point. He didn’t know where Officer Park and his merry band of zombie misfits were, but at least he couldn’t smell them yet. Suddenly Luke had a sick feeling. Where the hell did I put my shotgun? He knew the last time he had it was when he was helping pour the gasoline into the jug. It had to be leaning against the wall near the stairs down to the basement. Luke grabbed onto Matt’s shirt. “My shotgun is back by the stairs,” he whispered.

  “You’re shitting me,” Matt said.

  “I have to go back and get it.”

  Luke could hear Matt draw his magnum pistol. “Good idea,” Matt whispered. “We should split up so you can distract them.” Now you have got to be shitting me! No Goddamned way am I going to be some kind of guinea pig, he thought and backed away from Matt. He took two steps and collided into a barrel, knocking it over and spilling car parts out onto the floor with a loud clatter.

  “I didn’t say now!” Matt yelled and Luke heard him run off to his right. He also heard one of the zombies scrambling straight toward him. Luke turned, tripped over the barrel, got to his feet and ran blind in the direction he thought his shotgun might be. Whatever was behind him rushed into one of the shelves and Luke heard a crash of metal as something big fell over. Where the hell is Matt? Luke wondered, just as he slammed into a waist-high workbench and crushed his nuts on one of the corners. Oh my God! My balls! Suddenly, zombies didn’t matter so much. Everything hurt from his knees to his shoulders as he held himself with both hands. He couldn’t catch his breath and felt like he needed to shit his pants. Suddenly one of the flares exploded from across the garage in bright red light.

  “Hey, you ugly sons-a-bitches!” Matt yelled from across the garage. “Over here!”

  Luke looked up and saw Matt as he held the stick up over his head with his left hand. With his right hand, Matt pointed his .44 magnum pistol and opened fire on the half burned remains of one of the zombies. The gun was a hand cannon and blew the zombie’s head to pieces. In the red glow of the flare, Luke saw his shotgun leaning innocently up against the wall near him. Luke ignored his damaged testicles and scrambled for his weapon. Grabbing it, he turned on the zombies.

  “Bring it on!” Luke yelled and opened fire as two more zombies came up the stairs and ran straight at Matt. Between the two of them, Matt and Luke had the zombies in a crossfire. They each kept shooting and blew the monsters to pieces.

  “I need to reload!” Matt yelled and Luke saw him toss the flare across the room. The only remaining zombie in sight ignored it and ran at Matt.

  “Look out!” Luke yelled and opened fire. The first shot hit a plastic bucket sitting on a shelf and exploded in a hail of grease, but the second shot caught the zombie in the shoulder and sent it spinning into a stack of old car doors with a crash. Matt finished reloading and snapped the pistol chamber shut. He stepped over to the zombie and shot it point blank in the side of the head. Luke walked over to where Matt stood in the near dark and looked at the zombie remains. “Any of these guys your buddy?” he asked.

  “I don’t think so,” Matt said and lit the last flare. “He must still be downstairs.”

  The two of them went to the stairs and stared down into the darkness. There had been sprinklers in the basement as well and everything was soaking wet. They walked down and found Officer Park’s body burnt to a near crisp and face down in the doorway to the basement. “Must have been standing right in the puddle of gasoline when we lit it up,” Matt said. “Toasted him big time. And look, keys are right here on his belt.” Matt grinned as he leaned down and unclipped the key ring, but just as he stood back up, what was once Officer Park groaned and trie
d to roll over. What unholy terror possesses these poor bastards, Luke wondered. Matt jumped out of the way and almost dropped the flare as the zombie reached for him with what remained of its burnt and rotten hand.

  “I got this,” Luke said and stepped over the zombie. He turned the shotgun around and slammed the butt of the rifle down. What was once Officer Park’s head caved in and its hand went limp.

  “Nasty,” Matt said and jingled the keys. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

  Luke followed Matt back up the stairs and into the garage. As they reached the top, they could hear the growl and hiss of another zombie coming from near the front door. “Goddamn gunfire must have drawn him,” Matt said. “I tell you what. You take him out and I’ll see if I can get this truck running.”

  Not my favorite idea, Luke thought, but he didn’t see a better option. “Works for me,” he said and picked up the still burning flare they had left on the floor. He started for the front door and had only gone a few feet when a zombie popped out from around a corner. Without missing a step, Luke blew a hole through it. He listened for a full minute and confident that there had been only the one in the building with them, he went to check on Matt. On the way back, Luke saw their backpacks and other gear beside the stairwell. Shit, almost left my smokes, he thought and picked up the bags. He found Matt working to hook a generator to the truck’s engine. “How we doing?” Luke asked as he threw their stuff in the back.

  “Making progress,” Matt replied. “Going to have to use this generator to give us a jump.”

  “You sure that’s a good idea?” Luke asked. “Have you heard how loud a generator is? The noise will draw every zombie for twenty blocks.”

  “Not much choice,” Matt said. “Only other option is to push start this thing, and I don’t see that happening in here.” Luke knew he was right, so he put down his shotgun and flare on a nearby shelf. He went to the generator and started pulling on the ignition cord. On the third try, the generator roared to life. Matt jumped into the truck and keyed the engine. It tried to turn over, failed a few times, finally started, and promptly died. Matt jumped out of the cab and went back to the engine. “Almost there,” Matt said. Luke did not know shit about engines, so he grabbed his gun and flare and let Matt do his thing while he went to check out the front door and make sure a horde of zombies wasn’t headed their way. He did not like what he saw. They had definitely attracted attention with the fire alarm, gunfire and now the generator. Dozens of zombies were sprinting across the yard towards them. Shit, he thought. We need to get the hell out of here. Right now. He went at a jog back to check on Matt, who was working under the hood again. “We got company, Matt,” Luke said. “How we doing?”

  “That should do it,” Matt said from under the hood. He stood back, admired his work, and then jumped behind the wheel again. He turned the key and the engine immediately turned over. Matt roared the engine and the garage immediately reeked of exhaust. Matt turned the truck lights on and instantly the garage was full of light. “I told you!” Matt yelled and jumped out of the truck.

  “Perfect,” Luke said and started to climb into the passenger seat. “Now let’s go.”

  “Hold on,” Matt said. “I want the generator. Help me out.”

  Luke grit his teeth because he knew they were cutting it close, but went to help. He rested his shotgun against the wall near the truck and went to the generator. Matt disconnected it from the engine battery and slammed the hood of the truck. Luke rolled up the cables and pushed the generator around to the back where Matt helped him lift it up and set it in the bed next to the tow arm. Luke stopped and listened. It sounded like there were a hundred zombies outside. “What’s the plan?” he asked.

  “I’m gonna drive straight through that,” Matt said, pointing at the boarded up garage door as he climbed into the driver’s seat.

  Luke grinned. “Works for me,” he said and got into the passenger seat. “Whoa, wait. Let me get my shotgun.” He got out of the truck and noticed how fast the garage was filling up with exhaust. The whole place stunk to high heaven. Holding his breath and hurrying so he didn’t die of something as stupid as carbon monoxide poisoning, he looked for his shotgun. Suddenly, a bloody hand grabbed him from the darkness.

  “Matt!” he screamed. He knew he sounded like a little girl, but he couldn’t help it, he was scared. “Matt!” He slapped the hand away and saw zombies coming through the darkness towards him. He turned to run back to the truck but another hand grabbed him around the ankle and he fell hard on the paved floor of the garage. He feared he would soon feel teeth on his neck, tearing his throat open, and knew he was going to die. The zombies would eat him and what was left would come back to life. He would spend eternity roaming the streets of Seattle.

  Hands were now on his leg, pulling him backward across the concrete floor. “Maaaatttttt!” he screamed and suddenly the hands were gone. Luke rolled over and saw Matt swinging his sledge hammer with both hands, back and forth, knocking the zombies out of his way, crushing them in the chest and head with the mallet.

  “Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God!” Luke cried and scrambled to his feet. The two of them ran for the truck and jumped into the cab. They quickly locked the doors as zombies swarmed the truck.

  “Damn, dude,” Matt said. “You scream like a child.”

  With shaking hands, Luke dug his smokes out of his pocket and lit a half crushed cigarette. He didn’t care what Matt said, he was alive. “Oh my God,” Luke said again. “You saved my ass back there.”

  Matt ignored him and revved the engine. The whole truck was vibrating. Zombies clawed at the windows and climbed onto the hood. Luke saw Matt grin. “Watch this!” Matt said as he released the emergency brake, put the transmission into drive, and stomped on the gas. The truck crashed through the door, crushing the zombies on the truck. Once they were through, Luke saw more zombies in the headlights. The ones that had not been flattened as they drove through the door were standing all over in the yard. The horde immediately turned and rushed the truck. Matt drove straight forward and crushed part of them under the weight of the heavy tow truck. Luke looked back and saw what remained of the garage door in the truck’s tail lights. Mangled and flailing corpses were everywhere. Holy shit! Luke thought and looked at Matt who was grinning from ear to ear. Luke slowly started to grin too, the adrenaline from almost being eaten alive was slowly draining out of his system.

  “Crush them all!” Luke said, laughing. Matt yanked the steering wheel hard to the right and spun the truck around to face the front gate. He kept his foot on the gas and held the steering wheel with both hands. Gritting his teeth, Matt plowed through another mob of zombies and drove straight through the front gate. Sparks, zombies, and parts of the gate went everywhere. Luke bounced around inside the cab as Matt drove over the sidewalk and into the street. Matt turned a hard left and pinned Luke against his door. Laughing like a mad man, Matt gunned the engine and drove hard into the night.

  “We made it, man!” he shouted.

  “Hell, yeah!” Luke shouted back and took a long drag on his cigarette. It’s good to be alive!

  TASHA

  Tasha sat in the Humvee and waited. In her opinion, loading the vehicle had taken far too long. Everyone had started out moving together, but things fell apart quickly. Tasha had run for the MREs and immediately brought back two boxes. She arrived just as Ortiz came back with a duffle bag full of medical supplies. Unfortunately they were the only two at the vehicle. Williams could not figure out how to unhook the radio. Cleveland had gone to help, but from all the yelling and complaining, Tasha thought he was just making things more difficult. Tanner had come out of the bunker with two square cans of ammunition. As Tasha watched, he had promptly slipped in the mud and fell into a trench. So Tasha jumped from the Humvee and went to help Tanner climb out of the trench with the ammunition. He thanked her, gave her the two cans and went back for his sniper rifle. Williams finally came out of the tent holding the radio, which he carried
to the front passenger seat of the Humvee and started to install it in the dash. Cleveland ran off to get water just as Tanner came back out of the bunker with his sniper rifle. Ortiz climbed in and sat behind the driver’s steering wheel, so Tasha had gotten back into the Humvee behind Williams.

  She tried to wait patiently but she could only feel a wave of panic brewing in her stomach. Are we ever getting out of here? she wondered as Williams continued to fumble at the dash. Just then, Tasha saw a creeper come stumbling up the road. She tapped Williams on the shoulder. “What?” he asked as he worked to strap the radio to the dashboard of the Humvee.

  “Creeper,” Tasha said and pointed at the road. The creeper was a mess. It limped horribly, like its leg was broken, and could only stumble forward.

  “I got this,” Tanner said from beside the Humvee and aimed at the creeper with his sniper rifle.

  “Save the bullet,” Williams ordered, so Tanner set the weapon aside and picked up a shovel. He walked over and clubbed the creeper in the side of the head.

  “Better?” he asked.

  “Perfect,” Williams said. “Now stay there and watch the road. I almost have this.” Tanner nodded and walked to where the road reached the top of the hill. Cleveland finally came back carrying two five gallon containers of water and he put them in the back of the Humvee before he sat in the back seat to Tasha’s left, behind Ortiz.

  “Masks back on,” Williams ordered and Tasha remembered she had thrown hers in the Humvee. She rooted around on the floor and found it. The mask was a mess and there was no way she was going to put it on. It was disgusting and so filthy she could not see through the eyeholes.

  “Um,” she said. “I don’t suppose --“