Buffey looked back to Dakota, then to Joe. “When he was born, Lori died in childbirth. The lab people and the doctors that they have here have figured out that somehow had made him immune to reanimation. The vaccine that they are trying to make is not exactly a cure, but it will prevent people from coming back as zombies. When they die, they will just die, like we used to before all this shit went down.”
Joe grinned and looked down to the sleeping Dakota. “That’s great, but how am I doing the same as he is. I wasn’t born last week like our little buddy here.”
“When you coded, they brought you back a couple of times before you stabilized and they were able to get you off the Joshua James and flown over here. Do you remember any of that?”
Joe’s smile left him. “I remember blackness and a helluva lot of pain. I had this weird feeling that I still haven’t been able to shake. Do you know what the hell it is?”
Chris, Jamie, Ashleigh and Rickey all gathered around Joe. Chris spoke up. “You remember that movie Blade with Wesley Snipes? Same principle apparently applies to Dakota. Yours is a little different. You are making the antibodies because – well, you turned at one point and tried to attack some of the medics on the Joshua James before they got you back. Those guys defibrillated you after you had turned to try and at least knock you down. Instead of knocking you down, it brought you back somehow,” Chris looked at Joe with a serious face. “You are now immune from it. If you get bit, even without having the vaccine, you won’t turn.”
Joe giggled slightly at Chris’ movie reference. “So what, I'm like the zombie Daywalker?”
“Pretty much the long and short of it, yeah. You can’t get infected, near as they can tell.”
“I’ll be damned,” Joe said and began laughing. The rest of his troupe joined in his guffaw in the middle of the USNS Mercy, anchored off the coast of Mississippi, in safe waters. There was a vaccine on the way, and Joe and his miniature companion were the incubator for it. Joe had managed to get most everyone to safety that he set out to. He would never forget the people that he had lost along the way. Andrew, Donnie, Ronnie, and Lori were gone, but they had died for a reason. They had gave their lives so that the rest of humanity could live on, could prosper, and could take back the world that had once been theirs. That world now belonged to the undead.
But not for long…
EPILOGUE - TWO MONTHS LATER
My name is Joe and I carry the cure for the plague of the 20th century. It is not in a satchel or a box or even locked up in a vault. It is in my body and the body of Dakota, my grandson. The vaccine is being synthesized and tested her aboard the USNS Mercy, and will soon be made available for people such as myself to take out to the general population. We get reports every few weeks of a new outpost being formed, mostly at military bases in the United States. I have been asked to join what the squids on the ships are calling ZBRA Units. The nickname is for Zombie Backup, Rescue, and Assault and is comprised of quite a few people that I have brought with me. Jamie and Balboa have already volunteered to be in my unit and Chris is already making runs with another. Once they get us set up permanently we will start making runs to the different outposts that we can get to, mostly by helicopter. We are the people that get called when the shit hits the fan in a “shit already hit the fan” kind of world.
I am writing this down in the hopes that someday we might get our world back from the undead, and I want the world to know that even in the shittiest of times and in the darkest of hours there were people that stood up for others and for the safety and well-being of mankind. We will continue to fight the good fight as long as our bodies will let us and we will not stop, we will not fail, we will get this world of the dead and give it to future generations zombie-free. I survived the response to the outbreak, made my escape, found my salvation, and now I will help rebuild the civilization.
THE STORY WILL CONTINUE
IN…SIX FEET FROM HELL: CIVILIZATION
AND NOW, AN ADDED BONUS TO APPEAR IN SIX FEET FROM HELL: SURVIVORS - A SHORT STORY COLLECTION IN THE SIX FEET FROM HELL UNIVERSE.
GROUND ZERO – WITH ZOMBIES
A SIX FEET FROM HELL STORY
BY JOSEPH A. COLEY
©2013 JOSEPH A. COLEY
Josh woke with a shuddered start. He instinctively grabbed to brace himself as the shuddering and shaking made its way from the depths of his subconscious dreaming to the forefront of reality. He shot up in the bed, his boots untied and uniform still on and unkempt. Josh was finishing a 24-hour shift at Star Ambulance in Grundy, Virginia. He had worked a relatively easy shift up to that point, not having to deal much with the denizens of Buchanan County. The shift had started out with an early call for a vehicle accident with injuries, due in part to the early fog the morning before. The rest of the shift had gone on with little incident, the sick and injured not making a big show for the day.
Josh’s partner Steve, also a Paramedic, came bolting through the door from the other bunkroom in their small station. Their eyes met and both managed out a bewildered amalgam of sounds before Josh finally woke up enough to realize what was going on.
It felt like an earthquake.
“What the fuck is that?” Steve managed out as he threw his boots on and prepared for the inevitable phone call that would come. Even though they were a private ambulance service, Star Ambulance did the vast majority of the incoming 911 calls. The intense shaking subsided, signaling the hopeful end of the quake. Steve finished throwing his boots on as Josh did the same. Both men grabbed their respective gear and ran out the door to the waiting ambulance, still idling form the night before. They switched on both the Buchanan County EMS radio and the Star Ambulance company radio and were initially met with silence. The cool early September morning greeted them instead, a low-lying light fog covering most of what they could see. Being in the heart of coal country, they were used to hearing of mine accidents and accustomed to the occasional boom of the use of explosives in the mines. This morning, however, felt more like a straight-up earthquake instead of the usual low rumble associated with mine blasting.
Josh looked quizzically at Steve as he stood on the driver’s side of the unit and waited with baited breath. “Maybe I was just dreaming it all.”
“Then why in the hell did your dream wake us both up? Don’t you think it would have just done it to you, besides, I felt it too when I woke up.” Steve raised a good point; the upheaval of the earth would not have just affected Josh in his bed, as much as he might have liked it to. There had been some sort of geological event that had just happened and both men were eagerly waiting to see what the public safety world in their small county had to say about it. The radio sat in silence for another thirty seconds before it came to life.
“Attention Grundy Fire Department, your assistance is needed with a mine accident in Whitewood, unknown what the exact problem is. The mine is requesting all available assistance that you have.”
Steve let out a measured sigh of relief. It apparently was just a mine accident; they would more than likely still be needed but at least their imaginations were no longer running wild with ideas. Steve climbed into the driver’s seat as Josh did the same to the passenger’s side, both buckling themselves in. Steve picked up the radio and signed en route to back up the fire department and to assist with the injured. Steve was a seasoned paramedic, working nearly twenty years in the lifesaving business, as opposed to Josh who was relatively new to the EMS field, having worked only the last three years. As Steve flipped on the lights and siren and headed out down the road, the radio continued to come to life.
Numerous calls and pager tones went out to the various rescue and fire agencies in the county and began lighting up the radio channels. By the time the two Star Ambulance employees were enroute to the mine accident that they were dispatched to it was nearly impossible for them to sign out on the radio. Reports were flying in from different corners of Buchanan County and they could only piece together what was happening. As near as they coul
d tell a mine accident was wreaking havoc on the affected miners.
“What the hell is goin’ on? Sounds like this is a big ass problem, wonder which one we should go to?” Josh said as he listened to the radio squawking away.
“Well, Buck One is the one they sent us to, I say we head that way,” Steve replied. “God only knows what they’ve got into over there and it sounds like the shit is hittin’ the fan somethin’ fierce.”
Steve wheeled the Dodge Ram ambulance down the road at breakneck speed as more reports of mine accidents across their small area of Virginia flooded in. Pike County, Kentucky and McDowell County, West Virginia were doing the same as Buchanan County was. Steve unexpectedly pulled the ambulance off the side of the road and turned the siren off. Josh looked at him quizzically.
“What the hell are you doing? We got some major shit goin’ down here; we don’t need to be pullin’ off the side of the road to wait on the cavalry.”
“That’s just it, man, where the hell is our backup. Start makin’ some phone calls and get us some help down here. See if the crew in Vansant is busy and see if we can get some people. Text ‘em, call ‘em, whatever. The radio sounds like it’s going to be useless anyway. Just get us some damn help down here,” Steve said, never taking his eyes away from his front.
Josh nodded and picked up his phone and sent out a mass text to everyone that he knew to be working or were coming in. It said:
ALL HELL BREAKING LOOSE IN GRUNDY
He did not want to give away too many details because honestly, he did not have much of the details. If he could send out a text that would get people’s attention then maybe they would call in and try to find out what was going on. Josh completed his text and stashed his phone back in his pocket.
“Okay, let’s see what we get. We still need to head up there and find out what…” A utility truck that pulled up in front of them interrupted Josh, coming from the direction of their intended direction. Before the men ever got out of the car, Josh knew what they were there for. The miners were not one for being extraordinarily patient when it came to getting aid for their fellow man. When they needed help, they went and got it, they did not wait for it to come to them. The truck skidded to a halt in front of them and the driver jumped out.
“And here we go. Now we find out what the hell is goin’ on,” Steve said as he unlatched his seatbelt and got out of the truck.
The driver looked as if he was worse for wear, but not an uncommon look for the mines. Men came out looking more like they had rolled around in the coal instead of harvesting it for a living. The telltale reverse raccoon look was also not uncommon, evidence of the safety glasses the driver had worn. He did not bother closing the door on the truck as he jumped out and began waving his arms wildly at Josh and Steve. Josh followed the lead of his partner as he calmly approached the injured miners.
“You gotta help ‘em! The damn mine filled up with some kinda fuckin’ gas after some damn explosion blew the shit out of us! I was the only one who was able to drive and I can’t hardly see for shit!” The injured driver hobbled over to the passenger’s side of the truck and flung the door open. His injured friends moaned and groaned from inside the cab of the truck, obviously in great pain. The two miners in the back seat looked as if they were burned on their faces, but it was impossible to tell the difference from the black of the coal and the black of the burn. The charred smell of burnt flesh was an unmistakable smell that was not easily confused with something else. Josh furled his nose as he opened the rear door of the extended cab truck. The first man that Josh saw reached for him, the second man was not moving at all, adding a little more of a challenge to the situation. Josh glanced towards the second man, noticing that he was not breathing.
“Shit! Steve, get over here and get this other dude! I don’t think that he’s breathing!”
Steve nonchalantly ambled over to the driver’s side, as was his custom. Steve had plenty of run ins with life-and-death situations during his long career. A smart medic did not get too excited after so many years of working, and Steve was definitely one of those kinds of medics. Steve was snapping on his gloves when the second miner started to stir, obviously still alive. Steve shrugged at Josh as he noticed the second miner stirring. Steve looked back at the miner in the passenger’s seat and began to examine him. The miner was not moving very much air in and out of his lungs, which Josh could have mistaken for him not breathing at all. The low, guttural sound that he made was indicative of fluid in his lungs that he was unable to get out. Steve checked his airway, also muddled by blackness and swelling, which appeared to be worse than he originally anticipated. Steve stalked back over to the truck as Josh was getting the first miner out of the truck and helping him into the unit.
“Looks like we are gonna transport ‘em both. Imma put this guy in the captain’s chair. How is the other one doin’?”
Steve opened the outside compartment and grabbed a backboard to help get the second miner out. “Well he is breathing, but not for long if we don’t get him intubated soon. I will RSI him, you get some vitals on the other one, and we will try to get this one flown out. I doubt the hospital will want us taking him in intubated, so let’s get a chopper in here before they get covered up with all the other ones they are gonna fly out.”
“Sounds good. I’ll get big homey here in the captain’s chair and I’ll give you a hand with the other dude.” Josh got the miner to the back of the ambulance and helped him in. Josh grabbed his portable radio and called the Sheriff’s office to request a medevac chopper. The garbled transmission he got back eventually signaled that they had the intended service on the way with a twenty-minute ETA. Josh hauled himself into the truck and sat the injured patient in the captain’s chair and seat belted him in. Josh grabbed the heart monitor and slapped the blood pressure cuff and the pulse oximeter to read his oxygen saturation. The patient’s blood pressure was a little on the high side, but within normal limits. Steve appeared at the back of the truck, grabbed the stretcher from its cradle, and motioned to Josh.
“This guy is startin’ to seize on me over here. Gimme a hand and we will get him ready for the chopper. How’s he doin’?”
Josh was checking the airway of his patient with a penlight and clicked it off as Steve loosed the stretcher from the cradle and pulled it out of the truck. “He’s not good, but I think he will be better off than the other one. What are we gonna do about the driver?”
“Have him ride shotgun. I don’t think he’s gonna be able to drive before long and the last thing we need is him wrecking out somewhere behind us. Just tell him to leave the truck and we’ll give him a ride to the hospital.”
Josh nodded and got up to help his partner. He got out of the truck, opened the passenger’s side door, and coaxed the driver into the ambulance. The driver grudgingly obliged and climbed up into the Dodge Ram ambulance. Steve was at the rear of the utility truck and situated the backboard with the stretcher so they could hoist him onto it and get him secured. Josh shut the door on the ambulance and stepped over to Steve as he slid out the semi-conscious miner onto the hard plastic backboard. The patient began to seize again as Josh and Steve were taking the Velcro straps and securing him to the backboard. The helicopter they were using required that the patient be secured to the board while in flight. Josh finished securing the patient and he and Steve both grabbed the ends of the board and placed him on the stretcher. They wheeled the stretcher to the back of the ambulance and loaded it up. The injured miner began thrashing about more violently as they secured the stretcher in the truck.
“Shit! His airway is gonna close off if I don’t get him tubed!” Steve needed to secure his airway and soon, and the process of endotracheal intubation was hard enough to do without his patient slamming up and down on the backboard. The thrashing continued as they latched the stretcher into the truck. Steve jumped in and slammed the doors behind him as Josh trotted to the driver’s side and behind the wheel. He made a U-turn off the side of the road and ma
de his way back towards town.
The denizens of Buchanan County had not yet been made officially aware of what was going on with the early morning rumble of the earth. It was not uncommon to feel the occasional low rumble throughout the mountains of Southwest Virginia; however, this morning’s shaking was a little more than a light wakeup; it was more of a violent jerk back into consciousness. The limited resources of the local police, fire, and rescue were stretched already to the breaking point, and the full scope of what was going on had not yet been established. The resources that they did have were being used to transport the injured to the small hospital on the edge of town, Buchanan General Hospital.
Josh wheeled through town a little quicker than usual with his and Steve’s three passengers. The man that rode shotgun with Josh did not initially seem as bad off as his cohorts did, but was quickly declining. The miner rolled his head back and forth with the curves as Josh sped towards the hospital, his partner Steve working feverishly in the back of the unit. The patient on the stretcher continued his abnormal thrashing and generally irritated behavior. Steve had managed to start an IV on the affected miner and had pushed Valium, to no avail. The man was still in his seizure-like activity, and showed no signs of stopping. Josh periodically looked back through the rearview mirror at Steve working feverishly as he continued through town. More of the fire departments and the police were out and about with their lights and sirens blaring. The radio had not let up from the original amount of traffic that was coming across; the police and other units were still calling for more backup with not much success. Just as they were pulling into the lot the radio squawked, garbled but legible enough to tell that their intended helicopter was being delayed and sent to other locations.
“Shit! Steve, that’s gonna be a negative on the chopper. They said they’ve got bigger fish to fry, more or less.”
Six Feet From Hell: Books 1 - 3 Page 40