The Z-Day Trilogy (Book 5): United States of Zombie

by Mark Cusco Ailes

  Donnie shook his head in disbelief. “All right, but don’t blame me if something happens to you.”

  “Don’t worry. I won’t.”

  General Milkwood watched as the bus stopped in front of the hangar and the door slid open. He was ready for a fight. His plans for the future didn’t include Donnie Jorsen, and he was going to let him know it. He was responsible for everything happening in America and almost brought his plan to a grinding halt. He watched as Donnie got out of the bus and made his way into the hangar. He stopped in front of him instantly recognizing him. “General Milkwood. You’re the last man I was hoping to see today.” He watched as General Milkwood raised his sidearm to his head.

  “I should shoot you right here where you stand, Mr. Jorsen. Too many good officers have died as a result of what you did in Valparaiso. General Poe was my good friend.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” said Donnie sarcastically. “You’re forgetting one thing. I wasn’t the one who created the zombies in the first place. You and the rest of your evil empire did. Zombies should never have been created in the first place. All the innocent people who have died as a result are on your hands. I wasn’t the one who created them!”

  “But you were the one who released them. If you hadn’t done so, nobody would have died. It’s true, we’re the ones who created them, but you were the one who freed them. They wouldn’t have gotten free. Everything would have worked according to plan if you hadn’t meddled in our affair…”

  “You meddled with science! If God had wanted zombies infecting his creation, they would have been here already! You’re not God!”

  “No! I’m a higher authority than God! God fears me!”

  Donnie couldn’t believe what he was hearing. How dare he claim something as blasphemous as that? “You better watch what you’re saying. God just might strike you down where you stand.”

  He took a step toward Donnie as Angelo stepped in between them. “None of this matters anymore. What is done has already been done. The only thing that matters now is our survival. All I want to do is get out of here before the zombies discover us here. This thing you have against each other has to wait until another time.”

  “Angelo is right,” said Martina, snapping out of the trance she had been in. “I don’t want to die today. I don’t want to be ripped apart by zombies. I want to live.” She looked at the general. “Please lower your gun and leave him alone. He rescued us, and now you want to kill him. We should be giving him an award.”

  “With all due respect, ma’am, you don’t fully understand what this man has done,” said General Milkwood. “The reason you’re here is because of what he did.”

  She moved closer to the general. “And we know what you did! As I see it, you’re both at fault. We don’t have time to play the blame game. We need to get the hell out of here and go wherever you’re planning on going. I’m not planning on dying in a filthy hangar!”

  The general lowered his weapon and looked at Donnie. “This isn’t over, not by a longshot. We’ll finish this once we get to the island.” He turned to look at Hays. “Can we speed this up? We need to leave sooner than you planned.”

  “Ask Donnie. If he says we’re ready, we’ll leave right away.”

  The general looked at Donnie. “Well, can we leave?”

  “We need one more supply run. We’ll leave tomorrow. I only have a few more things we need to get before we leave,” said Donnie, staring straight into General Milkwood’s eyes. “I hope you’re not planning on getting in my way, general. If you do, it’s going to take longer to get out of here.”

  The general holstered his sidearm. “No, I won’t get in your way. In fact, I’m going to help you so we can get out of here sooner.”

  “I don’t need your help. I have Angelo to help me.”

  “I’m sure three of us can get more done in a timely manner. We’re not going to discuss this. I’m coming with you and that’s my final word.”

  “He’s right, Donnie,” said Angelo. “We could have used his help before. Besides, we can cover more ground with his help.”

  Donnie thought about it. With a third person they could accomplish more than they could with two. Not to mention they would have somebody to cover their backs if something happened. “Just as long as you don’t get in the way.”

  “You’re going to have to work on your trust issues,” said General Milkwood. “Now, are we going to stand here all day or are we going to get this thing done?”

  Donnie glared at him. He knew what was going to be involved with an officer hanging around, and he didn’t like the thought of it. He didn’t need somebody barking orders. He knew what needed to get accomplished, and he didn’t need somebody reminding him every five minutes. He looked at Angelo. At least he knew he was on his side and would follow his lead. “All right, Mr. Milkwood, let’s move out.”

  “That’s General Milkwood. I’ve earned my title.”

  Donnie laughed. “You’ve earned nothing.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Mrs. Tracee Smith knew there were boxes of candles in the back storage area. They were stored there to be used for special occasions. It was one of those special occasions. It was dark inside the cafeteria, but she knew her way back to the storage area. She could hear a zombie pounding on the door leading inside the cafeteria. With the zombie at the main door and at least two outside the back door, she knew they were trapped. Not to mention the fact they were without power and cell service. Their survival now fell in her lap once again. She wasn’t sure she knew what to do in the situation, but she did know she needed to keep her students calm. Nothing would be able to get accomplished if she lost control. She used the wall to guide her to the back area and to the storage area. She needed to focus on getting some candles lit so she could assess her situation. She found a box of candles on one of the shelves and snatched it along with a box of kitchen matches and took them over to a metal table. She placed the items on it and snatched a candle and lit it with one of the matches. She now had some light to work with. Even though it was dim, it was better than being left in total darkness. She stood holding the candle trying to figure out what she was going to do next. She wished something in the teacher’s manual explained how to survive a zombie outbreak. Her mind was a jumbled mess. She had already lost a couple of students and she was worried she would lose more if she didn’t make some kind of decision before it was too late. The longer she pondered, the more likely something was going to happen. She wanted to cry, but she knew it wouldn’t get her anywhere. She wasn’t left with a choice, but to remain strong. If she showed any sign of weakness in front of her students, she was sure they would lose faith in her. She stared toward the back door where she last saw Ralph being attacked. She thought about taking her chances and trying to get her students out the door, but she was absolutely sure there were more zombies out there waiting for them to leave the safety of the cafeteria. The only hope they had was for help to arrive and find them. She snatched the box of candles and the matches and took them back to the others. She handed one of her students the box of candles and the matches and told him to pass them out. She hoped having a lit candle would provide some comfort for the moment. She watched as the candles were passed around and lit. Beyond that, she didn’t have any plans on what they should do next.

  “Where’s Ralph,” she heard someone ask. She forgot that none of them had been informed about what had happened to him, and she didn’t want them to know the truth. She looked at them while searching for the right words to say. She had to tell them something to sugarcoat the fact he had been attacked by zombies. “He escaped through the back door.”

  “That sounds like Ralph,” she heard someone say.

  “We should do the same,” she heard another say.

  She wished it could be as easy as that. She should have expected that remark knowing she had left out the part about him being attacked by zombies. “We can’t,” she finally said. “It’s just too dangerous to leave the scho
ol right now. We’re safer here. At least we don’t have any zombies inside with us.”

  “But we’re trapped. We don’t have anywhere to go if they get inside,” said one of the students. She could hear the panic in her voice. “I just want to go home.”

  “So do I,” she responded. “But I’m afraid there might not be any of our homes to go back to. You do remember what is happening out there.”

  “But Ralph got out of here. If he made it, we can make it. We should leave now before it’s too late.”

  She knew she had to tell the truth about what had happened to Ralph. If she didn’t, she knew they would keep pushing the issue. “Ralph’s dead,” she blurted out without thinking. She didn’t mean to be so blunt, but what other choice did she have? “It’s his fault. They got him the minute he opened the back door.”

  “What do you mean?”

  She hadn’t anticipated the question. She already explained to them what had happened. She didn’t feel she needed to go into the details. “The zombies got him. Please, let’s just leave it at that. You don’t need to know any of the details. Let’s just say leaving through that door isn’t an option. Our only choice is to stay here and wait for help.”

  “But nobody knows we’re here. They might think we’re still in the classroom.”

  “I’m sure whoever comes to help us will search every area inside the school. I’m sure they’ll realize people will be trying to find safer areas to hide. I’m sure they will find us.”

  “You don’t know that for sure. You’re just guessing somebody will find us. Why would they come looking for us, anyway? If there are a lot of zombies out there, I’m sure there won’t be anybody left to find us. We’re trapped inside here.”

  She hated to admit it, but what he was saying made perfect sense. The police and fire rescue were going to have their hands full. They were probably not thinking about any of the schools or the people that could be trapped inside them. And she didn’t know if any of them were still alive. She could hear the panic spreading across the room. She was losing control. Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of gunfire outside the door leading to the hallway, followed by pounding on the door. “The school has been cleared from zombies. We’re locking down the school. Go back to your classrooms and somebody will come to speak to the class.”

  Mrs. Smith was relieved to hear the news, but she couldn’t see who had told her to go back to her classroom. But it didn’t matter. All she knew was the zombies inside the school had been dealt with. “You heard the man, let’s get back to our classroom.”

  Chapter Twelve

  The main road was blocked by several burning cars as General Cochran brought the bus to a stop. If they were going to make it to the airport, they would have to continue on foot. He couldn’t see any way around it. From his seat he could see several zombies trapped inside various cars, clawing at the windows and trying to find a way out of their tombs. He turned to look at Sergeant Hardwick. “It’s time to earn your paycheck once again.”

  “Damn! We’re so close to the objective. I hope I have enough ammunition to get there in one piece.”

  “We’ll have to make due for now. We should be able to reach the airport on foot. We’ll have to go across country.”

  Sergeant Hardwick stood up and made his way to the front of the bus. He looked at the general. “Brains before officers.” He opened the door and jumped off of the bus and immediately punched a nearby zombie in the face, snapping its neck on impact. “One down ̶ countless others to go.” He looked around. Even though he didn’t convey it, he was a hundred percent sure there’d be a horde of walking dead on them in a few minutes. He knew they had a few miles to walk to reach the airport. “Stay alert. Use your ears more than your eyes–you can’t always trust what you see.”

  The rest of the soldiers piled out of the bus followed by the general. They stood peering in every direction as if they were expecting more unwanted company. The general pushed past them. “Here’s the situation.” He said it loud enough so they could hear him, but low enough not to alert any zombie that might be shambling in earshot of them. “As we all know, our mission is to rendezvous at the airport with General Milkwood. From there we’re getting out of this zombie infected country.”

  The soldiers standing around him nodded somberly. They didn’t need to be reminded what their objective was ̶ or what they were going to encounter along the way. Off in the distance they heard rapid gunfire.

  “Somebody is having some fun,” remarked Sergeant Hardwick. “I hope they take out a dozen or so zombies for us. Hell, I hope they clear a complete path for us.”

  “I wouldn’t count on it, sergeant,” said General Cochran. “If they’re civilians, they’ll meet their maker before you know it.”

  “I don’t think you give them enough credit. They could be ex-military.”

  “Well, I still wouldn’t count on them. Besides, judging by where the shots were fired, they’re in the opposite direction.”

  “Aren’t you the bearer of bad news. Thanks for ruining my day.” The sergeant took a step forward. “Do you want to take the lead?”

  “No, sarge, I’ll leave that job to you.”

  “I thought as much.” He took a couple of steps forward before speaking once again. “You know, sir, I wanted to mention to you that you look tired. When’s the last time you had a good night’s rest?”

  “It’s been a couple of days.” He thought about the last time he had any real rest. Ever since the zombie outbreak, he had been put on alert and sent to protect the city. In situations like these, you never knew when you would have an opportunity to rest. You never had the opportunity to sit back and put your feet up. Being productive on little sleep was how he was trained. In war, you never knew when you would have a moment of peace. He followed his men as they went east away from the highway. He liked their chances of going cross country. If they were lucky, they would leave the main concentration of zombies behind them. He never thought the country would come to this. When General Poe and General Milkwood first told him about how they wanted to create zombies to use as weapons and take over the world, he thought they had gone mad. When they actually created the first zombie, he was intrigued, but deep down he suspected there could be major ramifications. He didn’t realize at the time it would turn into the dead infecting the country, but he should have suspected as much. There couldn’t be any possible way of controlling something that had been brought back from the pits of hell. Now he was witnessing firsthand what happens when mankind meddles with the supernatural. His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of growling coming from behind the bus. He turned and looked and stood transfixed on the abomination that came into view. It was an unholy creature with blood trickling from its lips, and it was missing one of its eyes. It moved slowly toward him, opening and closing its eye spasmodically. Its movements were clumsy, and he figured it was the result of losing both of its arms. It looked as though they had been forcibly removed. It was focused on him and moved toward him with a purpose. He had never encountered an enemy of this magnitude and it frightened him. He wasn’t easily frightened and he hated to admit it, but zombies were creatures of nightmares. He raised his sidearm instinctively, but he was pushed aside by Sergeant Hardwick. He watched as the sergeant planted his survival knife to the handle through the creature’s skull. He forcibly removed it and let the creature topple to the ground. He wiped the blade on the sleeve of his camouflage shirt and stared at the general.

  “It’s not a puppy, sir. You have to kill it the minute you see it. It’s exactly what it wants to do to you.”

  He stared at the sergeant. He didn’t have to remind him what he needed to do. Killing was what he was trained to do. He was trained to kill without remorse, but killing zombies was somehow different. He heard more growling coming from behind the bus. It was now time for them to move out of the area and get to the airport. The longer they dawdled, the more zombies would realize they were there. Sergeant Hardwick took
the lead. He knew he didn’t want to be out in the open with the zombies, but he was resilient. He was the man you wanted near you when all hell broke loose. He stole a glance back toward the bus. A couple more zombies came into view. He didn’t worry about them ̶ they were slow. What he had to worry about was getting to the airport in time. He knew General Milkwood wasn’t a patient man and would leave without him if he didn’t arrive in a reasonable amount of time. He didn’t blame him. He would do the exact same thing if the roles were reversed. He knew the kind of man General Milkwood was, and he knew the kind of friend he was. That was what worried him. He was putting a lot of trust in him. If they were even just thirty seconds late…well, he hoped they wouldn’t be late. He kept his attention on the task at hand and ignored the fact there were zombies behind them. He ignored the urge to turn and splay bullets in their direction. He ignored the fact he was worried they wouldn’t make it to the airport. He also ignored the fact he was worried his friend would turn his back on him and leave him in the middle of the zombie apocalypse.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Jewel stared at Pastor Zobrist as he appeared to be lost in prayer. He looked calm, and she couldn’t understand how he could look so calm while the world around him was falling to pieces. She was a nervous wreck and wanted nothing more than to hide under a rock and wait for the worst of it to be over.

  “God keeps me calm,” said the pastor never opening his eyes.

  She wondered how he knew she was staring at him. As far as she knew, his eyes had never moved, not even a slight twitch. “How did you…”

  “How did I know you’ve been watching me? I could feel your stare. I sense you have many questions. I have many questions as well. I’m just like you. I have inquisitive thoughts that need answers. Even though I’m a man of God, I’m still only human and don’t understand everything I see.” He opened his eyes and looked at her. “I don’t have the answers to everything. That is why I pray and ask God for the answers I’m seeking.”