The Road to Macon: A Zombie Novel

by Micah Gurley

  The Road to Macon

  A Zombie Novel

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Historical Note

  Authors Note

  Chapter 1

  Kyle pulled his cell phone from his pants, checked the time, and swore. Shouldn’t have hit the snooze that third time. He grabbed his bag and slung it over his shoulder, and headed down the hall to the front door. He stopped by one of the bedrooms and looked around the door that was slightly open.

  His brother had come to visit for the Thanksgiving holidays and he had taken the first part of the week off so that they could surf, and relax together. The holiday weekend wasn’t over, but for him it was. He had to work Sunday and his little brother would leave tomorrow morning. One last barbeque sitting outside and enjoying the cool air that promised the coming of winter.

  “It was time anyways,” he thought, as he stood looking at his brother sleeping. He was starting to get on my nerves. He smiled. They were close for brothers, only one year apart, and they enjoyed doing many of the same things, but their personalities didn’t always mesh and spending six full days together with anyone was a bit much, especially his brother. He heard his brother slightly snoring and smiled to himself. He would have to inform his brother that he did, in fact, snore.

  He turned and walked into the dark bathroom across the hall. He turned on the lights and retreated from the bright aggressiveness of the bulbs. His eyes slowly adjusted and he looked in the mirror. He cringed at his reflection. He had dark circles around his eyes and wondered if that was because it was 6 a.m. or was it that he was just getting old?

  Kyle had just turned thirty and his once slim and muscular form had softened a bit. He stood just under six foot and had dark blond hair that gave prominence to his ever-increasing widow’s peak. He had dark-blue eyes which were surrounded by laugh lines that told much of his personality. He was a guy who enjoyed a laugh. The dark eyes also held something darker, pain. Struggle. He had history that no laugh could take away. Kyle had seen his share of horror but had placed it, with no small struggle, behind him. He gave a smile to his reflection, trying it out for size, and decided it could wait for a while.

  He leaned back and sighed, then he looked over at his still wet towel that hung neatly from the shower pole. He snatched off the pole it was hanging from and threw it in front of his brother’s door. He couldn’t help smiling at the reaction his brother would have when he saw it. He turned off the light, went down the hall, and left the house.

  Kyle dumped his bag into the trunk of his little Civic and jumped into the car. The streets, which were all basically new, were empty and peaceful. He had a good thirty minutes to drive and already he started to feel depressed about having to go to work, already he was missing his brother. As much as his brother got on his nerves, it would be a lonely house without him. “Stinking holidays,” he thought.

  He also couldn’t help feeling a little bitter about his job. Having to go work on a Sunday, or a holiday, just added to his anger. He knew he shouldn’t linger on about the job, especially when so many didn’t have one right now, but it was just boring. “Tough times all around,” he thought.

  He had experienced that the hard way when he was laid off from the community college that he had just started working at. Only six months had he taught. He had finally gotten his dream job, teaching ancient history to students who actually wanted to learn, or at least wanted a good grade. He had strived a long time to reach his goal. During his five years in the army, he really didn’t have the time to do any schoolwork, though he was thankful that they paid for it when he finally was released. Then two years for his graduate degree, and he had gotten the job. And now he was a high-class security guard.

  He was thankful to have found a job so quickly when companies were cutting jobs all over the place. A friend had recommended he use his skills to work for para-military companies that would have been happy to hire him, but he had just bought a house and was not interested in fighting anymore. So, he found the next best thing. BXG Energy Company was the main power company for eastern North Carolina and it had a nuclear plant just outside of Wilmington. Kyle had dropped his application off and was surprised that he had been called the same day. They were happy to have his experience and the money was even better than the community college. He had been here for over a year now and his thankfulness was wearing off, being replaced with restlessness that he wasn’t accomplishing anything important. His job just didn’t matter he thought.

  Not wanting to allow himself to have a pity party, he turned on the radio, scanning for a news station. He listened to the sports, politics, and scandals on a national level, though he couldn’t have told you anything that was said. The news switched to a local station out of Raleigh and they began talking about riots that were happening in cities all over the East Coast. One such riot, which was local, had gotten quite bad. Apparently, a flu was going around that made people sick and aggressive. Kyle thought that an odd mix but didn’t pay much attention to it. People were warned to be alert, and told if they saw or knew anyone who got the flu, to take them immediately to their local hospital. Kyle wasn’t worried much about it, he had been inoculated against most things in the military and he wasn’t prone to getting sick. He didn’t think about it again.

  He turned the radio off as he pulled into the long entrance drive to the hidden plant. He reached the small squat building in the middle of the road and lowered his window.

  “Pushing it man,” the officer said, as he took the badge that Kyle offered him.

  “I know it, how was the night?” he asked, trying to be polite.

  “Nice and quiet,” he said, scanning the badge and handing it back, “finished season three of Dexter.”

  “Aw, that’s a good one. Okay, I’ll catch you later,” Kyle said, as the man gave a nod and headed back inside the small building. He had to hurry.

  Chapter 2

  The fence began to slam. “Yolanda...hold it!” he yelled, as he watched the heavy metal gate slam in front of him.

  “Sorry,” came the reply, from a short, black woman with neatly spaced cornrows. She smiled smugly, waiting as he pulled his badge and swiped the access to allow him through the door. She was a head shorter than Kyle and quite “pudgy” around the middle, as she called it. She had a round face with a wide smile that was full of mischievous promises.

  “Your smile doesn’t seem to suggest it,” he returned with a smirk. It seemed that he was always walking in with her, as both of them seemed to find the idea of time management a difficult concept.

  “Come on now Professor, don’t be like that. I tried the best I could,” she still smiled as she answered, and they both turned away from the main checkpoint they had just exited. He rolled his eyes at the nickname she had given him, though at one time it had appealed to his vanity. When he first started this job, he was so depressed that life had brought him here, that anything positive, sarcastic or not, was something for him to grab onto. Soon, however, the nickname caught on with his whole team and the crowning glory was his lieutenant asking every morning if he had anything to share with the class. It was all good natured
but he wished they would move on to the next joke.

  “Have you forgotten my real name?” he asked, as they walked over large and unwieldy rocks that were technically a walkway. The two were close and spent time together, along with others, at parties and get-togethers, but she had never used his first name that he could remember.

  “Of course, I do Smalls,” she laughed. He grinned and wondered why he even asked the question. It was a tough name to have sometimes. They were nearing the entrance to the security building but needed to go up and over the vehicle barrier system or VBS, which was really just two extremely-thick cables that surrounded the most vital areas of the plant. Supposedly, it could stop a school bus going 50 mph but Kyle never seen a video of that.

  “I meant my first name.”

  “Kyle,” she returned quickly with another smile. “You ain’t the only smart one out here.” She started up the stairs.

  “Touché,” he answered, ignoring the stairs and stepping over the cables. Kyle might have been his first name, but everyone here either used last names or nicknames that were bestowed upon them. More than half of the security force was ex-military, so using last names was a natural thing for them. Kyle doubted if he knew more than half of his team’s first names.

  Kyle followed her through the heavy metal door into a medium-sized room containing a tall metal shelf on one wall that was full of backpacks and lunch boxes. The rest of the walls were taken up with small lockers that were stacked three high. There were only two others in the room besides himself, one being Yolanda, who was well on her way to suiting up. He walked over to his locker and quickly spun his lock; thankfully this wasn’t one of those random moments when he would forget the combination of something that he used every day for over a year. Opening the small locker, he pulled out his hip holder gun belt and strapped it on. He hated the thing.

  When he first started, he couldn’t help but feel a little bit of the stud walking around loaded for bear, but the feeling wore off as his hip and back started to pay the price. The belt was made of a thick material, though he had no idea what it was. On the side of the belt, a strap hung down six inches to a hard plastic gun holster, which he tied off around his leg. The belt also contained a pouch for his pepper spray, handcuffs, and two extra magazines. It was not a light ego boost. He snapped the belt shut, just taking a little breath in and grabbed his bulletproof vest. It was one of the newer ones that wouldn’t give as you put it on. He missed his old one that served as a jacket when he got cold at his post. Pull your arms in and you were well warmed and protected.

  Kyle quickly followed Yolanda out of the room and down the hall to the briefing room. Too late. He entered the room and his lieutenant was standing at the front and gave him a big smile.

  “Welcome Professor,” he said. “We were just about to start and I believe you just did make it, as another late would affect your review.” He winked at Kyle and added, "But since you're here, we could all do with a little of that wisdom of yours. Do you have anything for us this morning?"

  Kyle grimaced. As far as he knew, he was the only one who had been subjected to this little round of theatrics as a punishment. Then he smiled, "As a matter of fact I do Lieutenant."

  The lieutenant smiled back and called everyone to attention, "Mr. Smalls has this morning's encouraging word," as if he were introducing a preacher on a Sunday morning.

  Kyle tuned to look at the room, full with smiling and smirking faces. He paused dramatically and lifted his head, "Happiness can be found, even in the darkest of times, if only one remembers to turn on the light." He let his head drop slightly for a little theatrical finish. He turned and gave a big smile to the lieutenant.

  "Hmm, that was good, who said that?"

  "Professor Dumbledore," Kyle answered.

  The old lieutenant gave Kyle a confused look, which quickly turned into a scowl. "Sit down Professor."

  "Yes sir."

  Kyle quickly sat down in his usual seat next to Tim, the laughter in the room finishing. Tim and he had been hired together and then spent the next eight weeks going through training, mostly on the gun range. He was a quiet guy, not really saying much unless you asked him something. He was one of the soft-spoken country boys that Kyle had grown up with. He was a little taller than Kyle, not fat but no track runner either. He was going a little bald on top, something which gave the other officers much to work with. Kyle didn’t have much in common with the guy, but despite that, they got on well. He was also an amazing foosball player, and his skills had gotten them both plenty of free lunches.

  "Ever read the Harry Potter books?" asked Kyle, getting situated.

  "Nope," answered Tim.

  "Seen the movies?"

  "Nope."

  "Okay, good talk." said Kyle, giving Tim an elbow in the side.

  He took a quick look around the room, nodding in greeting to a few friends. Fox team, his team was one of four teams that worked at the plant. Their job: to protect vital equipment that could cause a lot of harm if it fell in the wrong hands. It was an important job, he guessed, but he couldn’t help still feeling depressed about it. Still, he worked with good people, people who would help you if you needed it.

  He leaned back in his chair. Though there were days it was hard to be here, he was comfortable with it now. It was an old glove. It was also easy and it gave him time to catch up on a lot of TV shows that he had missed over the years.

  “Everyone pay attention to this,” commanded the lieutenant, with his get-serious tone. He was fairly used to people zoning out during the morning briefings and wanted them all to get this. He looked at some papers in his hand, “There is a virus on the Eastern Seaboard and that is causing severe sickness and aggression. We have been warned by local law to watch out for symptoms like this. It’s been spotted here in Carolina so be on the lookout. It’s a Sunday, after a holiday, so there shouldn’t be many people coming in, don’t let that be a reason to not pay attention on post.“ He looked through a few papers and then started talking about something else.

  The meeting continued on as Kyle’s thoughts drifted. He wasn’t too worried about this new disease. He knew there were dangerous ones out there, but there had been so many scares and they all came out to nothing. In any case, there was nothing he could do about it.

  The meeting ended and he took a quick look at his posts for the day. “Not too bad,” he thought, as he stood in line for the sidearm. The daily ritual of picking up your gun was a time for rough jokes and friendly banter. It was something Kyle enjoyed unless it was aimed at him. He received his gun, pepper spray, and extra magazines for the weapon, and headed to his first post.

  There were twenty-five different posts in various positions in the plant. Some of these were patrolling posts, while others were in a small little rooms whose paint job was taken from The Smurf's vibrant skin. The plant was a maze of razor wire, delay gates, and security doors. It took Kyle five minutes to get to his post. It should have only taken a minute or two, being that it was only fifteen feet away, but the delay gates did their job and slowed him down. Not really the job they were intended for. The idea was simple and effective. Anyone attacking the plant had to either blow the things up or take their time to unlatch all of them as they went through, which gave the defenders more of an opportunity to take them down. It seemed to work during the drills they had.

  Kyle arrived at XR-12. It was a small little side room, under some metal emergency stairs, which was desired by all the officers. Simply put, it was a hideaway that had a small TV. You could watch as long as you scanned your cameras every five minutes. Kyle opened the door and greeted the outgoing officer that he had seen a few times.

  “Morning," he called out, "everything good?” He dropped his bag on the floor.

  “Yeah man, there are some movies in the drawer of the desk if you want,” he responded, as he handed Kyle the radio. He nodded at Kyle and was gone.

  Kyle sat down and did a quick check to make sure that he had everything he
needed; he looked at the guns and decided he would check them in a bit. For now, he was tired. He leaned back in his chair and thought again of his brother before he closed his eyes. He was tired, maybe a short nap in a bit.

  “XR-12 is 10-12,” he called in to the command center to let them know he had arrived and everything was good. At least he hoped his guns were in good working order, though he didn’t hope enough to actually check them. He was tired.

  “Copy that XR-12, you’re 10-12,” the voice answered. Now the nap. Kyle's eyes closed and he drifted off to sleep.

  Chapter 3

  A door slamming shut brought him out of the chair in a fright. His eyes jumping open to the person standing in front of him.

  “Gotcha that time Professor,” he laughed. “You came right awake boy.” He kept laughing as he dropped his things and walked to the microwave at the back of the room. The officer was short and bulky, with unruly black hair that seemed to have spread like a virus all over his neck and arms. He was still laughing as he popped a microwave meal in and set the time.

  “Morning Eric. Thanks for delicacy,” Kyle said, his heart, just now slowing down. He didn’t like to sleep that deeply while on post, but the first few hours sometimes got him.

  Eric laughed heartily again, “Couldn’t help it, I looked in the window and saw your mouth all hanging down and drooling. Never seen you looking so un-professor like. Thought I would get your heart pumping. Besides, I think I owed you one.”

  Kyle laughed, “That’s true, though I think you came off a little better than me.” Eric had only been at the plant for about six months and during his training Kyle had given him some advice that had led Eric to showing up for work on a day where he was supposed to be off.

  “Hardly, I’m still getting if from people on the other team. They keep asking me if I’m going to switch teams this week. You need to get one of the new guys in training.” Kyle didn’t feel too bad for him, especially after his wake up call.