Zombie Crusade: Evolution

by J. W. Vohs

  “We did receive an interesting bit of information from a guy broadcasting from a cabin in western New Jersey. His wife was Jewish, and she’d been able to contact a sister in Israel about two weeks into the outbreak. She said that the virus had spread through the country from Tel Aviv and Jerusalem, but some of the kibbutzim were holding out. I guess that makes sense, since plenty of them were self-sustaining and everyone was armed to the teeth. Plus, a lot of them were in deserts and such. So hopefully, the Israelis will eventually get things together, but we haven’t heard from anyone over there, and our friend in New Jersey stopped transmitting about a week after he shared that information. His last transmission was pretty interesting, but we’re not sure what to make of it. Said he counted fourteen black helicopters heading west, then the transmission cut off and we haven’t heard a word from him since.”

  Jack glanced over at Carter, who gave him a quizzical look as Sal kept the information coming.

  “Out here in Utah we’re holding on. The virus hit Salt Lake City hard and most of the city eventually burnt, but the suburbs up in the hills and many of the small towns in the state have survived. We’ve put together militias and are trying to clean up the valley. Not enough ammo so we’re using hand-held weapons. Our fighters are using all kinds of things for protection, but the infected keep growing stronger, and we keep losing people. Sooner or later we’ll have the valley infection free, but winter is going to be tough out here.”

  “Heating concerns?” Jack asked.

  “No, not really, everyone’s preparing for wood and coal burning, we’re just worried about food.”

  “I thought all Mormons were supposed to store a year’s worth of food?”

  Sonny let out a grim chuckle, “And Baptists aren’t supposed to smoke or drink. You know how it is, some people went overboard with preps and others didn’t do much at all. Plus, plenty of people out here aren’t Mormons. Anyway, most folks have been really good about pooling resources like food and weapons, but we don’t have enough for a year. We should have enough protein, especially with all of the cattle in this state, but we are already low on grains. I don’t see how we’ll have any bread at all in a few months. And the infected have taken a big bite out of the livestock population, if you’ll pardon the pun.”

  Jack sighed, “Well, our farmers had the planting done weeks before the outbreak occurred, and we’ve had enough rain to make the corn and beans grow. As far as I know, the whole Midwest is full of grain that will mostly rot in the fields.”

  “You still have diesel for the tractors?” Sonny inquired.

  “Yeah, the diesel is holding up fine. We just take generators to gas stations and turn on the pumps. I see where you’re going with this. Yeah, we could conduct a limited harvest around here, but we have less than six hundred people in our group. Security would have to be extremely heavy around those fields with all the racket combines make, and we just won’t be able to get much of the crop in.”

  Sonny hesitated a minute, “Yeah, I see your problem. Listen, I want to tell our leaders everything I’ve learned from you and have them talk to you themselves. Can we contact you at the same time tomorrow night?”

  “Sure, I mean, I don’t know much about radio; do we have to worry about atmospheric conditions or anything?”

  “Sometimes,” Sonny explained, “just to be safe why don’t we agree to connect at the same time every night for a while?”

  “Sounds good,” Jack agreed, “we’ll look forward to hearing from you. Eight o’ clock our time sound good?”

  “That’ll work; we’ll give you a call at eight. Salt Lake Sonny out.”

  The rest of the night and much of the next day was filled with people sharing and speculating about the news from the radio conversation with Salt Lake Sonny as they went about their daily routines. Joe Reed had been infused with a new sense of hope and purpose after learning that his daughters and grandchildren were alive and well out in Utah, though he was saddened to learn that his sons-in-law had been killed in the fighting.

  Many members of the Mormon congregation had family in Utah, and they were excited to discover that the state was fighting back with the help of the people and resources of the church. The poor bishop was literally swamped with requests to ask about family and friends out west, so he asked Jack about the possibility of radio access for members of his ward. Jack suggested that the bishop organize some sort of schedule with Joe that wouldn’t interfere with what he called, for lack of a better term, “official business.”

  In addition to developing a list of talking points for the next conversation with the Utah Resistance, Jack, David, and Carter discussed the odd mention of helicopters over New Jersey. Carter said he didn’t really know what to make of it. “People really wanna believe that the virus didn’t make it to Australia, or that the government is gonna fly in and rescue everybody. Till I see or hear somethin’ flyin’ around fer myself, I’m not worryin’ about it.”

  Jack nodded, “Yeah, the zombies may be evolving, but I don’t think they’ve learned to pilot aircraft, and if some other hostile force is attempting an invasion the flesh-eaters will give them a proper welcome. If there really were any helicopters, chances are that it was a V.I.P. evacuation.”

  “So you think our top-level government officials managed to escape to some emergency retreat?” David asked.

  Carter cut in, “What’s it matter if they did? Just cuz they mighta managed to salvage a few expensive toys don’t mean squat. It’s purty obvious the old government is useless.”

  “Whatever that guy did or didn’t see in New Jersey, I agree that it isn’t relevant to us right now.” Jack surveyed the notebook he was carrying. “Our next order of business is hammering out the timetable for the trip back to meet up with Father O’Brien and that settlement on Middle Bass Island.”

  When David’s group had left Father O’Brien behind, the priest had agreed to return to Maumee Bay in his yacht every Monday until mid-October in order to meet the people David had promised to send back. The main question concerned finalizing who would make the trip. Ultimately they decided to ask Luke and Gracie to coordinate the expedition and ask for volunteers from the Rangers at The Castle to accompany them.

  When the teens were approached about the mission they were ecstatic, wanting to leave that very night but accepting Jack’s advice that a little planning and preparation was needed before they could take off. When word got out about the impending trip to Toledo, Jack was swarmed by dozens of people who wanted to go along. David had told him that floating the river to Maumee Bay would be a breeze except for the dangers of the portages, but the return trip upstream would be brutally demanding for whomever they chose to accompany Luke and Gracie. By evening it was decided that three canoes would make the journey, with Bobby, Todd, Marcus, and against Christy’s vehement objections, David, being the other four team members. Jack didn’t like being without three squad leaders and six of his fiercest fighters for a week, but he also wanted the best soldiers to accompany his brother and the young couple he’d basically adopted.

  Christy cornered Jack in the kitchen when he stopped to grab a quick cup of coffee after dinner. “Jack, we both know there is plenty of room for me to go on the trip to Toledo, and we both know I have experience on the rivers. I’m telling you right now, I am going with David and the team.”

  Jack avoided looking directly at her when he listed the various reasons she needed to stay behind. “A six person team makes sense as far as boats and supplies are concerned, and my men need to get some experience on the rivers too. Your mom needs you here after all she’s been through, plus you’ve been under the weather lately and might not be at your physical best . . .”

  With one fluid movement, Christy kicked the back of Jack’s knees and shoved him face-first into the floor, somehow managing to rescue the coffee cup without spilling a drop. Jack was flabbergasted, “What the . . . have you lost your mind?”

  “I guess that was unexpected from someo
ne not at her physical best,” her voice dripped with sarcasm. She offered her hand to help Jack back to his feet, and he warily accepted.

  “Jesus, Christy, does David know you’re a maniac?”

  “David knows I’m good at proving a point. Now, look me in the eye and tell me why you really don’t want me to go on this trip. Don’t you trust me? Do you think I can’t handle myself? David said you were going to keep our team together, so what changed your mind?”

  Jack was tongue-tied as Christy narrowed her eyes and fixed him in a steely stare. “I . . . it’s . . . well . . . it’s really nothing personal . . .” he stammered.

  “Good, then there’s no reason to deviate from your original intention to keep MY team together. You can ask one of your guys to stay behind if you really think seven people make an unmanageable team, but I’m fine with Bobby, Todd, and Marcus joining us.” She handed Jack his coffee. “Isn’t it about time to check in with Utah?”

  With eight o’ clock approaching, the usual crowd gathered around the radio in the barracks and waited for Salt Lake Sonny to transmit. He was right on time.

  “Hey Jack, I got someone here with a higher pay-grade than mine to talk with you. Here he is.”

  The voice that came across the air was calm and serene, “Mr. Smith, I’m Stephen Carlson; it’s a pleasure to speak with you, sir.”

  Jack immediately liked the guy, “The pleasure’s mine, Mr. Carlson, and believe me, I’m surrounded by about six hundred people who are excited beyond description over the fact that our two groups have found one another. Also, please call me Jack; Mr. Smith is way too formal in today’s world.”

  “Ah,” Carlson chuckled, “I’ll call you Jack if you’ll promise to call me Stephen.”

  “Deal,” Jack declared.

  “So, Jack, Sonny tells me that the Midwest farmers managed to plant their crops before the outbreak?”

  “Yes sir, at least around here they did, and the fields were planted between here and Cleveland too. The local farmers usually have most everything in the ground by mid-May, and the virus didn’t hit till the end of the month. We’re literally surrounded by corn and bean fields that are mostly going to rot come winter.”

  “Well,” Carlson replied, “I have an offer for you to consider. After learning of the condition of the crops in your area, I spoke with a number of people whose opinions I value and trust. They have informed me that we may be able to move freight trains your way with a bit of work on the tracks between you and us. As I understand the situation, we would need to send knowledgeable workers on locomotives along the line, accompanied by adequate security of course, to inspect the conditions of the rails and manually operate the switches to allow the trains to travel along the most direct route between Salt Lake and Fort Wayne. I realize that Fort Wayne itself is probably overrun at this time, but if my information is correct you are actually a respectable distance west of the city?”

  Jack was floored by the possibilities running through his mind concerning a train connection to Utah, but finally he gathered himself together. “Yes sir, we’re about forty miles northwest of Fort Wayne, and there are functional tracks throughout northeast Indiana. It’s possible that some of our people have experience with the railroads and we could actually meet you somewhere along the route.”

  They could hear Carlson chuckling again, “A bit of history repeating itself, Jack. Have you enjoyed the opportunity to visit our beautiful state before?”

  “Unfortunately not. Changed flights in the airport a few times but that was it.”

  “Well, not too many miles north of where I currently sit lies the exact location where the first transcontinental railroad was joined together with the legendary golden spike. I daresay that our current endeavor is of even more importance than that first effort to join east and west.”

  “I would definitely agree with that. So once we’re connected by rail, we still would be totally short of the manpower that would be needed to harvest and ship the amount of grain that you’re probably hoping for. How many people are still alive out there?”

  Carlson released a weary sigh, “We believe that perhaps a million people are still alive in Utah and the surrounding states. As you probably are aware, the Mormon Church has always encouraged its members to maintain a one-year food supply, and most people added weapons and medical supplies to their preparations over the years. Also, during the past few decades hundreds of thousands of Americans relocated to the mountain regions out here, many of them survivalists or preppers to some degree. We are working to establish contact with these people, but an accurate count of their numbers is completely impossible at this point in time. There are plenty of individuals, families, and communities who have survived the apocalypse just fine on their own, and the last thing they want to see right now is a group of meddling Mormons coming down their driveways and trails. Our current procedure is to spread the word that we offer medical services, food, shelter, and security, with no demands other than that we promise to work together to push back the infected. Winter will undoubtedly increase the number of people interested in establishing alliances with us.

  “As for the those currently joined to our cause, we have around seven hundred thousand. Virtually all of them are working to improve our chances of survival in some way. We have an army, an agricultural and water department, medical service, housing team . . . well, I’m sure you get the idea. Right now, the bishops of the surviving Mormon churches are working closely with the remnants of local law enforcement and other political authorities to administrate services and maintain order. Basically, we’ve been busy trying to integrate hundreds of informal militias that sprung up as everything collapsed during the early days of the outbreak. Churches, private homesteads, ranches, and even quite a few isolated small towns managed to keep the infection at bay and have been finding one another ever since.

  “We have plans for an eventual elected legislature, but to be completely honest, present authority stems from a council of leaders from the largest groups of survivors. Personally, I’m a fifty year-old former SEAL officer, and a wayward Mormon from a small town up in the Cache Valley. One of my old buddies from the Navy worked with some of the wounded Marines from that first attack in Afghanistan and shared his concerns with me. For some reason I believed he was onto something so I immediately started getting people organized in Logan and the surrounding areas. I taught several classes at Utah State, so I had a lot of young people who were willing to listen to an old SEAL when most Americans still thought the government would figure everything out and save them. Within a week I had patrols and guards set up in the mountain passes, and once we had the Cache Valley secured we moved down toward Salt Lake to see what we could do to help.

  “Salt Lake City had suffered the same fate as the rest of America’s big metro areas, but many of the churches in the suburbs and surrounding towns had banded together and were fighting back. Most of the top Mormon leadership was lost when Salt Lake fell, so the resistance was spontaneous and informal. We’ve been working ever since to organize and pull together to kill the infected and provide basic needs for survivors. We’ve pretty much won the defensive war—the Wasatch Front and the Cache Valley are basically free of flesh-eaters at this point. So far, the infected don’t like water or mountains, so we’ve been able to use geography to help keep them contained. Sooner or later though, we hope to establish an offensive against the creatures and reclaim more land.”

  “What exactly is the Wasatch Front ?” Jack interrupted.

  “Oh, sure,” Stephen explained, “since you haven’t ever been out here I shouldn’t expect you to know what area I’m talking about. Most of Utah’s population lies between the foothills of the Wasatch Mountains and the Salt Lake a few miles to the west, so we just call that corridor the Wasatch front. Logan dominates the Cache Valley, which lies east of the Wasatch Mountains.”

  “Okay,” Jack slowly replied as he formed a mental map of the area. “I can see it in my mind now; please g
o on.”

  “The government failed these folks at every level, Jack, and the survivors are alive today because they organized a resistance and fought their own war against the infected. Heck, we’re still fighting. We all understand that working together improves our chances of long-term survival, so we find a way to get along. I guess I’ve become sort of a de facto leader because me and my group won some big battles and earned the respect of the others, but I’m anxiously awaiting the day when we can elect a government and establish a separation of military and civilian leadership.”

  Jack found himself smiling as he thought about the intelligence of the man on the other end of the connection. “Seems like you folks are doing a lot of things right out there, and believe me, I completely understand your reluctance to lead. Anyway, concerning the movement of Midwest crops in your direction, I’m guessing that you’re offering to send the manpower we’d need to get the job done?”

  “Yes I am, Jack. We have farmers, soldiers, doctors, whatever you need.”

  “Well,” Jack replied, “let me talk with our people and see what we can do on our end concerning the railroads. We have two doctors, a dentist, and several nurses, but there may be medicines or other supplies you could help us with. We had prepared for something like this so we had most of our needs covered at the beginning of the outbreak, but I didn’t plan on taking care of six hundred people.”

  “I understand, and yes, we should be able to help with your medical needs. We have several hospitals fully staffed and operational, and while there are plenty of drugs and medical devices we won’t be able to acquire in the near future, we do believe we have secured a steady source for many types of antibiotics and pain medicines. I’ll further consult with our people concerning the railroad possibilities and hopefully have more concrete information tomorrow evening. If you could do the same I would be most appreciative.”