Zombie Crusade: Evolution

by J. W. Vohs

  Carter and Hyrum sat together in the command car on the Utah train, each of them informing their respective commanders that they were now joined together and heading toward Indiana. Once that task was completed Carter wanted to know what had happened to the Utah force in Cheyenne.

  Hyrum shook his head as he let out a long, heavy sigh before he began to explain, “ We had set up a perimeter of four platoons, which is about a hundred and sixty men, to guard our railroad workers while they were refueling our locomotives. I kept one platoon in reserve with a couple of M-60s on top of one of the boxcars in case we needed some heavy firepower to cover a retreat. I’d say that decision saved at least fifty of our men, but I’m getting ahead of myself.

  “As far as I could tell, and from what I learned by debriefing my officers afterwards, our people were very quiet and well concealed in their positions when literally hundreds of hunters just came swarming over our troops with virtually no warning. They knew we were there. Now you and I both know that these creatures make a helluva racket when they see a human, but these bastards didn’t make a sound until they were right on top of us. If you’d have been there you’d think the attack was planned too; hundreds of hunters acting the same way and charging at the same time. My men had a very limited ammo supply, but they were all armed with iron-tipped pikes and knives to supplement their guns.

  “I still think we could have held them off if we’d have had a bit of warning and a few moments to consolidate our lines. As it happened, I ended up with four platoons surrounded and unable to support one another. First platoon was closest to the train, and I didn’t waste much time before calling them back to the boxcars to help the reserve cover the retreats of the other units. The second and third cut their way out under our covering fire, and they only lost a few men while doing it. Fourth platoon had set up their positions farthest from the train, and they were also hit by the highest concentration of hunters when the attack began.

  “We fired everything we had trying to clear an escape path for them, and when we ran out of ammo I had to threaten prison for the men who wanted to leave the train and try to rescue them. We had thinned the hunters out between the fighters and the train, but our guys were still surrounded and being mobbed. They just couldn’t break free for an escape attempt. Eli Revels was the platoon leader, and he finally did the bravest thing I’ve ever seen in my life. He ordered three of his squads to make for the train while he and the wounded stayed behind to cover their retreat. His squad leaders were under the impression that he’d be right on their tails as they ran for the boxcars, but Revels stayed with the men who couldn’t run and fought till the end. His actions saved twenty-six soldiers, but the rest of his platoon was wiped out.”

  Anderson grew quiet for a long moment before concluding, “That’s how we lost eighteen men in Cheyenne. But If you don’t mind, I’d rather not talk anymore about that right now. I’d like to hear your story. Can you tell me how you and Jack came to be living in a stocked fort when the outbreak happened?”

  Carter slowly nodded, wondering where to begin. “Well, the Army has this infectious disease unit called USAMRIID. They’re basically the military equivalent of the CDC. A squad from my Ranger battalion was assigned to guard a village they were quarantinin’ and that’s where I met Jack; he was some big-shot colonel’s driver, a guy named Barnes. The last time we saw him he was a general tellin’ people not to worry on one of the TV news networks durin’ the early days of the outbreak. Anyway, the secrecy was tight ‘round the whole area, and nobody knew what the heck was goin’ on. I thought some sorta virus had broken out in the village, and we were there to make sure it didn’t escape the valley. I was right ‘bout that, but what I didn’t figure out till later was that the Army had infected the Afghans with some sorta zombie-virus. One night a bunch of the people in the village attacked the soldiers guardin’ the perimeter, and most of us died tryin’ to keep ‘em down there. They were actin’ just like the infected we saw during the early days of the outbreak here in the states.

  “Jack broke orders to come down and join me at my observation post, which I’m sure saved my life, but we both ran outta ammo while the infected were still comin’ at us. We wasted most of it figurin’ out that we could only kill the critters with head shots. Jack put together a mace he’d made for SCA events back home and brought along to the war, and he convinced me to follow him outta the valley with a bayonet on the end of my rifle. We fought our way to the top of the ridge a few minutes before the Air Force showed up, and Marcus picked us up in a Hummer just as the jets burned that village to the ground.

  “I made Jack come back with me to the Rangers, and my colonel pulled some strings for us to keep him. Barnes eventually tracked us down, but my colonel wouldn’t let us outta his sight. I still think Barnes woulda killed us to keep us quiet. After the war me and Jack always worried that the Air Force didn’t kill all the infected in that village, and that eventually the virus would break outta Afghanistan into the rest of the world. We built The Castle for that reason. I wish we’d have been wrong ‘bout that, but it turns out we were right.

  “So when we saw the reports on the news about those Marines gettin’ chewed up by cannibalistic Taliban fighters, we knew what was gonna happen, ‘specially when they flew the wounded survivors of the attack back to the states. We did everythin’ we could to convince friends, family, and local law enforcement ‘bout what was comin’, but in the end we had less than a hundred people in The Castle when all hell broke loose. We did manage to save about five hundred more people from our county in the first few weeks, and then we found the Mormons who’d been hidin’ out in their church a couple months later. That’s it, though. We’re hopin’ there’s plenty more survivors out there, but they’re hidin’ purty good if they are.”

  Hyrum just stared, open-mouthed in disbelief, before finally exploding, “We brought this disaster on ourselves?”

  Carter nodded, “Yep, sure looks that way.”

  “What on earth was this USAMRIID trying to accomplish by creating and infecting people with this virus?”

  Carter thought for a long moment before slowly answering, “Near as we can figure, they were tryin’ to create some type of super-killin’-machine for military use. As ya know, the hunters want to kill humans more than any other food-sources. We figure some sorta changes to their DNA have basically turned them into mindless protein eaters that can heal from most wounds and seem fairly immune to the elements. Hell, our doctors tell us that they hardly need any oxygen—or they barely breathe for it—that’s why wounds to the torso don’t stop ‘em. USAMRIID got their killers all right, but they just didn’t figure out a way to control ‘em. So here we are.”

  Hyrum held his head in his hands as he stared at the floor, finally groaning, “They almost destroyed the human race. We all could have all died without some luck and a few great leaders rising up and forming a resistance to the infected.”

  “They still might destroy the human race,” Carter pointed out, “if we don’t win this war.”

  Hyrum looked up with anger burning in his eyes, “If this is the best they can do, we’ll win this thing.”

  Carter nodded, “Yep, if we’ve seen the best they can do I think the human race will survive. Of course, we might not live to see it.”

  CHAPter 11

  Father O’Brien had taken his time heading over to Maumee Bay outside of Toledo for his weekly vigil waiting for the return, or some word of the whereabouts and condition, of his beloved friends. He motored the yacht into the relatively calm late-August water of the bay and shut the engine off, deciding to allow the craft to drift toward the eastern bank rather than anchoring in the deep water. With the sun almost directly overhead the old priest found a bit of shade from the cabin on the side of the yacht facing west, where he unfolded his zero-gravity chair and plopped down with a novel to pass the time.

  David and the rest of the team were holed up in their tents, which they’d pitched deep inside a large g
roup of bushes, following the pattern of sleeping during the day that they’d used on the river during the trip from Fort Wayne. After Luke had finally drifted back to sleep following his nightmare, Gracie had relieved Christy at guard duty just a few minutes before the yacht sailed into sight. A large smile spread across her face as she gazed through her powerful binoculars, watching her old friend gingerly move his large bulk about the boat before getting comfortable for the day. Father O’Brien had been one of her father’s best friends, and now he was the closest thing to family that she had left on this side of the Atlantic from the pre-outbreak world. She briefly considered the possibility that her mother and brother had somehow survived the apocalypse in Israel, but quickly pushed the thought of them away as she didn’t want to deal with the pain of their likely fate during what she hoped would be a happy morning.

  After spending a few moments alone with her memories, she crawled into her tent and gazed down at the young man she loved so deeply. Sometimes just looking at Luke made her forget all the horrors of the zombie-world, especially when he was sleeping so peacefully. Too many times when he was awake he bore an expression of holy purpose that left his eyes looking like two pieces of ice shining above his chiseled cheekbones. She loved that look too, but sometimes it was nice to see the boy inside the man and rest next to him. Anxious to share the news about Father O’Brien’s return, she leaned over and gently kissed Luke on the nose.

  When her kiss didn’t rouse him, Gracie gently shook Luke awake. “He’s here!” she whispered excitedly. “Let’s coast over there and surprise him.”

  Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, Luke smiled at Gracie’s enthusiasm. “Well, he’s not so young anymore. We don’t want to give him a heart attack . . .”

  Gracie was up and tossing him his shoes. “He’s survived a zombie apocalypse; he can handle it. I’m going to go tell David that Father O’Brien is here and that you and I are going to give him a proper welcome. I’ll meet you by the canoe in five minutes.” She darted out of the tent before Luke could say another word.

  She paused for a second outside of David and Christy’s tent, not sure whether she should announce herself and wait for an invitation or just barge right in. She decided on a compromise, declaring her presence as she ducked inside. David and Christy had been wrapped around each other in slumber, but they quickly disentangled themselves and automatically reached for their weapons.

  “Wait, it’s good news,” Gracie quickly explained. “Father O’Brien is here. I’d like for Luke and me to go say hello right away if you don’t object.”

  Christy smiled, “You’re going to surprise him, aren’t you? Just don’t give him a heart attack; we all want a chance to catch up with the old man.”

  David stretched, then reached over and draped his arm around his wife’s shoulders. “Okay, Gracie, you and Luke head over, then the rest of us will follow in about half an hour with the gear.”

  Gracie was smiling from ear to ear, “Thanks—and sorry for charging right in without warning.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” David replied. “But you do need to be careful about sneaking up on people; I’m just glad we didn’t shoot you. That would have put a real damper on the day. Now get going—I know you’re anxious to see Father O’Brien.”

  As instructed, Luke was waiting by the canoe, itching to hit the water and see his friend. The teens climbed aboard and quietly paddled out to the yacht, approaching the side opposite where the old man sat dozing on the deck, a tattered book resting open on the curve of his belly. A small access ladder still hung off of the rear of the ship, and Gracie climbed the squeaky rails as quickly as possible, followed a moment later by Luke. The boy’s weight on the rickety structure created enough noise to awaken the priest, who quietly called out, “Hello, is someone there?”

  Still smiling, Gracie held up a hand to Luke, deciding she didn’t want to test the limits of Father O’Brien’s health by actually frightening him. She gently called out, “I’m just a poor little Jewish girl looking for a priest I used to know.”

  “Gracie!” Came a cry from the side of the boat, immediately followed by heavy footfalls and O’Brien shuffling around the rear of the yacht as quickly as his heavy frame would allow. His eyes widened in surprise when he saw the teens, “And Luke! Thank God you came back!”

  Gracie ran into a giant bear-hug, while Luke tossed an arm around the priest’s shoulders and pulled him close. The old man unabashedly wept tears of joy as he stepped back and looked the youngsters over, finally explaining, “I was really starting to worry that you hadn’t made it. Where is everyone else? Is everybody okay?”

  Gracie hung her head as a pall of sadness fell upon Luke’s face while he pointed to shore and said, “David and Christy are here too, and they’re fine. We found Jack; everyone’s still alive except Jim and my dad.”

  Father O’Brien’s shoulders sagged, and for a moment he looked as if he might collapse. “Oh, son, I am so sorry.

  Luke just shrugged and murmured, “We were naïve to believe everyone would make it through so much dangerous territory without losing anybody. There were a few times when we all could have been killed. Dad and Jim both died defending portage sites while the rest of us escaped.”

  Once again the tears streamed down the old priest’s face, but this time they sprang from sorrow. “I should have been there, Luke, I should have been there.”

  Luke patted O’Brien’s shoulder, “And we probably would have lost you too. You followed your heart and your duty to go where you could do the most good. I can understand that. I think both of us have a calling in this new world, even if we don’t always understand it.”

  Father O’Brien could only nod his agreement as he pulled a hankie from his rear pocket and dabbed at his cheeks.

  Luke continued, “I’ve had a few dreams, Father. Trust me, everything’s okay.”

  The priest let out a long sigh and mumbled, “Why are you always the one providing me with spiritual comfort? That’s officially my job, you know.”

  Luke chuckled, “Don’t worry, your job is safe; I’m not really known for my sensitivity or social skills.” Growing more serious, he continued, “And we both know the pain and loss you’ve had to endure in your lifetime—I don’t think I can even imagine what that was like.”

  Gracie stepped in before any more tears were shed, not wanting Father O’Brien to slip into the depression he was prone to when he remembered losing his wife and children to a drunk driver nearly forty years earlier. “Hey, Father, look over here.”

  The priest followed Gracie’s index finger and found Christy and David leading the rest of the team just twenty yards away, both beaming with joy at having found their friend once again. Within minutes everyone was aboard and introductions made. The canoes were lashed to the deck of the yacht and Father O’Brien set course for Middle Bass Island. Along the way he explained that the settlement’s population had grown to forty-two people, including a doctor and four members of the Ohio National Guard.

  David asked how the girls they had rescued from two sickos on North Bass Island were adjusting.

  “They’re doing much better than I thought they would. I suspect that after living through the horrors of the outbreak they were better able to deal with the trauma they suffered at the hands of those creeps Lori put down than they would have been before the virus hit. Brittany is head over heels for a young lieutenant from the guard, and he seems to feel the same way. Beth is being trained to fight, but her boyfriend sails the lake looking for supplies so she didn’t go for a soldier. The girls have really good parents, and I think that’s helped them a lot.”

  “So their dad recovered from the pneumonia?” Christy inquired.

  “He sure did,” O’Brien declared. “Those antibiotics Vickie gave him had him back on his feet in less than a week. He’s doing great.”

  “Hey,” Luke finally shouted down from the roof of the cabin where he liked to hang out, “they have hot food there?”

&n
bsp; Everyone laughed as Father O’Brien patted his stomach and assured him, “Don’t worry, son, fish and baked potatoes for everyone tonight! Just how do you think I’ve been able to maintain my figure in these trying times? On Middle Bass, we are blessed with a hearty supply of food and some remarkably good cooks.”

  The residents of Middle Bass were delighted to see the people who’d delivered them from the zombie scourge less than a month earlier. Father O’Brien couldn’t stop smiling as the greetings continued and everyone caught one another up on developments since the two groups had last seen one another. The settlement’s inhabitants had been busily preparing for a long, cold winter by using boats to travel Lake Eire and scavenge for supplies. Nobody had been lost to the infected during these excursions, in fact, the islanders were surprised at how few of the monsters they had encountered in the areas they searched.

  Warehouses on Middle Bass were bulging with food and diesel fuel, and plenty of homes had been converted to wood burning so dozens of cords of firewood were also stored in empty buildings. The four National Guard soldiers spent part of their time carefully searching the shore areas for survivors, but had so far only brought back one married couple and an infant. They had also met a group of survivors out foraging for supplies for a settlement near Buffalo, but after sharing information and lunch the two groups had parted ways. David and Christy liked all of the newcomers that had arrived since they had departed the island, and were happy to see that the inhabitants were so well-provisioned for the bitter, Great Lakes winter that was sure to sweep down on them by the end of November.