Zombie Crusade: Evolution

by J. W. Vohs

  As Father O’Brien had promised, a great meal was prepared for the group from Indiana, and everyone from the settlement shared in what quickly developed into a party-like atmosphere that included numerous bottles of beer and red wine. Marcus and Bobby had several beers each, but David only sipped a cup of wine and Christy drank nothing at all. Neither Luke nor Gracie cared for alcohol, so they spent their time catching up with Brittany and Beth and getting to know their boyfriends.

  Not long after the meal was finished, topped off with cookies, the unlucky teen on guard duty came trotting up to the young lieutenant and excitedly explained that he had spotted a boat’s running lights approaching the island. Instantly the party was over as the fighters grabbed up their weapons and everyone else retreated to the basement of a building they had surrounded with sandbags in order to offer protection from any bad humans that came along. Brittany and Beth were determined to never allow anyone else to suffer what they’d endured before Luke and the others had rescued them from their captivity, and they had insisted on the construction of a safe-house.

  David and his crew joined the soldiers heading down to the docks, taking up positions on the right flank of the semi-circle formed around the island’s small harbor. After a few minutes the small dots of light out on the lake had grown larger, and soon the waiting fighters could discern the outline of a cabin cruiser heading for Middle Bass at a high rate of speed. By the time the vessel pulled up to one of the outer docks a man on board was shouting, “Lieutenant Heder, Lieutenant Heder, I’m one of the guys from Buffalo you met out on the lake a few weeks ago!”

  The lieutenant switched on a high-powered flashlight and stepped away from where it lay on the pier, waiting for the cruiser’s engine to shut down before replying, “I’m Heder. How can we help you?”

  “Hey LT,” A relieved voice replied from the boat as the speaker turned on a flashlight illuminating his face. “I’m Shane Biddle; I was in charge of the group you met.”

  Heder called out to the waiting soldiers, “Turn on some lights; I know this guy.”

  Shane’s face was covered with grime, and his arm was in a sling. The young man was obviously in a great deal of pain and completely exhausted. Lieutenant Heder forced the injured soldier to drink from his water bottle and sent a messenger back to the safe-house for the doctor. Finally, after Shane took a long pull from the water he began to tell his tale.

  “I’m here to try to get some help. Our compound is under attack from thousands of infected, and I do mean thousands. They are all the advanced zombies, and they’re coordinating their attacks as if they’re communicating with one another, and that’s not the strangest thing either.”

  The distraught messenger looked about wildly before continuing. “The day before the infected hit us a guy showed up in an Army uniform and said he represented the provisional government of the United States. He told us that the president had ordered the military to put down revolts around the country, and if we didn’t open our doors to him and his unit we would be attacked. Our commander talked the situation over with all of us and we decided that it was too risky; we didn’t know for sure if this guy was legit or not, but the whole thing didn’t feel right. Anyway, we told him to come back with his unit so we could talk to some other officers, but he said we either opened up or they would wipe us out. Then we told him that didn’t sound like the America we knew and kicked him out.

  “That afternoon we were buzzed by several Blackhawks, but they didn’t fire on us or anything. It was surreal. That evening was when we were hit by the infected. At that point we were hoping to see the choppers again, thinking maybe they’d help us out, and we did see them in the distance a few times, but whoever they were they didn’t come in to help. We killed hundreds of zombies that night and managed to push them back from our outer wall, but we lost fourteen fighters out of a force of eighty. The next morning they came back again, stronger than the night before, and this time they pushed us back to what we call our keep.

  “That was yesterday, when I broke my arm falling off the wall. Since I couldn’t fight anymore they sent me down to the docks during a lull in the battle and I managed to escape in a boat. Our commander told me to try to find you guys and see if you could help. We’re not gonna try to keep the place, we just need help evacuating the settlement. We have over two hundred non-fighters in there that don’t have a chance if we don’t get ‘em out.

  David interrupted the man, “So you left last night? How do we know they haven’t been overrun by now?”

  Shane shook his head. “It’s possible, but unlikely. We’d used shipping containers to build a tower inside our main wall. It’s twenty-four feet high and we dug bunkers inside of it. We have water and food, but if we’re trapped in there until winter we’ll die.”

  “How did they get past your outer wall?” Bobby asked.

  “It was sixteen feet high so none of the infected got over the wall. They focused most of their effort on our front gate. After the military guy left we used our crane to move shipping containers into position to block the back gate, the one facing the lake, but the zombies hit us before we could block the front. I mean, we’d immediately reinforced it with sandbags, cement blocks, things like that, but it wasn’t as high or solid as the walls, and the creatures could climb it. Eventually, there were so many dead infected piled up that the others were able to climb the mounds of corpses and come at us on level ground. That’s how they finally broke through. We lost at least twenty fighters there, maybe more; I didn’t stick around to wait for the casualty reports.”

  “So you need us to figure out a way to clear a path through the hunters surrounding your fortress so you can get your people out?” David clarified.

  Shane looked confused, “What hunters you talking about, mister?”

  “Sorry, that’s just the term we use for the fast-moving zombies you’re describing.”

  Shane nodded his understanding, “Makes sense. They’re not really zombies, you know.”

  “Yeah,” David agreed, “we figured that out a while back.”

  He helped the man to his feet as he explained, “Look, we can’t do anything in the dark tonight, and it sounds like your friends are safe behind their walls for now. Let the doc look you over and we’ll talk more about this tomorrow.”

  After the doctor set Shane’s arm and gave him several painkillers the young man slept soundly until the next morning. Over breakfast he answered questions. David wanted to know how his group managed to survive the outbreak.

  “Well,” the young man began, “my dad owned a company that unloaded freight from lakers near Buffalo. One of his supervisors convinced him of what was coming as soon as the reports started in about the attack on the Marines in Afghanistan, said he’d seen the same thing in the early days of the war.”

  David perked up when he heard that. “What was this supervisor’s name?”

  “Everyone always called him Sarge,” Shane explained, “but his real name is Chad Greenburg.”

  “Yes!” Bobby Crane exploded, after which he and Marcus knuckle-bumped and continued to whoop and yell.

  Christy waited for them to settle down before asking, “Mind letting the rest of us know what you’re so happy about?”

  Marcus excitedly explained, “You ever heard Jack tell the story of how he and Carter made it to the top of that ridge in Afghanistan the night the infected villagers broke free?”

  Christy sarcastically replied, “Yeah, about a dozen times.”

  “Well, you know I was driving the Hummer that picked them up just before the BUFFs hit the valley, right?”

  “What’s a BUFF?” she wanted to know.

  “Uhh,” Marcus hesitated, “it’s an acronym we use for B-52’s that I won’t explain around the young ones here.”

  Christy smiled, “All right, go on with what you were telling us.”

  Marcus grinned, “The Ranger already in the Hummer with me when I picked those bums up was Chad! He’s one of the guys Jack
tried to get to The Castle before all hell broke loose, but he said he couldn’t leave his family.”

  He turned to Shane, “Let me guess, your people use biker gear for protection, and medieval weapons as much as possible.”

  Shane looked surprised, “How’d you know that?”

  “Jack was telling everyone who’d listen how to fight these things before the power and phones went down. Plus, the four of us from our unit who survived the outbreak in the village used to talk about how Jack and Carter made it out with a mace and bayonet. Greenburg’s a tough old bastard, but he sure as hell ain’t stupid. He got you guys ready.”

  Shane nodded, appearing greatly relieved that the people he was seeking help from knew his leader. “Sarge convinced Dad that we needed to build a fort and fill it with food before it was too late, and for some reason my hard-assed father believed him. We used shipping containers and anything else that would work to build walls and fighting platforms, then we bought as many sheds as they had at Lowes and Home Depot on the last day any of the stores were still open and built a bunch of shelters inside the fort. Sarge had people out buying up racing gear and stuff we could make weapons with. In the end, he and Dad moved all our employees and their families into the compound and sealed the walls.

  Bobby quietly promised, “We ain’t leaving Chad for zombie chow; I’m going to get him with or without the rest of you.”

  Marcus looked at his old buddy and in a voice as hard as steel stated, “Let’s get our gear ready.”

  “Hold on a minute,” David nearly shouted. “We have our orders; we’re supposed to set up the radio and make contact with The Castle. You can’t just run off half-cocked like this.”

  Bobby fixed a cold stare on David as he calmly explained, “Rangers are never half-cocked—we’re locked and loaded. You don’t need me and Marcus to set up that radio, and security ain’t a problem on this island. Chad saved my ass more than once, and I ain’t leaving him behind now. We’re gonna go get him outta there.”

  Shane interrupted, “Sir, you just don’t understand what thousands of these . . . hunters? . . . are like. Sarge is the toughest man I’ve ever seen, and he retreated to the keep along with everyone else. Nobody, no matter how good a soldier they are, can just fight their way through these creatures and rescue anyone. You will get yourself killed, and it won’t take long. You’d never get within a hundred feet of the place. We need more help, and we need a plan. I’m not leading two of you back there on a suicide mission.”

  The muscles in Bobby’s jaw were twitching when he responded matter-of-factly, “We’ll figure something out.”

  With an air of authority, Christy stepped in and calmed the situation. “Father O’Brien and anyone else with radio experience can stay here and get that radio up and running. Bobby, Marcus, we’re all in this together. David would never leave those people to die; none of us would, but we are going to sit down and come with a plan. I’m sure some of the people here want to help, and we need pilots for the yachts we’ll need to evacuate all the people in Shane’s group.”

  She looked at Shane, “We need you to draw us a map of the place, and then we need to know everything you can tell us about the entire area, especially how many boats are there.”

  Shane nodded and promised, “I can do that; I’ll do whatever you need me to do.”

  By noon they had a plan of action. The Lieutenant was bringing ten fighters from the island, and all of Christy’s group was going too. In addition, six more islanders would help in piloting the small fleet of yachts they would need to evacuate over two hundred people by water. The defenders of the fort in Buffalo had several CBs, and Shane knew the channels they were monitoring. Bobby and Marcus we’re going to set off a huge explosion away from the fortress in the hope of creating a successful diversion, followed by a fusillade of shots into the horde of hunters from several hundred yards away after sunset the next day. As soon as the monsters turned toward the two Rangers’ diversion, the remaining fighters would join up with the soldiers from the fort and form a defensive line to protect the civilians escaping down to the boats. The plan wasn’t perfect, and people would probably die executing it, but it was better than leaving over two hundred people to be eaten by hunters.

  The islanders had quite a bit of dynamite they’d scavenged from a quarry on the mainland, and Bobby knew a lot about explosives. He immediately set about making shrapnel bombs that he hoped would make a lot of noise and kill a bunch of hunters. The rest of the group inspected the armor and weapons of the lieutenant’s fighters and helped them improve their equipment as much as possible in the short time they had before departure. Shane had drawn a map of the area they would be operating in, and everyone was thoroughly briefed on where they needed to be and what they were expected to do when they got there. By sunset the boats were being loaded, and three hours later they got under way.

  CHAPTER 12

  As soon as the small flotilla was clear of the island’s harbor and motoring across the open water, David gathered all of his people together inside the cabin of one of the yachts appropriated for the trip. They hadn’t had a chance to discuss much of the new and troubling information they had learned in the last twenty-four hours, and David wanted everyone’s thoughts and ideas about what was happening in Buffalo before leading his people into battle.

  Luke was the first to speak, “First they’re setting ambushes on the Maumee, now they’re organizing mass attacks on fortifications.”

  After a long moment Christy replied, “Maybe food is growing scarce and desperation is speeding up their evolution, even though that’s counter-intuitive”

  Luke shrugged, “Could be. Whatever it is, it’s not good news.”

  “Maybe a few of the hunters are just a lot more cognitively developed than the others and they can organize massive packs?” Gracie suggested.

  Marcus shook his head, “Before modern communications military leaders had a hard time coordinating movements of large numbers of troops. If thousands of hunters are working together they have developed some type of communication more advanced than the moans and howls we’ve heard before. I wouldn’t even rule out some sort of psychic ability or something along those lines.”

  “Isn’t it possible that a large pack saw people near the fort and just attacked? David asked. “Then all the noise they made just drew more and more of them to the area until thousands of them were on the scene.”

  “That’s definitely a possibility,” Luke agreed.

  Gracie shook her head, “That scenario might have led to thousands being attracted to the area, but everything we’ve learned up to this point is that the hunters have been moving out of the urban centers. Plus, according to Shane’s story, the creatures retreated after Chad’s fighters killed hundreds of them, and then somehow regrouped for a second attack.”

  Another long moment of silence ensued until Christy argued, “Hey, we really aren’t considering all of Shane’s information and trying to figure out how, or if, it all ties together. This guy who said he was a military officer representing the government told the leaders of the settlement that they would be destroyed if they didn’t open their gates and let his people in. Choppers fly around but don’t fire on the fort. Then an army of hunters shows up and launches a coordinated attack. Are all of those facts simply unrelated coincidences, or are they somehow connected?”

  “So, you’re suggesting that the guy demanding their surrender could have unleashed the hunters on them?” Luke incredulously asked.

  Christy frowned, “It may seem implausible, but we shouldn’t be surprised by anything anymore. Maybe somebody has learned how to use helicopters to sort of herd the hunters together, or maybe the sound of the blades leads every hunter within hearing and seeing range to follow the choppers. Then the pilots could lead the giant pack to where humans who won’t cooperate with them are living. We should also consider any other possible means by which people could control the hunters.” She looked around at the dubious faces of ev
eryone in the group before ending the speculation in her standard courtroom tone, “It’s possible. The evidence may be circumstantial, but to discount it could be a costly mistake.”

  David let out a drawn-out sigh and murmured, “Yeah, it is possible. The only thing is that we’ve been in direct contact with these creatures since the virus first appeared in Cleveland. Of all people, we know what they are, and are not, capable of. Until I saw them retreat on the river all I ever saw were mindless killing machines that attacked until we killed them all or we ran away. Large-scale, coordinated action is a huge step from what we experienced on the Maumee the other day. And Gracie has a point with the fact that they’re continuing the siege without food, in a situation that’s as hopeless as the one they found themselves in with us the other day. They gave up then when they realized they couldn’t get us and we were slaughtering them. I’ve gotta believe that the hunters are being decimated if they’re attacking humans tough enough to survive this long, especially considering the fact that the people are fighting from behind a high wall. Maybe Christy’s onto something.”

  “Well, we’ve always been good at keeping open minds and thinking outside the box,” Luke admitted. “All of these events could be connected, but I don’t see how any of it affects the mission at hand. We don’t have time to search for the so-called military guy who asked for the surrender, and we sure as heck can’t go traipsing all over the countryside looking for an airfield with serviceable helicopters. We can share all of this information with Jack when we get back home. Then we can start investigating what it might mean for us, but right now we need to focus on rescuing these folks without getting any of us killed.”

  Bobby looked up from where he was duct-taping strips of ball-bearings to a bundle of dynamite and said, “My thoughts exactly, kid.”