“James, oh my God! It is pure barbarism out here. We are safe here in the helicopter. Down below, people are looting, burning, and killing each other. This is absolutely the worst possible thing I have ever seen! People are breaking into shops and stores. The police are on a hunting spree shooting anyone who comes toward them! There are strange people literally biting and eating each other. I saw a young woman get bitten on the neck. She lay on the ground and bled out. Then all of a sudden, she stood back up and began shuffling toward a fat woman, and then she too was bitten. The fat woman got up and began eating her baby in a stroller! Pure butchery here, James! I think this is the first sign of the apocalypse!” The camera panned up to see a ball of red fire billow up in the distance. “Dear God! There are explosions happening here! James, are you seeing this?”
“Yes, I am, Merle, that’s why I told our Channel 7 viewers that it is imperative that you stay indoors and do not attempt to leave your homes. We now go to our Medical Expert here at a local hospital. Tami, what do you have?”
The screen changed to a young female reporter of oriental decent standing next to an elderly black man in a pair of blood-soaked scrubs and lab coat to complete his blood-saturated attire. He stood as he was downing cups of water from the water fountain like he hadn’t tasted the cool refreshing liquid in days. “Look, I don’t have any answers, just speculations. But what I can tell you is that these…things…are not human. They have no shame, no remorse, and no other necessities other than to feed. I watched them tear someone apart. They are attracted to blood and vital organs like the heart and the kidney. Those who get bitten get back up to feed. No matter the condition of their bodies, they will attempt to feed,” said the doctor as he took another drink of water. “What do you think is causing this outbreak of violence?” Tami said off camera. “The symptoms are congruent with that of a virus. I can only speculate still. I have no proof other than it seems to spread by contact,” said the doctor. “What is happening here at the hospital?” “Right now, we are making a quarantine zone with the aid of the police department. We are still attempting to separate those who are truly infected to those who are wounded. These people are transmitting something via bites. As long as you aren’t bitten, you’re going to be OK for now. We are trying to keep this hospital aboveground. So please, if you aren’t experiencing any of these symptoms, keep your ass at home,” the doctor said as he finished his cup of water and walked away from the camera. “Wow, something is really happening down here, James.”
Tami swept the microphone left to right, signaling the “kill the camera.” Her cameraman took the camera off his shoulders and held it loosely in his arm. “Let’s get the fuck out of here. Hospitals give me the creeps,” he said. “Not yet, there is something happening here. This is award-winning shit right here. Let’s talk to a cop.”
Josh, Ethan, Parker, and Professor McMiller all sat as they watched the doctor’s interview. McMiller tried to move her ankle. Ethan looked over. “Is it broken?” he asked.
“No, it’s just a sprain. I’ll be fine. I need to get home.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Josh refuted.
“Yeah, you can’t walk, and we shouldn’t leave,” Ethan said as he lit a cigarette and held the pack open to the rest of the group. Josh took one, as did Parker with his good hand. Professor McMiller stared at the pack and at the faces around her.
“Look, it’s cool. None of us will say anything,” Ethan said as the cigarette bobbed in his lips.
“I’m gonna need something strong to drink,” she said.
“I got this,” Josh said as he stood up and walked in the kitchen. He rummaged through some cabinets.
The cheap wood twanged as he slammed them back and forth. He reemerged into the living room with four highball glasses and a bottle of Red Label. “Now we’re talking!” McMiller said as she moved herself to receive the glass handed from Ethan. “To the end of the world,” she said as she raised her glass. The three others clanged glasses and downed the amber, fiery liquid.
THE CLEANSING
CHAPTER 23
MONDAY 1200 CST
MILLINGTON
Devin and Erica made their way up Highway 14. They made their way north to the military base. The small town of Millington had been ravaged just like Memphis had been. The baseball field had caught fire. A couple of the barbeque shacks had creatures stranding outside of them as they banged on the door trying to gain entrance. The roads were filled with cars as people tried to seek refuge inside the military base. A giant American flag blew in the wind as a beacon of hope. The road came to a dead stop as people were leaving their vehicles.
At the entrance to the base, Sergeant Wagner was going through the rigorous process of screening civilians before they entered. People arrived from the town of Millington and the surrounding areas. They all wanted to be on the other side of the concrete walls. They all wanted to be safe. Wagner and his men were taking people’s temperature and shining flashlights in their eyes as a way to filter out the sick people. It was a slow process, but a necessary one. The tarmac of the runway had become an impromptu refugee camp. Tents were staked as fast as the men could raise the centerpieces. First Lieutenant Hopkins shouted on to the loud speaker at those arriving. “Be calm! We are examining everyone who comes in! Leave your vehicles, and do not bring any weapons! If you bring weapons, you will be arrested!” There were another group of soldiers just outside the fence who were piling weapons from the civilians into the back of a transport truck. “Food rations and water will be delivered upon examination!” Hopkins spoke again.
Erica rolled the minivan to a stop. “Wait, pull over on the grass,” Devin said as he became uneasy.
“What do you think?” she asked as they both stared at the giant wall of concrete.
“Not what I expected. They are treating this like a sickness. They’re actually allowing people in. This might be a good thing. Wait in the car; I’m going to have a look,” he said as he undid his seat belt and opened the door. He stuck the cashier’s .40 Springfield into the rim of his pants and pulled the shirt over it. He casually left the minivan, exchanging glances with Erica as he slowly disappeared in the sea of parked cars. He began to understand what the soldier was shouting into the megaphone. Be calm, my ass, he thought as he kept his hand on the semiautomatic resting against his back. As he made his way to the line, he looked around. There were no changelings around. Six men in camouflage were stationed behind the concrete wall with M14-style assault rifles. Marines, he thought. The rest of the armed services didn’t care about ammunition, but the marines were taught to make their shots count.
At that time, more camouflaged men mismatched with the marines in their style of camouflage appeared at the wall. They held M4s with scopes along with a couple of soldiers stationed toward the gate who were armed with light machine guns, specifically SAWs. A belt-fed machine gun, capable of firing a hundred rounds in less than the time you could say “Don’t shoot.” They don’t want to be fucked with, he thought. He came to the back of the line. He stood on top of a Mercedes to get an aerial view of the line. More than a thousand people were in line for refuge. Devin walked around the crowd to get a look what the soldiers were loading into the transport truck. Weapons. Most were handguns and hunting rifles; there were a couple of shotguns. These are local people, he thought. He walked up to the soldiers collecting weapons. He stood straight and saluted. “Lance Corporal Devin O’Connor.”
“Get back in line, dude,” the soldier said to Devin.
“What’s happening here?” Devin asked in a tense tone.
He used to be one of them. He knew how to talk to them. “No weapons inside, no sickness inside. Simple as that.”
“I won’t go in unless I have a weapon.”
“Then you’re not going in, Lance Corporal!” he said in a harsh sarcastic tone.
“You can fuck off with that attitude, E1, or I will knife hand the shit out of you in front of all these people,” D
evin said as he saw the insignia on the sleeve of the camouflage shirt. The solder stopped taking weapons and approached Devin in a condescending manner.
“We have command here! Where is your uniform?”
“That’s not your concern, E1. I came here for help. Now are you going to help me, or do I need to speak to your commanding officer?”
“I am in command here! Now get back in line, or fuck off!” Hopkins shouted into the megaphone purposely at Devin.
“I want to take my weapon!” Devin said. The E1 soldier placed his hand on Devin’s shoulder. “No weapons!” Hopkins shouted.
“Well, fuck you!” a man in line said as he held his rifle at arm’s length. “You’ll have to kill me before I give up me gun!” the man had a thick country twang.
“Fine,” Hopkins said. Hopkins removed the sidearm from his tactical holster and pointed it at the man in the wide brimmed hat. “Release that weapon, or be shot where you stand.” The man in the wide brimmed hat spit on the ground in the lieutenant’s direction. Hopkins didn’t take too kind to the gesture. “Suites me,” he said as he pulled the trigger.
With the sound of the handgun, the man fell dead on the ground. A single stream of blood rolled down his forehead. “You can all come with us, or you can join him!” Hopkins said as he waved the pistol at the lying corpse.
“Oh shit!” Devin said as he turned to see the civilians raise their weapons at the commanding officer.
The soldiers on the wall racked the actions in their rifles at once and shouldered their rifles. Devin squatted down with the E1 soldier as they were in the middle of this Mexican standoff. The civilians who had already made it through the gate had come out of their tents to witness the standoff. “Men! Fire!” Hopkins shouted as he took aim with his sidearm. The civilians pointed their weapons at the soldiers who had the higher vantage point. Devin pulled the E1 down to the ground. “Get off me!” the soldier said as he began to fight with Devin in a tug-of-war match. The soldiers and the civilians began firing at each other. The M14 marksmen were picking off civilians one by one. Those who held the M4s were firing in burst fire as the armed civilians began hiding behind cars. The two guards at the front hip-fired the SAWs wildly into the crowd at fully automatic pace.
With the barrage of bullets going in every which way, Devin found himself in a tussle with the E1 who wore the name of Jackson. Jackson had his left hand around Devin’s throat as he began punching him in the face. Devin tried with all of his might to remove the soldier’s death grip. A new pair of feet stepped in Jackson’s eyesight. These feet were sickly and pale. Jackson and Devin stopped fighting as both their eyes judged the newcomer. Jackson let out a scream, which was muffled by the creature biting down on his neck. Devin had his hands free. He reached for the .40 against his back. He brought it to his chest and placed the barrel against Jackson’s neck. He fired multiple times. Each bullet whizzed through Jackson’s windpipe and into the cranium of his attacker. The creature released its bite on the bleeding Jackson and collapsed to the ground. Devin shouted as he shook himself free from the corpse.
The civilians inside the camp became outraged that soldiers were firing on their own people. As a mass of able-bodied people, they began climbing the scaffoldings to get to the soldiers on the wall. The civilians made a quick job of the soldiers on the wall, by pulling them either backward into the raging crowd or forward onto the street where a swift fall could deem hazardous; they were taken out quickly. The two soldiers with the LMGs stopped to reload. They were met with a gentlemanly warfare. Some civilians knelt, and some stood, as they aimed their weapons at them. In a single instance, they fired, removing the souls of these soldiers. The civilians rushed the gates.
The now standing creatures rushed the gates as well. People were running and screaming. Some had stayed on the wall as they fired at the creatures. “Aim for the head!” Devin shouted. “The head!” Jackson’s corpse rose and began feasting on the wounded. One by one, they all rose. Those who had fallen stood once more, civilian clothed or wearing camouflage; if it was bitten, it craved human blood. Devin pushed the civilians into the buildings. Some of the soldiers had come to their senses and fired at the oncoming creatures that had penetrated the gate. “I’m out! Where’s the armory?” Devin shouted at a man in camouflage.
“Inside Building B!” The soldier didn’t care; he just wanted someone with a gun at his side. Devin tossed the Springfield at one of the oncoming corpses leaving it to bounce against its pale skin and fall to the ground. Devin ran, passing civilians and soldiers alike. He made his way to Building B. He flung open the metal door.
There was a caged door with a keypad lock on it. He didn’t have time for this bullshit. He quickly began kicking the chain-link door. With every kick came a rattle of the chain links against their aluminum structures. On the other side was everything Devin could possibly need. Rifles, rocket launchers, handguns, mortar tubes, satchel charges, LMGs, and other things in metal cases were all he kept thinking about. He had kicked with all of his might. Finally, he stopped for a breather. Gunfire was still being heard from outside Building B.
He walked out the metal door to find something he could use for the chain-link gate. The transport truck, he thought. He saw that he was only a few hundred meters from the gate. He could run outside and drive the truck in. He looked around. They’re slow, and I can beat them, he thought. He found a piece of aluminum tin from a barrack that was being built. He placed the piece of tin in front of him like a shield. He slowly began trotting, which broke into a sprint. He held the tin up as he pushed through the crowd. “What the hell are you doing?” The same soldier asked as he began picking off rounds around Devin. Devin didn’t know what was on the other side of the tin shield, and he didn’t care. He ran as hard as he could. He began to see bodies at his feet. He was getting close.
As he looked down, he and his shield collided with the concrete wall. He had made it. The collision forced him to fall on his back. He rolled backward using his energy. He made it to the front of the truck and hopped in the cab. No keys. He ripped open the steering column and began touching wires together. The large transport truck revved back to life. He got up from the floorboard and sat behind the wheel. He looked out to see Erica still sitting in the minivan. He shifted the truck in gear as he rammed it through the gate of the military base. He aimed the transport truck into the path of the creatures. He connected the bumper of the big rig into the empty chest cavity of those in his path. He found Building B again. He pressed the gas pedal all the way to the floor as he aimed for the door. He braced himself for impact as the truck made a hole in the wall of the building. He had made it through the chain link and into the armory itself. He flipped the behemoth around and backed it into the same hole he had made.
Quickly, he lifted the canvas tarp covering the truck and began throwing weaponry into the back of the truck. A soldier came in on the other side of the truck. “Don’t move!” he said as he pointed his M4 at Devin. Devin stopped as a briefcase met the back of the canvas tarp.
“Oh good, it’s you,” Devin said as he remembered this man’s face. He was the soldier who told him where the armory was.
“Want a hand?” the soldier asked as he lowered the rifle.
“Yeah!” Devin said as he found a large container that required two people to move it.
The soldier assisted him. “But you’re taking me with you!”
“Understood. Where is the ammo depot?” Devin asked as the two men heaved another heavy object into the truck.
“Southside. Building J. We keep the amm—,” he was cut off.
“You keep the ammo separate in case there is an explosion. I haven’t always been a civvy,” Devin interrupted as he made eye contact with his new friend.
“Sounds good. Think we got enough stuff?”
“Is there another transport truck?”
“Nothing that’s usable.”
“Then yeah. C’mon, let’s hurry up. On to Building J,” Devin s
aid as he grabbed one of the weapons from the civilian section of the mobile arsenal. The men drove the truck to Building J. The humans were beginning to take control of the base. The sickly looking bodies were beginning to thin out.
Devin backed the truck up to the steel door. He heaved it open. A body in camouflage knocked him to the ground. Devin did his best to combat the corpse that was trying to take a bite out of him. The soldier hopped out of the truck and sent a piece of lead into the corpse’s skull. Devin pushed the body off him. “OK, you can come,” he said as he stood up. The two men began to clear and sweep the ammunition depot. No other corpses were around. There was movement behind the familiar chain-link fence. “Halt!” the soldier said. “I know the code. You won’t have to smash it.” Devin let out a slight chuckle as he watched him punch in a code with his thumb. The light turned green on the keypad and the soldier swung the door open. “After you!” he said. Devin entered carrying a shotgun he found in the back of the truck.
The Week of the Dead Page 8