Soldier On: Surviving the Zombie Apocalypse

by Shawn Chesser

  “What brings you here at zero-three-thirty?” Dan queried, while he stirred the soupy eggs with his fork.

  “Just got in from the outside,” Cade finished the last of his meal and changed the subject. He pointed with his chin. “Is that coffee?”

  “Big urn of it over that way,” the bearded man pointed at the end of the steam tables with his fork and started talking, “I had one of the worst nightmares of my adult life...” Cade asked Dan to wait one; he had already extricated one of his legs from under the table and was intent on getting some coffee.

  Cade returned with the steaming mug and sat down ready to listen; guessing that he had at least three hours to kill before the civilians would be out and about, he decided he’d let this gentleman waste a couple for him.

  “As I was saying, I’ve had claustrophobic nightmares- I was a tunnel rat in Nam and I don’t want to go there. I have had people shooting at me in my nightmares...always lived.” Dan took a long pull of his coffee, dried his mustache and then resumed. “This one...was too real. It was a zombie nightmare. Slow movers...hungry as hell. Well, when they finally got me I was taken to their leader the biggest zombie of the bunch...red hair flowing everywhere...”

  This got Cade’s attention, he leaned in.

  “...the bastard hooked me up to his motorcycle and dragged me down the main street of the town where I grew up. In my nightmare, I noticed a sign on that main drive, “Welcome to Stanley, Idaho Population 100” the sign still stands there today...let me remind you. I escaped from there twenty-four hours ago.” Dan intentionally left out the incidental details, sleeping with thoughts of suicide fresh in his mind and being caught off guard by the U.S. Army, it was a little bit embarrassing. “I’ve got a black hole in my heart...I had to say goodbye to some good friends two days ago. I’ve lost friends to old age, illness, war, accidents...when you get to my age that’s gonna happen. My friends were murdered...that’s personal.”

  Cade cataloged all of this in his mind while the orator paused for effect.

  “But I digress. Anyway take a guess what the sign read right before I woke up?”

  Cade longed for some more coffee but he was enjoying the story. “I have no idea.”

  Dan cleared his throat. “The numbers on that sign, which hadn’t been changed since the last census in 2000 had been crossed out and changed to zero. I presume to reflect all of the people killed by Ganz and his gang.”

  “You mean the man in your nightmare; the large red head biker is real, and not your personal bogey man?” Right then Cade knew the murderous biker that had tried to kill him was still alive.

  “That man is responsible for killing my good friend, Stanley’s’ only Sheriff, Bob Blanda, his teenaged daughter Irene and countless others. Almost forgot old Bo, another good man gone.” Dan swiped a napkin from the table, dried his eyes and blew his nose. “I thought all of that shit was behind me. Now I don’t even want to sleep...couldn’t, even if I wanted to. What’s an old man to do?”

  “Talking it out is a great start.”

  “I’ve been a loner for so many years...all the talking goes on internally. I’ve been stuffing everything since Nam.”

  “Thanks for your service.” Cade said with a nod of his head. “Marines I presume.”

  “Oorah,” Dan smiled but didn’t offer the other details. During his war, there were very few Marine Force Recon members in the MACV-SOG groups that actually were part of the hunter killer teams. Nearly half of the men over fifty-five he had ever met in a bar claimed Viet-Nam service and quite a few declared elite unit membership. In Dan’s opinion, if you talked about it, you were full of it.

  “Army,” Cade stated, waiting for the cross branch ribbing that was sure to come.

  “Son, thank you for your service and for lettin me bend your ear. I’m gonna go see if I can hold a wrench for someone at the motor pool-gotta feel useful somehow.”

  Cade watched the honored veteran return his tray and head for the door. He truly admired men like Dan, they had paved the way for him and he was grateful for that.

  Cade looked at his watch, 0430, only an hour had passed, the coffee wasn’t doing its thing and he wanted to rest his eyes. Instead of succumbing to the overwhelming draw of sleep he opted to give caffeine another try.

  Two steps removed from the coffee urn, Cade was tackled, and two thin arms encircled his waist. Off balance, he did the cup of full Joe dance, barely spilling a drop of his coffee.

  “Daddy, Daddy...” Raven screamed Daddy for several moments; she was clearly going into shock.

  Cade wrapped her up in a big bear hug. “Raven...Raven, take a deep breath-relax-it’s for real, it’s me.

  The two twin sisters stood rooted, mouths agape. “Where is our Daddy?” Sierra asked.

  “That I don’t know girls,” he softened his tone, “Was he supposed to be back tonight?”

  “I don’t know, but we miss him.” Serena spoke for the two of them and then broke down.

  Now all three girls were bawling and Cade was at a loss.

  “Raven pull it together, I have an important question that I need you to answer.”

  Her chest heaved a few more times and she gazed at her Dad through swollen red eyes, the bewildered look was replaced by one of pure relief. “Ok...I’m pulled together.” A slight curl of her lip told Cade she hadn’t lost her smart-aleck streak.

  “Listen closely. Where is your mom?”

  “She’s in the infirmary,” Raven said between sniffles.

  Cade’s heart skipped a beat, his stomach felt like it always does at the two minute warning, about to step out of a perfectly good aircraft at forty-thousand feet on a HALO insertion. He swallowed once and told himself to follow his own advice and pull it together. “What happened to Brook? Please tell me she didn’t get bit by one of those things.”

  “Dad...pull yourself together, Aunt Annie is in labor. We were getting her some food because mom says that she’s eating for two.”

  Going from one emotional extreme to the next was almost too much for Cade. Grateful as he was that the latest swing of the pendulum hit on the desired outcome. “Get the food. I haven’t seen your mom in more than a week.”

  The sisters picked out Jell-O and a tapioca pudding. Apparently this looked like pregnant person food to the eight year olds.

  Cade discarded his coffee cup and helped carry the food. “Sweetie, how are you doing? Is everything ok?” He asked Raven.

  He was greeted by silence. It was his daughters default when something traumatic had happened in her life. She had acted this way when her parakeet Samson died when she was five-years-old and Cade suspected this would be her default as an adult.

  Brook on the other hand always confronted her problems head on, wrestled them to the ground and beat them into her way of thinking. Cade had barely enough time to process the fact that his daughter was alive and well and within arms reach. He was trembling with the knowledge that his wife Brooklyn was alive and well somewhere on the base.

  Chapter 38

  Outbreak Day 7

  Schriever AFB

  Colorado Springs, Colorado

  The double doors to the small medical center swung open. Raven led followed by the maternal twin sisters. Cade walked a few steps behind the group, the euphoria that he still felt from holding his little girl put him in a semi-transcendental state, and the swinging doors almost got him in the face on the return trip. The last thing he needed was a broken nose to go along with the deep horizontal gash that was already there.

  Annie was in the hospital bed, her legs being held prisoner by a pair of stainless steel stirrups. It looked like the deck of the Starship Enterprise. She was surrounded by all manner of monitors and diagnostic equipment. Brook seemed swallowed up by the electronic machines, her small stature added to the effect.

  “Push...breathe deep,” Brook was at home in this setting. What a nurturer she is, Cade thought, as he watched things unfold. “Push...breathe deep,” She had no idea th
at she was being watched.

  “Girls,” Cade said in a near whisper, “your Mommy doesn’t need the food now...it looks like you two are about to have a new brother or sister.”

  “A brother,” the two twins answered in unison.

  Cade smiled, happy for them and Mike.

  Brook caught some movement in her peripheral vision and turned her head a few degrees. “Push...push...breathe deep. Cade!” she yelled his name. It caught her totally by surprise and Brook’s exclamation caught Annie by surprise, causing her to push again. “Here he comes...” Brook had lost the professional nurse voice that she used at work. Her words wavered; Cade could tell that she was on the verge of tears.

  Cade watched the doctor hand the baby off to Brook, the cries that could only come from a newborn filled the air. It was at once the most beautiful sound and the most angst inducing. Brook swaddled the little baby and handed him to Annie. “It’s a boy. Mike is going to be very proud.”

  Annie clutched her baby boy closely as her daughters circled in to meet their new brother.

  Brook snapped the latex gloves from her hands and closed the distance to her family.

  Cade already had Raven in his arms and received Brook fully. She looked him in the eyes, reached up and gently probed his injured nose. Her loving touch silently conveyed every emotion she was experiencing. No words were spoken, their little family was back together and that was all that mattered.

  Brook watched Annie and her daughters fawn over Mike Junior. She was grateful that the birth had none of the complications she had prepared for. Cade rubbed off on her more than she would admit. “An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure,” he was fond of that phrase.

  The medical carts that Brook liberated proved worth their weight in gold. The multiple infections that had Carl near death were responding to the antibiotics. He was slowly surfacing from the depths of his coma and had even given Brook’s hand a gentle squeeze.

  Suddenly the door opened behind Brook. The twins started shrieking and rushed past, totally ignoring her, focused on whoever had just entered the infirmary.

  By the time Brook recovered from the shock of the screams Mike Desantos had both girls in his arms. He looked beaten up and dirty. It was bittersweet, he missed the birth but he was still among the living. Now he would get to meet his namesake.

  Mike spotted Brook and Raven and gave Cade thumbs up.

  Without saying a word Brook slinked from the room with her loved ones in tow.

  ***

  Cade was fast asleep between Brook and Raven. They were on the bottom of two bunk beds that were pushed together. It was still a little uncomfortable but after being apart from them he wouldn’t have it any other way.

  “Cade,” Brook whispered in his ear-the subtle vibrations of her voice tickled a bit, “I have something to tell you...”

  “After all we’ve been through...I’m sure we each could write a book about our time apart,” Cade whispered back.

  Raven stirred, said something unintelligible and then went quiet.

  “I...am...pregnant,” Brook spaced the words out to soften the blow.

  “How?”

  “The usual way and you were involved. What...did you miss that day in health class?”

  “I had better sit down and process this.” Cade cloaked his face with his open palms, rubbed his eyes in case he had drifted back to sleep and was dreaming. He found that he was in fact wide-awake and was going to be a dad again.

  “I gave myself two tests-both positive. I was late by a couple weeks before Raven and I left Portland. I thought it might be from stress-what with you looking for work and us going to see Mom and Pops.” As soon as she uttered the words, Mom and Pops, the events of the past few days came crashing back. Like the brisk gust of wind preceding a downpour, the loss of her parents hit her square on.

  Cade embraced his wife and let her grieve. They fell asleep in each others arms.

  ***

  Cade popped up in bed like someone had given him a surprise prostate exam, without the proper lube. The details of the nightmare floated on the periphery of his memory. His accelerated heart beat and the sheen of perspiration adhering to his body was evidence enough that it had been a bad one.

  Sleep was out of the question, the adrenaline coursing through his body made the decision for him. Cade’s black Suunto indicated he had only been down for a little less than two hours. It was 0900 and time for some coffee.

  The room was empty, Cade had a feeling that Brook and Raven were probably fighting over who gets to hold little Mike Junior.

  ***

  Cade was lacing up his boots when someone rapped sharply on the door.

  “Who is it?”

  “Airman Davis and I’m looking for Cade Grayson.”

  “Come in Airman Davis...”

  Cade wondered who sent Doogie Howser to fetch him. The incredibly young looking, baby faced E-2 stood at attention. After a moment of awkward silence Cade broke the ice. “Stand down, I’m retired.”

  “I’m sorry, Sir. The person who sent me here holds you in such high regard-I thought you were a Medal of Honor winner...or a General or something.”

  I’m flattered, but let’s get to the point. Who sent you?”

  I’m not at liberty to say. Will you come with me?

  Cade continued cinching up his boots, rubbed his scruffy beard, and nodded an affirmative.

  Chapter 39

  Outbreak Day 7

  Grand Teton Pass

  Jackson Hole, Wyoming

  The steady thrumming of the tracks slapping the pavement produced a mesmerizing cadence. The vehicles power plants strained to propel the tonnage up the granite mountain. Three things worked against them: heat, altitude, and grade. The trailing Bradley struggled to keep the pace, so the commander in the lead vehicle had his driver halt, and ordered the rest of the procession to do the same.

  Staff Sergeant Sean O’Malley adjusted his stance in the commander’s seat, the top half of his body benefitted from the cool mountain winds. On the other hand his lower extremities still suffered, cooking in the cramped, kiln like interior of the Bradley fighting vehicle. Why the Army hadn’t upgraded all of their vehicles with the new climate control systems crossed his mind as he longed for a dash of Gold Bond powder down below. He knew that bitching about it would be asinine because compared to the blast furnace heat of Afghanistan, Wyoming felt like Antarctica.

  O’Malley was still in a state of disbelief he was home. He still had 139 days and a wake up before he was supposed to rotate home. If someone in the Stan would have told him seven days ago he would be in Wyoming on this date, the bearer of the good news would’ve received a great big sloppy kiss. If that same person would’ve leveled with him and told him the truth, that he would be back in the United States shooting fellow Americans, he would have called said person a fucking lunatic. The once jovial redhead, of Irish descent, just wished everything would get back to normal; this surreal nightmare was taking him to places he never wished to visit.

  Two Bradleys, two Humvees and a fuel truck made up the small convoy. Staff Sergeant O’Malley, call sign Tempest Seven, was in the lead Bradley. In addition to his driver and gunner, six soldiers of the 4th Infantry Division out of Fort Carson rode in the troop compartment. All of the soldiers were combat veterans and had recently returned from the big sandbox; to a man they were ready and itching for any reason to dismount the rolling sauna.

  The Humvees held four soldiers each, also from the 4th ID. Bringing up the rear was another Bradley fighting vehicle. It held three living crew members and eighteen corpses, stiff with rigor mortis, stacked like cordwood in the troop compartment.

  O’Malley adjusted the binoculars focus, the undead woman’s features sharpened up. She tottered stiffly towards his column. An adventurous black mountain bird swooped down to feed on a charred corpse. The walking sunbaked cadaver paid the raven no attention. The zombie was focused only on the soldiers in the noisy machines and the
meat on their bones.

  O’Malley still couldn’t believe what he was looking at. She wasn’t the first zombie he had come across; in fact he had lost count of how many of these things he had put down since he returned from the other war. A Muslim extremist wearing a suicide vest-that he could believe, he had seen the aftermath with his own eyes and had picked up the body parts of friendly Afghan troops; their only mistake-waiting in line for a hot meal. That had been real...too real.

  At some point he hoped that someone would explain, why? Why did they come back in the first place? Why do they keep hungering for human flesh after they die? Why don’t they feel pain? O’Malley had a million questions, but only his orders to follow, recon Montana, Eastern Idaho and Wyoming before returning to Colorado Springs via Jackson Hole, Wyoming.

  The driver’s voice crackled in O’Malley’s earpiece, “Some pileup we’ve got here Sir. Does it appear navigable?”

  O’Malley, busy glassing the apex of the Teton pass, answered without removing the binoculars from his face, “We’re going to have to move some of the wrecks, at least the ones that aren’t fused to the asphalt, and it should be no problem if our vehicles don’t give up the ghost first.”

  ***

  Staff Sergeant O’Malley and the thirty-two men under his command left Colorado Springs three days ago. The patrol consisted of one M978 fuel truck, five Humvees, two Deuce and a Half transports and two Bradley fighting vehicles-including the one he was perched atop. They were patrolling northeast of Boise, Idaho, when they rolled into an ambush. The pitched battle proved to be deadly for both sides. IEDs planted by the roadside immediately destroyed three Humvees and disabled both Deuce and a Halfs. Heavy machine gun and small arms fire tore into the disabled vehicles killing the remaining survivors.

  O’Malley’s gunner returned fire, the 25 mm cannon chewed up several SUVs and half a dozen bikers including their Harleys. One of the tracer rounds found a Humvee fuel tank resulting in a massive explosion. The greasy, black fireball roiled into the sky.