by Ricky Sides
Herb thought about what his friend was saying and then he nodded reluctantly. “You’re right. If they are still alive, the chances are pretty good that the people you heard will need help.”
Ox started growling. It was a low rumbling sound that was gaining volume by the second.
“Ox,” Herb cautioned the dog as he placed his hand on the animal’s back. He had been working with the animal to try to teach it not to bark, and his growls usually ended in a spate of loud barking.
“Here they come,” Randy announced.
Randy’s warning caused Herb to look out through the fence. He saw a man and a woman moving toward them along the dirt road. They were surrounded by a pack of coyotes that was menacing them. The man was brandishing a metal baseball bat, which he held in a tight fisted grip. The woman was carrying a bundle that she tried to keep out of reach of the pack.
Herb had seen enough. “Open the gate. Archers, be ready to go help them. Randy and I will accompany you and cover you with our rifles. Hernando! Get some men to cover the gate!” he ordered with a rapid-fire burst of instructions.
The inner gate was still opening when Hernando and his team arrived to cover the gates. “Good luck,” Hernando said as the guard team, armed with bows, followed Randy and Herb out the gate.
“Close the inner gate,” Herb ordered without turning to see if the guards complied. If he had looked, he would have seen that Hernando already had men securing the entrance to the refuge. His team left the outer gate open to facilitate their retreat with the people they were attempting to rescue.
Ox was with the team as they exited the outer gate. Herb yelled out in the hopes that the presence of his party would cause the coyotes to retreat. That might have worked had they been dealing with normal animals, but that wasn’t the case. The animals ignored his shouts and kept their attention riveted on the man and woman, who was carrying a small bundle in her arms.
The team from the refuge trotted toward the running battle in an attempt to get close enough to use their bows. As they ran, Herb kept his attention focused on the man with the bat who was defending himself and his female companion. He saw one of the coyotes launch its body at the woman. The man stepped between her and the attacking animal and swung his bat with a hefty swing. The animal was struck in the head. It fell to the ground and remained still.
“Stop,” Herb ordered the team. He was going to have to use his rifle. The pack was closing in on the people, and if he didn’t open fire, they’d never reach them in time to prevent one or both of the people from being dragged to the ground.
Herb and Randy had worked together long enough that very few words were needed for them to coordinate their assault on the anizombies. “I’m right,” Herb said because he was kneeling to the right of his friend.
“Then I have the left,” Randy responded as he dropped down to one knee to better sight in on the animals that were about 120 yards away.
Both men opened fire at almost the same instant. They each killed two of the coyotes at the outer edges of the pack before the animals turned their attention to Herb’s group. First, a single anizombie broke away from the group and began trotting toward the men from the refuge. The rest of the pack soon joined in the advance.
Herb and Randy remained on their knees, but held their fire. Neither man would fire again unless they were forced to do so to protect the team. They had lured the anizombies away from the man and woman. Now, it was time to wait and let the archers do their jobs.
The two friends didn’t have long to wait. Only a few seconds elapsed before arrows lanced out from the group of four guards armed with bows. The arrows struck four of the advancing anizombies.
Ox barked in anger next to Herb, who reached out to stop the canine before he could dart away and run toward the coyotes. He was unsuccessful. His left hand slipped along Ox’s back as his right struggled to retain its grip on his M4, which was still aimed in the general direction of the anizombies.
The five remaining coyotes had now closed to within twenty feet of the team. Ox met one of the beasts head on in a fury as arrows from the archers took out the remaining four. Herb ordered the men to cease fire.
Ox seemed to have the upper hand at the outset of the battle, but then the anizombie managed to get the big dog off his feet and roll him onto his back, exposing his throat and soft underbelly to attack. Herb lunged to his feet. His injured leg throbbed from the strain, but he didn’t let that prevent him from advancing toward the fighting animals. “Get the people inside the refuge!” he ordered, shouting to be heard above Ox’s savage snarling. He drew his large sheath knife and prepared to help Ox fight off the coyote that was fighting so savagely that his dog didn’t have an opportunity to roll off his back and get back to his feet.
Herb was worried about Ox. So far, the canine had managed to avoid being mortally wounded, but he was taking plenty of damage during the mauling. Herb was about to try kicking the coyote away from Ox when a fawn-colored blur of motion swept past him. It collided with the anizombie that had its back to Sheba when she launched her attack. Working together, Ox and his American Mastiff mate, Sheba, soon crippled the animal and wounded it with what would have been mortal wounds had it been a normal animal.
Herb reached the still struggling anizombie and placed his boot on the back of its neck, pinning its head to the ground in the process. He then stabbed it in the top of the head and ended its struggles.
“Herb, we need to get back inside now,” Randy said, getting Herb’s attention.
Herb heard the woman crying and screaming, as if in torment, and turned his attention to the two people who had been attacked by the pack of anizombies. He saw one of the men looking at the bundle she carried with sorrow evident on his face.
“It’s a baby. One of the anizombies bit it. We’ve got to get them to the clinic,” Randy explained.
“Get them inside. I’ll check on these anizombies, and then I’ll be along.”
Randy didn’t debate the matter with Herb. Instead, he left the archers with his friend and headed for the gate with the new arrivals following in his wake.
Herb and the rest of the team took the time to check each of the anizombies. Most had been killed during the brief, but vicious fighting, but a few had survived their wounds that had incapacitated them. The archers finished them off, and then the team returned to the refuge.
“You’ll need to get a team together to dispose of the bodies,” Herb said to Jason when he entered the gate. Then he asked, “Where are Hernando and Ed?”
“They went with Randy to act as guards,” Jason replied. “They also took Jesse with them.”
“Okay then, I’ll be tending to the dogs, and then I need to check on the new arrivals.”
“I’ll see to the mess outside. Don’t worry about that.”
“Oh, who let Sheba out?” Herb asked.
“I did,” Jason said. “I saw that coyote roll Ox on his back and so did Sheba. She went crazy tearing at the fence trying to get out, so I let her out. She’s probably going to have a sore mouth from yanking at the wire.”
“You may have saved Ox. I was afraid to shoot for fear of hitting him, and with his reflexes the coyote wouldn’t have been easy for me to kill with my knife. I’ve seen anizombies before, but he was one of the quickest and most agile I’ve ever seen. It makes me wonder if an alpha animal might be a stronger anizombie than the average.”
“That would make sense. After all, they are stronger and faster than the average specimen of their species,” Herb heard Erma say from behind him. He turned to see his wife and Amy standing there with a medical bag.
“Randy sent us. He said Ox and Sheba got in a brawl with an anizombie coyote,” Amy said.
“Right. Let’s get them to the cabin and see to their wounds,” Herb said. He was thankful for the help, but concerned that one of the big canines might bite the women as they treated their wounds.
As they worked with the animals, they soon discovered that most of the wounds were not ver
y deep. Of course, even with shallow wounds there was always the threat of an infection. The nanobots that had been perfected by Erma would protect the animals from the Akins’ parasites, but would not help at all against other, more mundane, infections. Amy treated the animals’ wounds while Herb worked to keep them calm. Erma worked beside Amy, handing the woman the supplies she needed to treat both dogs. She was learning as much as she could from the former farm girl about animal husbandry.
“There now, all finished. They’ll be fine in a couple of days,” Amy said.
“Thanks, ladies. I appreciate your help. I’d better put them in the kennel for now and get to the clinic to check on the new arrivals,” Herb responded.
“I’ll always do what I can to help the dogs when they’re wounded,” Amy promised, but then she said, “You’d better decontaminate before going into the clinic. I hear they are working on an infant that’s in bad shape and there’s no telling what sort of diseases those anizombies could have been carrying, some of which could be every bit as deadly to an infant as the Akins’ parasites.”
“She’s right,” Erma interjected. “All three of us need to decontaminate after handling the dogs that fought that animal.” Then she said to Herb, “By the way, did you touch the anizombies?”
“Yes, I did. I held one down with my foot while I knifed it in the head,” Herb explained.
Erma shook her head. “Then Amy is right. You shouldn’t go into the clinic until you are decontaminated. The baby could survive its wounds only to die of a secondary infection.”
“You’re right. I wasn’t thinking about that,” Herb stated. “I’ll decontaminate first. Would you bring me a fresh uniform and my spare boots? I’ll change in the decontamination shack out back.”
Herb was referring to a small wooden structure that amounted to little more than a dressing room that the team used when returning from missions outside the refuge.
“Of course. I’ll bring the gear as soon as we decontaminate our hands, wrists, and forearms. That should be more than adequate for us. We’re clean except for our hands.”
Herb put the dogs in the kennel, and then he went to the decontamination shack. He had just finished cleaning his knife when Erma knocked on the door with his fresh change of clothing and boots. He thanked his wife and dressed quickly. He was in a rush to get to the clinic and check on the new arrivals.
Chapter 3
The crisis.
When he reached the clinic, Herb knew right away that something was wrong. Hernando was waiting outside the examination room with Jesse and Ed. All of the men appeared to be disturbed. “Where’s Randy,” Herb asked.
“He is in the examination room with the doctor and his nurse, as well as the new arrivals. He asked us to wait out here for you. There is something you need to know.”
Herb knew that he was about to hear bad news and feared that the baby wouldn’t live. He said, “Okay, I’m listening.”
“The infant they have with them has already turned. The little girl was bitten by something small two days ago. The parents were trying to get her here where they had heard it rumored we could cure the ‘zombie affliction.’ Those are their words.”
“Shit!” Herb murmured softly to himself.
Hernando nodded. “Randy knows what needs to be done, but the parents are adamant that they want us to try to save their baby. And that’s not the worst news. The father is wired with a bomb.”
“What?” Herb asked in surprise.
“It’s true,” Jesse confirmed. “He is demanding we save the child or he will detonate the bomb he has concealed in his boot. He says it is a small, but powerful, device that is capable of destroying everything in a ten foot radius.”
“Are you sure he isn’t bluffing?” Herb asked hopefully.
“We didn’t see the bomb, but we did see the detonator he is holding in his hand. Wires run from it to the waistband of his pants. I assume they travel down his leg to his right boot,” Hernando explained.
Herb frowned as he wondered how the detonator had been overlooked during the search, but now wasn’t the time to worry about that. What was done was done. Hopefully, there would be plenty of time later to get to the bottom of that issue, although he suspected the truth was as simple as the men being in a hurry to get a wounded infant in to see the doctor.
“Wait out here, Hernando. Jesse, I want you outside the entrance to the clinic. No one comes in until this is resolved. Ed, I want you to get Tommy Gunn. We may need his explosives expertise in a few minutes.”
“You are going in then?” asked Hernando.
“Yes, I am.”
“Try not to get too close,” Jesse advised as he headed for the door.
Herb knocked on the door to the examination room so that his entrance didn’t take the man with the bomb by surprise, and then he opened the door and entered the room.
“Stop right there, mister,” commanded the man Herb had seen carrying a baseball bat outside the refuge.
“That’s Herb,” Randy said. “He’s the man I said you’d need to talk to about this.”
The man nodded his head with a grim expression on his face. His frown deepened to a fierce looking scowl, so Herb knew the man was angry. “I want your people to heal our child, and do it now,” he said insistently.
“My name is Herb Bennett. What’s yours?” Herb asked, making an effort to maintain a calm tone of voice.
“What difference does that make? I just want you to make these people heal our baby,” the agitated man said.
“They can’t do that. Not if the child has already turned,” Herb said. He matched the visitor’s scowl with one of his own. “If it hasn’t turned yet, then it may be possible, but it’s a difficult and dangerous process. Not one I would recommend to you. The odds against the infant surviving are not good.”
“But there is a chance. Isn’t that right?” the man demanded.
“I’d need to see the child to know,” Herb said.
The man pointed to the cloth wrapped bundle on the examination table. “You can look, but don’t you kill her. If you do, I’ll detonate the bomb,” the father warned.
Herb stepped over to the table and unfolded the cloth that was draped over the infant. At first glance, he couldn’t tell that the baby had turned, but then it articulated a moan and turned its face toward his hand snapping at it in an attempt to bite him. “She has teeth?” Herb asked as he snatched his hand out of reach of the infant.
“I think the parasites accelerated development of teeth in order for the host to be able to spread them,” Doctor Fielding said. “And she only has a couple. Of course, she’d only need one to break the skin.” The doctor covered the child’s face again and she became still. “She seems to go dormant when her eyes are covered.”
Herb turned to face the couple whose child he had just inspected. “Were you nursing her?” he asked the mother.
The woman looked nervous at the question, causing Herb to suspect that she had been breastfeeding her daughter. “She bit you, didn’t she?” he asked.
The woman’s husband swiveled his head around to face his wife. “Oh, my God, I never thought about that. Did she bite you?” he asked.
“She didn’t mean to hurt me,” the woman said defending her daughter’s actions with tears in her eyes.
“We can save your wife easily enough,” Herb was quick to promise. “She hasn’t turned yet, so saving her won’t be a problem for us, provided you disarm the bomb and remove it.”
“I don’t believe you,” the irate father said.
“We have a cure that works to prevent the parasites from taking over the hosts. We are all immune to them now,” Herb explained.
“Then use it to save my wife.”
“We’ll be happy to do that, the moment you disarm the bomb,” Herb insisted.
“Heal my wife first. Then I’ll talk to you about disarming the bomb,” the man said doggedly.
Herb was about to argue, but then he saw the woman rub her
chest and frown. “When were you bitten?” he asked.
“Last night,” the woman answered readily.
“How many puncture wounds are there?” Doctor Ezra Fielding asked.
“Just one. I was surprised because I’d never even seen the tooth before that feeding,” the woman responded.
“Is there a sharp burning sensation radiating outward from the wound?” the doctor asked.
“Yes, and it seems to be giving me a bad headache too,” the woman replied.
“I need to give her the inoculation now, Herb. Any delay could be fatal at this point,” the doctor stated.
“Do it,” Herb said. He didn’t like relinquishing the bargaining chip of healing her before her husband disarmed the bomb, but knew enough about the progression of the parasites in a host body to know that the doctor was right. There was no time to waste in arguing. If the parasites were already causing headaches, then they had migrated to the brain.
The doctor administered the injection of nanobots under the watchful eyes of her husband, who then renewed his demands when he said, “Thanks for treating my wife. Now it’s time to heal our baby.”
“No,” Herb said quietly but firmly. “We’re not touching her while you’re threatening us with a bomb. You said you’d talk to us about disarming it when we cured your wife. We kept our word and did that. If you won’t keep your word and discuss disarming the bomb now, then why should we believe you’ll do so after we treat your baby?”
“Okay, we’ll discuss the bomb,” the concerned father said. “Pushing the button on this control activates it,” he explained with a nod at the stick-like control in his right hand and his thumb, which held the plunger down. “If I let go of the button, it will spring back up and the bomb will detonate.”
“If you disarm it, then we’ll see what we can do for the baby,” Herb promised.
“I can’t just take your word on that,” the man argued. “There’s too much at stake.” Turning to the doctor, the man added, “Enough about the bomb. Doctor, heal my baby.”
The doctor looked to Herb for guidance. “I did tell him that I can’t cure the child. The parasites have already taken control of her body. She has turned already. It’s too late to cure her.”