The Zombie Principle

by David R Vosburgh

Captain Morris met his soldiers in the open field about twenty yards south of the convoy. They had set up a perimeter stretching from one end of the trucks to the other. The infected were now less than fifty yards away and closing. He dropped extra magazines on the ground at each man’s feet, keeping a few for himself.

  They had room to retreat if necessary but he was hoping it would not come to that. The men were making their shots count as per the Major’s standing order. If they did run out of ammunition, each man was equipped with a standard issue combat knife.

  As the infected approached, the Captain moved back and made his way to his Humvee and climbed up into the gunner’s cupola to man the fifty caliber machine gun. He was not sure how much ammo the big gun had left but no matter what was left, he had a feeling it would all be used before this was over.

  Nick was the first to reach Screaming Eagle Boulevard. He started crossing the entrance lane when he noticed a small black object in the white median separating the entrance lane and the exit lane. When he came upon it he immediately recognized it as a gun case; more specifically, Kim’s gun case. Before he had time to consider how it ended up here, he detected movement coming from behind their cargo truck.

  Nick bent over and placed Danielle on the ground. She turned and ran toward her mom. Nick picked up the gun case and slowly made his way across the median. Dropping Jason’s club, he raised his hand and turned around to alert the rest of the group to his discovery. He motioned them to stay back as he approached the truck.

  Moving slightly to the left so he could come up from behind, he was startled to see a group of three … no four infected hunched down over something between the cargo truck and the fuel truck. The full horror of what was unfolding became apparent when one of the infected, a man in a jogging suit, turned around to face Nick and began to slowly stand up.

  It revealed the familiar white polo shirt and faded blue jeans of one Dave Patel; the shirt now torn and covered in blood. Nick froze for a second. The sight of his friend lying on his back, covered in blood, made him want to vomit. Somehow he managed to keep all the junk food he had eaten over the last few days in his stomach. The zombie in the jogging suit now started moving in Nick’s direction. The other infected took no apparent interest in him at the moment.

  He looked down at the gun case in his hand. He could not remember the combination. Turning around he screamed in Kim’s direction.

  “Kim! The code.”

  Kim, still unable to see the other zombies huddled over Dave but could see the one heading directly at Nick, had to think for a second.

  “2-3-6-6,” she yelled. It was Marcus’ father’s birthday; February 3rd, 1966.

  Nick turned the case so the lock was facing up. He quickly moved his thumbs over the tumblers so that it read 2-3-6-6. The lock clicked and he opened the case revealing the Glock. Grabbing it, he checked to make sure there was a clip in the handle; there was. He grabbed the other two spares and shoved them in his jeans’ pockets.

  The zombie was no more than five feet from Nick now as it approached the far side of the exit lane. He dropped the case, pulled back on the chamber loading a round, and leveled the weapon at the zombie’s head. He pulled the trigger but nothing happened.

  “Damn it, the safety,” he thought.

  He clicked the safety off and took aim again. He stared at the zombie in front of him; arms outstretched and blood dripping from his lips; Dave’s blood. He pulled the trigger again, this time the Glock discharged ripping through the zombie’s nose and out the back of its skull. It fell with a thud at Nick’s feet.

  He stepped over the fallen zombie and took aim at the other three hovering over Dave’s body. They were now aware of Nick’s presence. Each started to get up one by one and turn towards him. He never let any of them get to their feet as he blasted holes in each of their skulls: the last one falling back on top of Dave.

  Nick waited a second to make sure they were not getting back up before approaching the back of the truck. He carefully kicked the zombie in the dark green flight suit off of Dave’s corpse. He was obviously bitten but was otherwise intact. It must have just happened.

  He started to turn away and rejoin Lucy, Kim, and the kids to make sure they were alright when a chilling thought occurred to him. Would Dave turn into one of them? Was he dead? Should Nick make sure he did not … wake up?

  He looked down at the Glock in his hand. The butt of the gun was wet with sweat. It felt like it could easily just slip out of his hand. He looked back down at Dave who was just lying there. The sound of gunfire from the other side of the convoy rattled in Nick’s brain.

  He turned around and pointed to the Humvee at the front of the convoy.

  “Lucy, you guys head to the first Humvee and climb inside. Lock the doors and keep your heads down.”

  Lucy nodded and ushered Kim and the kids toward the Major’s Humvee. Jason picked up his father’s club. Lucy looked back and met Nick’s gaze. He did not have to say anything. She knew Dave was dead; first Emma, now Dave. She was not sure how much more of this she could take.

  Nick turned his attention back to his friend lying on the pavement in front of him. His hands began to tremble as it became clear to him what he needed to do. He wiped the sweat from his upper lip with his sleeve as he lowered the gun and pointed it at Dave’s head. He double checked to make sure the safety was off.

  His concentration was broken by the sound of coughing. He looked around and saw no one. The zombies he had shot earlier were still lying on the ground, as dead as before. When he heard it a second time he stared down at Dave. His body began to twitch and his mouth had moved slightly.

  Nick suddenly felt a great sense of relief. His friend was okay. He took a step forward but something told him to be careful. It was the culmination of everything that had happened the last week. Nothing these days was as it seemed. The world he grew up in did not exist anymore.

  His suspicions were confirmed when Dave’s eyes opened and he turned and looked at Nick. Those were not the eyes of his friend. They were the eyes of the undead. Dave started to rise and was now sitting on the pavement. He started to drool and utter growling sounds.

  Nick had seen enough infected that he recognized the symptoms immediately. He again lowered his weapon and aimed it at his friend. He knew the only thing left to do was pull the trigger, but he could not do it.

  The thing that used to be Dave stared at Nick as he pointed the gun at it. They both remained motionless for a few seconds. Dave suddenly rose up and lunged as Nick finally pulled the trigger hitting his friend in the side of the head just above the ear. It convulsed once and then was still.

  Nick fell to a knee and put his free hand in his face. It was by far the most difficult thing he had ever had to do. It was something he had to do he told himself. He was certain, however, that he had never felt worse in his life. His brief moment to mourn his friend was interrupted by Lucy’s voice.

  “The door won’t open!” she yelled from the front of the convoy.

  Nick stood up, flipped the safety back on the gun, and jammed it in his waistband.

  “Just as well,” he thought. He suddenly did not feel safe around the convoy.

  Stephen and Corporal Levine headed back toward the lodge, stopping after running about twenty-five yards. They now had a full view of the infected in front of them. There was still almost two dozen left but it appeared no more were coming from the buildings.

  Corporal Levine began targeting the nearest zombies as soon as they arrived. Stephen used his axe to take care of any that the Corporal missed. They had a pretty good system working. He found that coming down hard on top of the cranium worked better and more efficiently than attempting to decapitate them.

  One zombie had taken a wide route around them and had actually snuck up on them from behind. Corporal Levine had lost sight of him but Stephen caught his arrival out of the corner of his eye. He pivoted quickly and chopped down at an angle catching the zombie just above the left ear. It w
as enough to knock it down but it still moved. Stephen finished him off with a final blow to the head.

  He was about to turn around and continue helping Corporal Levine when he took notice of the arm band the zombie was wearing. It was black with white letters: MP. He was a member of the base’s military police. Stephen kicked him over so he was lying on his back. Looking down at his waist he saw what he was looking for, a holster with a sidearm attached.

  He bent down quickly and unbuttoned the holster and removed the gun. It was similar to the one Captain Morris showed them how to use at the airfield. He checked for a clip, there was one already loaded. He pulled back on the chamber and heard it click. Finding the safety he flipped it to the off position and took aim at the closest zombie. He pulled the trigger. The gun fired. He was a little surprised by the recoil but it did not affect the accuracy of the shot much because he was at such close range.

  Corporal Levine was startled at the sound of gunfire originating so close to him that did not come from his gun. He looked over at Stephen who had a look on his face resembling that of a teenager who just asked the prettiest girl in class out and she actually said yes. Levine just shook his head and went back to removing the skulls of the approaching zombies.

  Captain Morris watched from the gunner’s cupola as the zombies closed the gap between themselves and the soldiers. The field was littered with fallen bodies but there was still a large group of infected moving toward the convoy.

  He was waiting a few more seconds before opening fire with the fifty caliber machine gun. When fired on fully automatic, what the weapon lacked in accuracy it made up for in ferocity. As he gripped the machine gun’s handles preparing to fire he thought about Major Bradley. The infected had appeared so suddenly that he never had time to inform the Major.

  He switched his comm link to channel four and pushed the button.

  “Major Bradley, come in.”

  He waited for a second but got no response.

  “Major Bradley, Come in. Please acknowledge.”

  There was nothing but silence. Dead silence.

  Chapter 31

  The Plan

  Gunner explained his idea to the Doctor as they crossed Indiana Avenue and traveled along the western side of the road heading south making their way to the back side of the hospital. He said it loud enough for the Major to hear but never spoke directly to him. Dr. Sanderson cleared up any details that the Major missed. The plan, as conceived by Gunner, was fairly straight forward.

  Gunner and his team, minus the Doctor, would enter the hospital through the emergency doors which Gunner assumed were around back. This was confirmed when they crossed back over to the eastern side of Indiana Avenue and saw the signs for the emergency entrance. They would make their way up to the third floor and look for a maintenance room or supply closet that likely had an access hatch to the roof. They would find and capture Number 5 and return with him out the same door they entered.

  The Major and his men would take up positions behind a small group of trees in a median southwest of the emergency entrance that separated two different parking lots. Their job was to keep the exit clear of infected. The trees were about sixty yards away from the entrance. Close enough for the Major and his group to hit their intended targets but far enough away to not draw a crowd in front of the emergency entrance. It was also the Major’s responsibility to ensure Dr. Sanderson’s safety. That part of the plan was the only piece communicated directly to him by Gunner.

  “I need him alive when I return,” Gunner said in no uncertain terms.

  The back of the hospital was mostly devoid of infected. The approach to the emergency room door would be easy. The biggest question would be what awaited Gunner and his men once inside the hospital. If the interior of the hospital was as infected as the front, they would have a very difficult time getting in and out alive.

  Gunner and his men left the Doctor with the Major and his soldiers at the median and headed for the emergency entrance. They followed the access road in a tight formation; Gunner up front, Mikael and Stefan in the middle, with Ludvig bringing up the rear.

  They arrived at the entrance a minute later. There was a circular patch of grass in the middle of a paved area in front which helped create a sort of cul-de-sac. Arriving ambulances could pull up, drop off their patients, and then pull ahead and exit all without turning around. Of which, there was an ambulance parked haphazardly to the far left of the cul-de-sac.

  The entrance had a wide berth with an overhead cover that narrowed quickly at the doors. There were large automatic sliding glass doors used to wheel patents on gurneys in and out of the ward. To the left, was a standard door with a lever style handle.

  Looking through the glass sliding doors, Gunner could see that the reception area of the ward was free of infected. To the right was a long counter that stretched out of Gunner’s sight. To the left was a waiting area with chairs and a water cooler. A few magazines were scattered on a coffee table in the middle of the room and on the floor as well. A wide corridor headed straight back to a set of large white double doors.

  Gunner thought of entering through the sliding doors but decided if he opened the doors and could not get them shut it might be too inviting for the locals to come wandering in. He decided on the single door.

  Pulling on the handle he was surprised to find it open. As he and his men moved inside he was hoping that was the only surprise awaiting him.

  The Major, along with Sergeant Sanchez and Privates Sinclair, Stevens, and Diaz, huddled between a small cluster of trees in the middle of a grass median. It provided a good vantage point to keep an eye on the emergency entrance. To their right was a wide open field that would make it easy to spot any infected coming their way. Behind them was a parking lot that led into Indiana Avenue.

  Sanchez was keeping an eye on their six while the Major and Private Stevens had their weapons trained on the emergency doors. Diaz kept watch over the large field and Sinclair’s job was to keep the Doctor in his sights at all times.

  The Major watched as Gunner and his team entered the hospital. By his calculations it should take them no more than ten minutes to get to the third floor and locate the access hatch. Capturing and returning with an infected person was a little bit more of an unknown. He figured they had about fifteen to twenty minutes of usable daylight left. After that it would be very difficult to see who or what was in front of that entrance.

  There were only a few infected on this side of the hospital and they were currently no threat to either the Major or Gunner. He could easily have dispatched them but the sound of the gunfire would most likely attract more infected.

  “That Gunner is quite a guy,” the Major said to Dr. Sanderson.

  “That he is,” the Doctor responded. “He is what you might call a necessary evil. I must admit though, he has saved my skin a number of times so far and I never would have made it this far without him.”

  “He works for you I take it?”

  “Actually, he works for Benton Worthington III,” replied the Doctor.

  “Worthington?! What’s HE got to do with this?”

  “He had been funding my most recent work. I needed him to help me find my missing patient. So he offered his help, his plane, and his muscle.”

  The Major did a quick scan of the area; there was still no infected to be concerned with. From where they were positioned, it would be unlikely they would be able to see the far side of the roof. Therefore, there was almost no way to track Gunner’s progress. One thing was for sure, if Gunner did not come back out, he was not going in after him.

  “I’ve had the pleasure of meeting Worthington on a couple of occasions,” the Major said sarcastically. “He’s made several trips to D.C. over the last few years lobbying for one thing or another. The kind of money he has can buy a lot of influence.”

  “I know, I’ve been to his mountain retreat in Colorado. His money has money,” the Doctor responded.

  “I wouldn’t trust him
if I we’re you Doctor,” the Major warned.

  Dr. Sanderson has been worried about that for some time now. After the warning from Captain Bannon and now the Major, it seemed that Benton Worthington III had not earned a great deal of trust from those he has come in contact with. The Doctor’s own dealings with him have produced mixed feelings.

  If he was able to find a cure or some kind of antidote, he would need help distributing it. He figured Benton with all his connections would be the perfect person. He was now thinking he may need a plan B.

  “If by some miracle I am able to develop a cure, I will need some help getting it out to the masses … whatever masses are left,” the Doctor said. “Do you think the military would be able to do that?”

  “To be honest, I have had little contact with any other military personnel recently. I’m not sure how much of an organized military is left,” Major Bradley answered.

  “Well, if you think you may be able to help, once we have my patient in custody we’ll be heading back to the lab at Mr. Worthington’s estate in Colorado.” The Doctor unzipped his knapsack and reached into his bag pulling out a piece of paper.

  “Here is the address of his house there; if you can organize someway to deliver whatever I come up with, please help,” the Doctor added.

  The Major took the piece of paper and looked at it briefly before putting it in his jacket pocket. He was not sure what, if anything, he could do to help. But he felt that the doctor in front of him was confident of his ability to produce some kind of vaccine. Maybe standing in front of him was mankind’s only hope.

  “I’ll see what I can do Doctor,” the Major said.

  “Major,” Sanchez said suddenly, “we’ve got infected coming in from across the street.”

  After Gunner and his team had made it all the way inside, he went back and made sure the door did not automatically lock on him. He wanted to be able to open it quickly if needed when they returned. It had not.