Convergence: The Zombie War Chronicles - Vol. 2

by Damon Novak

  He was belted to the chair at the waist. Nobody appeared to be at risk from the doctor’s actions.

  Suddenly the doctor stood. He said, “I did not ask permission to do this, but you must know. All of you. What you are seeing here is irreversible. I will prove it now.”

  The doctor produced a handgun from behind him somewhere. Suddenly, a panicked voice sounded from the distance, joined by several others. The camera jerked, then pointed at the studio lights, showing nothing but glare.

  “Damnit!” came the doctor’s voice, and the next thing I saw, the camera was moved hastily back into position.

  The doctor walked by, held out the gun and fired once into the man’s chest. Then again, right at his heart. And a third time. And a fourth. With his fifth shot into the man’s chest, he stood aside and pointed. “See?”

  Nothing had changed about the thing. It wasn’t dead. It still struggled side-to-side, trying to escape.

  “You see they do not die. Not that way. But this.”

  He jammed the gun straight down against the black brain and fired a single round.

  The body went limp.

  “They are already dead. I cannot explain it. I also cannot deny it. One last thing I would like to point out; some of the patients in the hospital were bitten or scratched by the infected. This leads me to the conclusion that any contact with an infected individual could potentially result in transmission of the virus.

  “I suggest you gather up anyone who is not infected and go to an isolated location nearby. Perhaps the government can get this under control. Your infected loved ones will never be cured. Save yourselves if you want to save humanity.”

  With that, the doctor stepped out of the camera’s view, leaving me to stare at the dead monster.

  Just like the monsters on the other side of that door.

  The monsters that I had once loved.

  I checked my gun. Ejected a round, just to make sure. Checked the magazine.

  I didn’t know I was about to do what I did until it was done. I leaned forward and reached for the doorknob. Turning it, I pulled and swung it toward the wall, leaning back in my office chair.

  “Heather, Petey,” I said, slapping my hand repeatedly on my desk.

  Like obedient pets, they came.

  Heather came in first. I’d never kill her son in front of her. I held up my shaking hand and put a bullet right between her eyes.

  My tears began to flow again, so many of them that my vision became blurred, and I struggled to blink them away as my son, Peter Rode, staggered into the room.

  As his dead mother collapsed to the carpet, he never even looked down at her.

  I held the gun out with both trembling hands, squeezed my eyes closed, and fired.

  I didn’t open them until I heard the thump of his body hitting the floor. I had prayed he would fall face down, but the shots had knocked his tiny frame backward, and he lay in the hallway, propped against the wall.

  I’d put two in his head. I choked back the vomit that rose in my throat as I jumped over Heather and turned my face away from my dead boy as I moved past his now motionless body.

  Leaving Brandon’s mother to claw at our bedroom door, I hurried back to my motorcycle on weak legs.

  I went back to the only place I knew to go. The radio station.

  Ω

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  The sun was just sinkin’ when Pa’s ham radio crackled to life, then shut up again. All I caught was, “Sixteen meters – 17.48-17.90 Mhz is supposed to be best for day and night –”

  “CB! Was that the DJ dude?”

  “Hell yeah. Fuckin’ thing’s still on frequency scan.”

  I flipped the dial back to fixed frequency and locked in on the one the DJ had just mentioned. I made a mental note to keep it there from now on.

  Micky Rode’s voice came back on.

  “Things have taken a turn people,” he said, his voice conspiratorially low. “I told you we were trying to avoid big cities, but we were on the outskirts of St. Louis and I guess there was an amphitheater I wasn’t aware of. The road was supposed to be rural, but not when this thing hit.

  “I guess it was an all-day charity fundraiser or something, with ZZ Top as the main draw. Unfortunately, it’s an open-air venue, and I’m guessing when that black rain fell, everyone got doused. I mean, rain wasn’t even in the forecast as far as I’ve been able to research.

  “Anyway, the street we were caravanning down was dark and empty, and if someone would’ve asked me to rank how good our choice of a route was, I’d have said it was the best. I was dead wrong. Literally.”

  “Wonder if he lost anyone,” said Danny.

  “Sounds upset,” said Georgie, sitting on the bench seat beside me. We’d anchored the Sea Ray, all ready for some rest and time to plot our course for fuel and our final port of entry.

  Speakin’ of ports of entry, I could feel Georgina Lake beside me, and occasionally, her arm would brush mine.

  It was like electricity. I really don’t know what’s gotten into me lately, but this whole zombie apocalypse has turned on my horny switch. Hell, maybe it’s a side-effect of the black rain, but all I can think about is that doctor layin’ in my bed, those warm breasts against my chest.

  “CB!” shouted Danny. “You hear that?”

  I startled back to the present, feelin’ embarrassed, but I’m not sure why. Nobody knew what was on my mind.

  “No, sorry, man! Spacin’ out. What’d he say?”

  “Fucker lost thirteen people in his damned party!”

  “Jesus,” I said, opening my ears again.

  Rode continued, only this time I was listening.

  “… didn’t know them very well, but all of them were willing to come along and help. I feel like I let them down; led them right to their deaths. Yeah, I told everyone to keep their windows up and don’t get out of their vehicles for any reason, but I guess some survivors were hiding in the trees alongside the road, and when they saw us coming, they ran out to … well, to see if we’d save their lives.

  “All we did was lose some of ours. Not one of those people made it. Four of the cars opened their doors to save those people, and everyone was overrun with zombies. We jumped the median and drove back around to see if anyone could be saved, but all we could see in the stopped cars and SUVs was blood smearing the windows.”

  Lilly had come in with Terry and Liam. She sat, Nokosi at her feet, and intertwined her fingers as she listened. Roxy was still mad at me for the joke I’d played on Terry, so I understood why she didn’t want to be around me right then. She was sleepin’ in her small berth.

  Liam yawned and closed his eyes after settlin’ down on the couch. The kid was exhausted. I guess it had all caught up with him. When I heard what Rode said next, I was glad he’d conked out.

  “But there was something else,” said Rode, his voice shaky. “They’re strong. Really strong. Ever tried to take a big steak and just tear it in half with your bare hands? Well, it’s meat. Just like we are. Those monsters tore arms off. Maybe chewed through them first, but they ripped arms from bodies. Bone snapped and everything. I guess I’m going on about it because I was shocked today.”

  “I see why,” said Lilly. “All the more reason to shoot them from a distance.”

  “Remember what it was like before we knew what was really happening,” said Danny. “People changin’ out of the blue, and you didn’t expect someone you love to try to kill you. I bet lots of folks were surprised and ended up dead.”

  “If they were lucky,” I said. “I keep thinkin’ of poor Sonya. Talk about bein’ taken by surprise.”

  Rode interrupted me, and I shut up.

  “So, you have to be careful out here, and realize there’s no police or military presence that I’ve seen. Nobody who’s joined us has, either. What this means is our little mission, whether it’s genius or foolishness, is still valid. I don’t know if anyone else out there has a plan, but if they do, I haven’t caught wind
of anything on my radio.”

  “He’s been the only voice we’ve come across, as crazy as that sounds,” I said.

  Everyone nodded in agreement. They all looked a little more worried than before, and I got why. Rode may not even be aware of the crocodilian problem, which I have to assume affected not only gators and crocs, but caymans and a shit-ton of other creatures in the same family.

  “Our destination hasn’t changed,” said Rode. “For now, set your GPS to Lebanon, Kansas, and be careful. All we’ve got to go on still goes back to that video, but we’ve watched it more times than anyone else, I’m guessing. We know he manipulated that broadcast, and we’re going to find him.

  “Worst case scenario, we get to the Henomawi Reservation and find out it’s the same as everywhere else. If that’s the case, and we can verify the Indian is dead, we’ll just make a new plan. Don’t bother asking me what that is. I have no idea. Stay safe. We’ll see you in Lebanon.”

  That was it. I turned to everyone else. “Well, that ain’t good.”

  Lilly glanced at Liam, and I knew she was makin’ sure he was asleep. She whispered, “You mean the part about them being able to rip body parts off with their hands and teeth?”

  Everyone nodded.

  “Are we sure we’re not better off just finding somewhere safe and hunkering down?” asked Georgina. “I almost lost Roxy once. And it’s not just the people, it’s the crocs and gators, too. I wonder if Rode knows that.”

  “All the more reason to get outta gator country,” I said. “Gulf states don’t seem like the best option these days.”

  “We need to inventory our ammo and keep our guns in good workin’ order,” said Danny. “I know y’all have a good amount, but with what that Rode dude said, we could go through what we got fast.”

  “He’s right,” said Lilly. “We’ve got time on our hands. Let’s spend this evening doing that. Maybe on our next stop we can resupply ammo, get more weapons, too.”

  I got up and looked off to the east, at the Florida shoreline. “Anchor seems to be holdin’. Thank God for calm waters. Let’s get all the guns and do it in the salon. I’ll set up the table.”

  “So, we’re still planning on following the DJ?” asked Terry. “Wonder if they’re hearing him in Lebanon.”

  “For now let’s stick to the plan. If somethin’ better comes along the way, we’ll exercise our democracy and make a decision together. Nothin’ holdin’ us to anything.”

  Everyone agreed with me. I didn’t see that we had much choice anyway.

  Ω

  We had too many guns to clean, and a few of ‘em that none of us knew exactly how to break down. Don’t get me wrong; I can take nearly anything apart and put it back together, and I’ll take pictures of it if I’m not sure I’ll remember. But that kinda stuff takes time, and I didn’t want to disable a weapon that was in good workin’ order, just because I was an idiot.

  Some of ‘em were self-explanatory to break down. I could figure out any of the regular shotguns or handguns, and Georgie even had a good handle on a couple I didn’t.

  But if none of us felt comfortable breakin’ a weapon down, we cleaned what parts we could get to. I mean, there’s nothin’ worse than a spring or a little rod poppin’ out and rollin’ under a table, leavin’ us with a useless weapon. I did manage to figure out the DP-12, though. I wanted that puppy to work, so I was just careful.

  We did the inventory, too. We had a good amount of ammo for most of the guns, but if what Rode said was true, anything we had left in stock when we got to Lebanon would be put to good use.

  More 12-gauge shells, 9mm rounds and .45 rounds were top on the menu. We had a lot of the .22, and with only Liam and Terry, and maybe Roxy shootin’ that ammo, it would last a while.

  I was glad we were well-stocked, but I wanted way more. Nobody ever complained about having too much ammo. The worst words you can yell in the English language when you’re under attack are “I’m out!”

  Liam looked comfortable when we’d headed down to get started on the guns, so we left him on the flybridge bench seat, sleepin’. He’d need to know some of this stuff, but we could teach him in good time. For now, I’d prefer he stay a kid, as much as possible.

  A kid who listens, but a kid just the same.

  “So, up and at ‘em early?” I asked. “Danny, how far to Fort Walton?”

  “We got about 95 miles to go,” he said. “If conditions hold, maybe three, four hours in the mornin’.”

  “Help me set up the beds and let’s turn in,” I said. “It’s been a day.”

  We all moved the seat cushions from the table, and I pushed the button that lowered it to the bench level. Once we pulled out the extension and put the cushions back on, it was a decent, comfortable full-sized bed. It was where Liam and Terry slept.

  Georgina and I retreated to the main cabin. I was still surprised Lilly didn’t demand a switch. The bed she was sharin’ with Danny was a cot compared to the one we had.

  I slid the door closed while Georgie crawled into what I guess had become our bed. I can’t say I was bothered by that at all.

  “Made it through another day,” she said, sitting up, propping herself up on an elbow.

  “Thanks to everyone.”

  “Except Terry, right?”

  “He’ll learn,” I said, pullin’ off my pants and shirt. I sat on the edge of the bed and pulled off my underwear and crawled in.

  “Generator on tonight?” asked Georgie.

  “Yeah. Plenty of fuel to get to Fort Walton,” I said. “Danny said so, and he knows his shit. I think he’s read that damned Sea Ray manual from front to back.”

  I slid beneath the light sheet and blanket and put my arm over Georgie’s shoulder. She snuggled in, and I snuggled back.

  Her head on my chest, she said, “Have you had any bouts of hopelessness yet?”

  I stroked her hair without really realizin’ I was doin’ it. “Hard to feel hopeless with you right here.”

  “It’s hard to know if what we’re doing is the right thing,” she whispered, as though afraid somehow her daughter would hear her voice her fears.

  “Nobody’s ever faced anything like this before,” I said. “Believe me, this is a trail I’d rather not blaze.”

  She was quiet for so long I was sure she’d fallen asleep. Then: “I want to get medical supplies. Any one of us could get hurt. Butterfly bandages, rubbing alcohol, suture materials, needles. Scalpels, too. Maybe some portable lights, in case something happens that requires more extensive procedures.”

  “You’re right,” I said. There were a thousand ways to get injured, and the more medical supplies she had, the better for all of us. “Make a list tomorrow when we get underway. A hospital or clinic run should be on our schedule.”

  “You get bit, you change, right?” I said. “Like with Clay.”

  “We still don’t know if that was a delayed result of the black rain,” she said. “Yes, Tanner bit him, but that might’ve had nothing to do with it.”

  “Don’t even say that,” I said. “Man, I don’t want to believe any one of us could change anytime.”

  “It’s been long enough now that I’d think we’d be exhibiting some symptoms. I have no idea why we aren’t affected, but I’m not looking that gift horse in the mouth.”

  We didn’t do anything that night but sleep. I didn’t mind; when I woke up in the morning, around 5:45, Georgie was already in the shower in the corner bathroom.

  I joined her. It was tight in there.

  The shower, I mean. It was a small shower.

  She didn’t complain. Neither did I.

  Ω

  We’d anchored in about twenty feet of water, and it was calm. Before anyone else got up, I snuck around the kitchenette and made coffee, tryin’ not to wake Terry and Liam, then poured myself a cup and headed out to stand on the bow.

  Lookin’ out at the shoreline, smokin’ another of Lilly’s Marlboros and watchin’ the sun begin to peek over t
he eastern horizon, I noted there weren’t as many ragin’ fires burnin’. Maybe they’d burned themselves out.

  I considered the causes of the fires in my head, but it could’ve been anything; people settin’ fire to buildings crammed with the living dead, or errant lightning strikes that no longer had any opposition from the local fire departments.

  It was nice before the sun came up and really started blazin’. I wouldn’t call it cool at 78 degrees, but it was nice.

  I flicked the butt over the edge, 99% sure some damned sea turtle would get it caught in his fuckin’ eye – if goddamned Greenpeace was right. I figured all the sea life was gonna have it so good with most of humanity no longer consumin’ goods and generatin’ trash, I had to ease them into the apocalypse with my own contribution.

  I pulled the anchor myself. There was no danger of driftin’ into anything, ‘cause there wasn’t anything out there to drift into. Then I trotted up to the flybridge, half a cup of coffee in hand, and fired the engine.

  That’s what probably woke everyone else up.

  Everyone but the kid eventually dragged their asses up to say good mornin’, but it was muggy, so they all retreated back into the air conditioning. I could’ve gone down and piloted the boat from the cool of the salon, but I liked bein’ higher up, ‘cause it gave me a feelin’ of security.

  There was pancake mix in the cupboard, and it was the kind where you just had to add water and a little vegetable oil, and we had both. Georgina brought me a 3-stack of pancakes and a full cup of coffee to refresh mine.

  She didn’t leave, and eventually, Lilly and Danny came up.

  “Couple hours to Fort Walton?” asked Danny.

  “Yep, almost exactly. I’m keepin’ it to 30 miles an hour, and it’s about 64 miles from here.”

  “How will we find gun stores?” asked Lilly.

  “We need to be careful as hell,” said Danny. “Fort Walton Beach is a tourist town, so even this time of year, I’m sure they had their visitors.”