The Zombie Virus (Book 2): The Children of the Damned

by Hetzer, Paul

  “That’s Mrs. Camilla Murchison,” Heinrich said, pointing to the taller of the two women with auburn hair like Jeremy’s momma had, “and that’s Miss Debra Benton.” He indicated the older dark-haired woman. They both smiled faintly and nodded to Jeremy who nodded back.

  “Let’s not forget Mr. Reese.” Heinrich gave a nod to the clean-shaven older man with rough, weathered skin dressed in civilian clothes who was leaning against the Stryker smoking a cigar. The man seemed to have appeared from out of nowhere. His gray hair was close-cropped and he had a glint of steel in his hard, blue eyes. He appeared to Jeremy to be fifty or sixty and was still all hard muscle packed on the frame of a prize-fighter.

  “Mr. Reese was Force Recon during Vietnam. A damned Jarhead!” Jeremy could tell by the tone of Heinrich’s voice that he highly respected the older man. Reese didn’t say a word, just blew a ring of smoke in their direction and grinned.

  “The last two members of our merry band of rogues are up on the rooftops manning the OP-LP’s. You’ll meet them later. Anyway, when you see a young dude with a shiny-black dome that kind of resembles his ass, that would be Private First Class Carroll, and you can tell him I said that,” he laughed.

  “The other is Mrs. Pickeral. You can’t miss her; she has a ponytail of coal black hair down to her… ” he paused, smirking. “Well, you’ll know her when you see her.”

  “So are you all soldiers?” Jeremy asked, indicating the civilian-clad members of the party.

  “Most of us were Army National Guard or Army reserve when the shit hit the fan.” Heinrich’s gravelly voice turned serious. “We’ve gotten some new recruits since then and lost a few too.” He frowned a moment at the memories. “We seem to be holding our own now. You’re the first newcomer in a few weeks.”

  “What’s your dog’s name?” Sarah asked as the shepherd came ambling up cautiously and sat next to Jeremy.

  “I call him Jumper.” He grinned, patting the dog on the head. “He saved my life.”

  Sarah smiled at him and his legs about melted.

  “I had a German Shepherd named Molly. She was my best friend.” Her smile faded. “She vanished a couple of days after people started getting sick.”

  “I need to get inside.” Heinrich nodded toward the doors. “Sarah, why don’t you show this young man where his accommodations are and then take him to the mess.” He addressed the group still milling around the open Stryker. “McCully, Nantz, make sure the Stryker is resupplied and refueled and I will see all you bozos in the debriefing room in thirty minutes.” He turned and entered the building as everyone else dispersed throughout the compound.

  “This way, Jeremy.” Sarah held her hand out, indicating the doors the others had entered through.

  Jeremy paused. “Wait a minute.” He went up to PFC McCully who was re-entering the Stryker. “Mr. McCully, you promised me some ammo.”

  The red haired man paused and smiled through his beard. “I did, didn’t I? Five-five six and 9 mil right?”

  Jeremy nodded.

  “I’ll have a load out for you on your bunk by the time you get back from the mess hall. Oh, and you can call me Rick.” He turned and entered the Stryker.

  Jeremy followed Sarah through dimly lit halls of the building with Jumper close on his heels. The building had an old musty smell to it even though it appeared to be well kept up. There was no electricity and the only light was what leaked in from open doorways of adjacent rooms that had windows high up on their walls.

  “How did you guys find me?” Jeremy asked as he walked a step behind the girl.

  “We were on a supply run when we heard your gunshots. We always try to rescue survivors if we find them, although sometimes the odds are just too suicidal and we don’t dare risk it. The swarm of crazies that were at that house was pretty small compared to some in the area. We can go up against a few hundred with the Stryker and survive if we can keep moving. So it was a no brainer to go in for the rescue.”

  They turned a corner and stopped at an open door.

  “Is everyone decent in here?” she called into the room. There was no reply.

  “Come on in and we’ll find you a bunk.” She led him into the large room set with steel-framed bunk-beds stacked two high. “There are a lot of empties, so choose whatever one you want that is open.”

  Jeremy walked around the room and chose two lower beds that were below a window. “Can Jumper stay in here with me?”

  She shrugged her shoulders. “I guess so. As long as he doesn’t make a mess in the room I don’t think anyone will care.”

  Jeremy threw his pack onto one of the bunks and took off the Sig AR pistol and sat it on the mattress. He sat on the other bed and patted the mattress. Jumper obediently hopped up and lay down next to him with his head on Jeremy’s lap. “I think he likes it here,” he said, smiling at the dog.

  “There are bed clothes in the foot lockers.” Sarah indicated the chests at the foot of the bunks.

  “Are you staying in here too?” Jeremy asked wishfully.

  Sarah laughed and patted his head. “No, sweetheart, the girls have their own bunkroom.”

  Jeremy felt his face turning red again and changed the subject. “Do you have to worry about Loonies here?”

  “Loon-?” she started. “Oh, the crazies? Sometimes. We pretty much know where most of the swarms are in and around town. They seem to always go back to the same place to bed down each night. When a swarm is spotted heading this way the lookout lets us know and we go to quiet mode where everyone stops what they’re doing and goes inside until the swarm passes.”

  “They don’t follow the sound of the truck?”

  “They do,” she answered. “However, we get in here quick and shut it down so they can’t zero in on us. Sometimes we get too near a group but they are easy to evade.”

  Jeremy pulled out neatly folded sheets and blankets from the foot locker and laid them on his bunk.

  “Do you need help putting those on?” Sarah asked. “Thank you,” Jeremy replied, agreeing to anything to keep her here longer.

  “How long have you been here?” he asked as they dressed the bunk with the sheets.

  “About a month and a half,” she answered. “You sure do ask a lot of questions.”

  He shrugged and looked away.

  She smiled at him knowingly. “It’s okay, sweetheart. I kind of like having someone new to talk with.”

  Jeremy brightened noticeably. “Where are you from?”

  Her smile faded a little. “Here in Staunton. I was on my own for a long time before they found me. It was a nightmare being in the city with all the crazies around me. I was with a couple other survivors, but I was the only one to be rescued. How about you?” she asked. “Where are you from?”

  “I’m from Southern Maryland.” he replied. “I’m on my way to our farm down in Virginia.”

  “Are you by yourself?”

  He peered down at his feet, his smile fading to a frown. “I am now. I got split up from my parents and the rest of our group months ago.” He looked up into her eyes. “I’m supposed to meet them at the farm.”

  She reached over and touched his cheek in sympathy. He reminded her very much of her brother David, whom she had watched get ripped apart by a group of crazies while she had stayed hidden in a dumpster. She had begged him stay put in the apartment across the street while she scavenged at the corner store. When the group of crazies had spotted her she had run to the only place she could find shelter; the dumpster filled with weeks of rotten trash. The crazies had clambered all over it trying to get in while she screamed in terror. Then she had heard David yelling at them to get away from her. She had peeked out the sliding door to see him running down the street leading them away. Then another crazy had run out from a side street and the two had collided and went down hard on the pavement. Within an instant the others were on him and it was over.

  The pain was still so raw that tears began flowing from her eyes and she gazed at Jeremy wit
h blurred vision. He looked a lot like her brother and she swore silently to herself that she would never stand by and watch him die like David had.

  She forced a smile and swiped at the tears.

  “You okay?” he asked, the concern evident in his voice.

  She nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine. Bad memories, you know?”

  He nodded back in understanding.

  “Come on, sport. Let’s get you to the mess and warm you up some chow.” She took his hand and led him out of the room.

  “How about Jumper?” He glanced back over his shoulder at the dog lying comfortably on the mattress of the other bed and wanted to bring him along, yet didn’t want to lose contact with the soft hand that held his.

  “I’m sure we can dig him up something until we can make a run for some dog food,” she replied as they left the room to the sleeping dog.

  First Sergeant Shavers stood at the briefing room’s conference table, staring at a large pieced-together map of the Staunton area, which included the surrounding towns of Waynesboro and Fishersville to the east, Verona to the north, and Stuarts Draft to the south. Each town was subdivided with the outlines of a red marker into zones, and in each zone were yellow highlighted points.

  The goal that day had been to get to the Allied Chemical plant in Waynesboro and liberate some white phosphorus. Running into the boy had drastically changed that plan. He thought about the swarm of crazies that they had eliminated that afternoon. It was another group that had gone undetected and could have caused a serious problem if they had encountered them dismounted. At least they wouldn’t be a concern anymore. There were two larger swarms that they knew existed in the area of operations around the chemical plant that they had planned on raiding today; several thousand in each group.

  The swarms went out each day in random directions searching for food. They scoured the land like locusts, leaving a path of destruction, eating anything that could be digested, living or dead, along the way.

  As of now, they were to be avoided at all costs.

  The 29th had observed over the past few weeks emaciated bodies of the crazies littering the dead zones after the swarms had passed. They had concluded that these were members of the swarms who were dying from starvation, wounds, and disease, although not at a fast enough rate of attrition to make a difference in the outcome of this conflict. It was hopeful that during the cold winter months they would see a larger attrition rate. Closer in to the armory in Staunton was an even larger swarm nesting less than a klick away. They were a very grave concern. If that group ever came at their compound they could be overrun and everyone inside killed in short order. The security fence would be not much more than tissue paper to that size of a group of tangos. They always kept a Stryker ready for just such a contingency. If shit were to go south and the Armory was threatened with being overrun, at least some, if not all, of the personnel could bug out in the Ready Stryker.

  They needed the white phosphorous, which was called Willie Pete in Army terminology, if they were going to try and fight these swarms with any chance of success. They had ideas for a trip-wire activated chemical improvised explosive device that should cause mass casualties of the crazies without any of his personnel having to endanger themselves any more than necessary. They would reschedule today’s aborted mission again for as soon as possible.

  Shavers thought back to the day of the ‘event’. He had been on post with several dozen men and women literally just back from deployment in Afghanistan. For most this had been their first deployment, for Shavers and Heinlich it had been their fourth together. He and the Sergeant had been the only members of the post that had at one time been regular Army. Shavers had retired after twenty and became a part-timer; at least that had been his plan before being called to active duty because of the mess in the Middle East. The same had pretty much happened to Heinlich, who had only served for eight years as a regular grunt. Then this shit had happened right after they had returned from goat country before either of them could even return to their normal lives.

  God hadn’t even granted him the opportunity to drive to South Carolina to visit his teenage son and ex-wife before the shit had hit the fan. On the day of the event, he was talking to his son when the boy’s mother, his ex-wife, had attacked Kyle. The sounds were horrific and heart-wrenching and the boy never returned to the phone. He hadn’t even had the chance to tell him that he loved him one last time. Now Kyle was either dead or one of the crazies. Either way, he was gone from him forever.

  By some miracle he and Heinlich had survived the initial sickness and turning, and had fought side-by-side against people who had once been their closest companions. It had been a turkey shoot, and had gone on until they had cleansed the armory of all infected personnel.

  Through the reserve list they were able to put out calls for the first week that power was available and get hold of about a dozen and a half of the 2500 or so of the reservists of the 29th that were stateside and were still alive and kicking. Of those, only ten made it to the base. That gave them a force of twelve.

  They had called themselves the ‘Dirty Dozen’.

  The first two months had taught them a lot, and had cost them a lot. Of the original Dirty Dozen, only six remained. He hadn’t had those kind of losses even in the worst of the engagements in goat country.

  They had been able to contact some fobgoblin at FORSCOM in Fort McPherson. He had been less than useless and it sounded like the base was overrun by crazies without any hope of the few Army personnel that were there reclaiming their territory. The command structure was shot to hell, if not non-existent. He was the highest ranking person of anyone that Shavers had contacted, reserve or regular. This made him the NCOIC, or non-commissioned officer in charge. It was a role he had filled before, although not without the support of command and logistics. Now, not only did he have to build and lead a fighting force, he was also responsible for supplying all the beans, bullets, and Band-Aids for that force.

  They were on their own and he was their leader. That responsibility was a heavy burden on his shoulders. He knew with God’s help he could do this, as he had always done in the past when shit needed to get done.

  He smiled to himself as he planned out the operations for the next few days and thought about their mission now. He was doing what his training and experience dictated: bringing the war to the enemy; fighting an offensive battle against the swarms of crazies. They would start in their immediate AO and then spread out to the rest of Virginia as they picked up and trained more fighters like the young kid from today. After Virginia they would go state by state if they had to until they reclaimed their country back from the filthy vermin that had infested it.

  A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts.

  “Come in,” he replied without looking up from the map.

  Sergeant Heinlich strode into the room and sat down heavily on one of the cushioned chairs.

  “Well, today was totally FUBARed.” He sighed as he took a sip of warm soda; the acronym meaning that the day had been Fucked Up Beyond All Recognition.

  Shavers finally looked up from the map at his Sergeant. “Not necessarily. The boy was a good find, the dog too. We need to start growing this Army again if we’re to eradicate the crazies.”

  “Hooah!” Heinlich replied, raising his soda can in the air in salute.

  The civvies who they found had the option of staying on only if they accepted his command and committed to being a soldier in this diminished Army. Anyone who chose not to stay was fed, allowed a good night’s rest, and was taken to the highway and sent on their way. It sounded harsh, however, if people weren’t willing to fight to survive in this horrible new world, then they would only be a liability to those that had the balls to take a stand against this relentless enemy. It would be an all-volunteer force, yet once you were committed, you were here for the duration. They would follow the UCMJ as if the command structure was still intact. So far everyone they had met had volunteered to join the remnant
s of the U.S. Army.

  “We still need that Willie Pete,” Heinlich said after another swig.

  Shavers nodded, tugging on his beard as he glanced at the map again.

  “Do you want to try again in the AM?” Heinlich asked.

  “No. We know better than to hit a target area again two days in a row. The swarms will be stirred up and could be anywhere. We have to give it a few days to calm down.”

  This time Heinlich nodded his assent. “It’s a shame there wasn’t more than just the kid and his dog. He sure as hell did a job on those crazies. Although I bet his pucker factor was high.”

  “I think most who have survived this long will have at least gained some combat experience against the crazies and will be easy to train for our group,” Shavers surmised.

  “You talking about the kid?” he asked. “It’s amazing that a boy that young has survived this long by himself.”

  “Children are resilient, they bounce back from adverse situations; they learn and adapt swiftly. They have a wonderful propensity to overcome their fear and tuck it away somewhere deep inside of them. They haven’t as yet developed the moral impediments that we as adults have acquired through experience or the wisdom bestowed on us by society, and therefore can become efficient killing machines without that moral guidance. We must make sure we convey that morality to them, yet on the other hand mustn’t coddle them if we want them to survive in this new world.”

  Shavers paused and looked Heinlich hard in the eyes. “God has brought this plague upon us and we are the chosen few who are left to carry out His will, which is to adhere to the Constitution of this great nation and see it returned to prominence.”

  “I’d be happy just to survive to see a new year,” Heinlich muttered. “Did you see the fence at that warehouse where that pack came from that attacked the kid? They flattened it like a runaway bulldozer. Doesn’t give me much faith that a larger force won’t breach our defenses.”

  Shavers nodded. “We mustn’t give them a reason to want to attack our perimeter.”