Some virus was hitting two states?
“Gosh darn it,” Bud told the principal. “What the heck is going on?”
The principal didn’t have an answer.
Bud himself, just wanted to get home and watch the news.
Just about four miles outside of Huntersville, Bud saw one car. An SUV with two women, and the one had a baby on her lap. Not in the back, not in a car seat, but on her lap. That irritated Bud and he actually wanted to report them. He would, too, so he memorized the license plate.
But first things first. Get the kids home.
Just before the exit, Bud hit the brakes gently. At first he thought his eyes were deceiving him, but then as he slowed down and got a closer look, he realized it wasn’t his eyes. It was a child. A little girl. Young too, walking the highway.
“What the heck?” Bud asked and slowed to a crawl. She was barely walking the side of the road, weaving in and out. Luckily for her there wasn’t any traffic or she would have been hit.
He pulled alongside the little girl and opened the door.
The little girl stopped walking, yet stared ahead.
“Little girl? Honey?”
“Mr. Bud?” One of the kids called. “Who’s that?”
“Don’t know.” Bud looked in the rearview mirror. “We’re gonna help her.” He called for the girl again. When she turned and looked at him, it was then Bud noticed she was covered in blood.
“Dear, God.” Bud gasped. He realized at that second, the child was hurt. He put the bus in park in case he had to get her and help her inside. “Sweetie, get on the bus.”
And she did.
But the little girl didn’t step up slowly; she charged full speed up those steps and dove on Bud, gnawing at him instantaneously before he had a moment to even comprehend what was happening.
The kids on the bus screamed.
But out on the highway, no one was around to hear them.
CHAPTER FIVE
North Carolina
The two women had met not a few hours earlier and already they had bonded. Irma Klein felt an immediate kinship to Lil Edwards. She was indebted as well, because had it not been for Lil, she and her grandson, Jerry would be dead.
At that gas station, surrounded. The van was out for the count and Irma had her barely two year old grandson, tucked between her body and the floor of the van, trying to protect him from the undead who relentlessly pursued.
The windows were breaking and they were getting closer. Irma spotted her revolver and had her fingers on the handle.
She wasn’t able to move her thicker body, it was wedged. She was stuck.
Her only option, or so she thought, was to spare her and Jerry and take their lives.
Then Lil arrived.
Lil, like Irma was on her way to find her husband Jack. Both of their husbands were together.
And Jack told Lil to turn around.
It was a good thing he did. Irma tucked her belongings in Lil’s SUV, and with Jerry on her lap, they headed to a place owned by a man named Garrick. A safe haven. A fortress Lil swore was safe.
They were a bit west of Fayetteville, Lil’s home town, and it seemed the more north they drove, the more back to normal things seemed. Irma still clutched little Jerry to her lap, she wasn’t taking any chances.
The last weird site Irma took in was that lone school bus traveling on the highway outside of Charlotte.
Just before Greensboro, the last leg of the trip, traffic increased. There were no longer one or two cars, but a steady flow. No one seemed to be rushing anywhere in particular or had an urgency to “get out of dodge.”
Lil turned on the radio and was able to pick up several stations, every single one of them talked about Atlanta being under quarantine and how the government was setting up a strict exodus of the city starting at five AM.
The incident at Fort Bragg was related to the same strain, but was contained within the perimeter of the base.
The news was an honest as could be, the newscasters relaying the information as they received it. According to the government, a group of soldiers were unknowingly infected with a biological weapon that induced rage- type seizures.
The bulk of the soldiers returned to Atlanta and Fort Bragg. A few of the soldiers were scattered about, but they were retrieved.
The virus was contained with the exception of Atlanta.
That was the report.
Lil and Irma knew otherwise.
The little gas station where they met, where Irma was attacked, was in South Carolina.
But by the looks of the outskirts of Greensboro, all was normal.
They needed fuel for the SUV and their bodies and felt safe in stopping at a interstate exit gas station and diner.
“Looks fine,” Lil said as she pulled into the station. “I don’t see any of them.”
“Were we in a nightmare?” Irma asked. “Really, these people seem clueless.”
“If things keep up the way they are, they won’t be clueless much longer.”
“Are we overreacting?” asked Irma. “Going into hiding?”
“Wouldn’t call it hiding,” Lil replied, pulling up to the pump. “More like lying low to stay safe.”
Irma sniffed. Her nose was still stuffy from crying. Tears that she was certain she would still shed were merely on pause. “I’m gonna go inside, get Jerry a hot dog from the convenience store. Maybe some other things like milk. What do you think?”
“I think it’s a good idea, but wait for me.”
“Oh, honey, absolutely.” Irma opened the passenger door and to her surprise a police officer stood there. She was startled and looked at him, really looked.
“Ma’am.” The officer nodded once. “Did you not have that child in a retraining seat?”
Irma was honest. “No, sir, I did not.”
“You realize that’s against the law.”
“Yes, I do.”
He peered in the SUV. “I don’t even see a safety seat at all.”
“And you won’t” Irma said strongly. “He won’t leave my arms. We barely made it out of Atlanta.”
He took a step back. “Atlanta? You were in Atlanta?”
“Oh, yeah, my husband is Director of the CDC. We were overrun; they tried to get the baby. I won’t let him out of my hold.”
The police officer didn’t ask any more questions, he stepped back even further. “Try to get a seat for him, please.” And he turned and went into the store.
Lil pumped the gas and Irma stood there, looking oddly confused. Why didn’t he question her? Why didn’t he ticket her? More importantly, why did he keep a distance?
Staying by Lil’s side, they finished pumping gas and headed into the gas station.
The cop was at the counter as were three other customers. The second Irma, Lil and the baby stepped inside, all chattered stopped and they stared at them.
Irma had changed her shirt and removed the bloody one, so that couldn’t be the cause. They watched them wander the store, staying quiet and not saying a word.
Irma picked up the items she needed, as did Lil. Things that Garrick probably wouldn’t have. Then again, one never knew with Garrick.
Arms full they approached the counter and the older gentleman behind there, asked, “It true you came out of Atlanta?”
“Yes.” Irma answered.
On that he tossed three bags on the counter. “Pack your things, keep them, I don’t want your money. I don’t wanna touch anything you touched.”
Lil laughed. “We’re not infected.”
“Still.” He nodded/ “You never know.”
That made Lil laugh harder. “Oh, trust me, you know the infected. But, you know, hey, we’ll take the groceries.” She began to bag them.
“Are you sure we can’t pay you?” Irma asked.
“No, just take them and go.”
Irma shrugged. “Ok, that’s very kind.”
Lil kept shaking her head until she gathered all of their things and
she and Irma left the store.
“Maybe they’re confident in their safety.” Irma suggested.
“They shouldn’t be,” Lil said.
“Who knows, maybe it will stay contained and never make it here.”
Just as they got to the SUV, a car pulled up sloppily to the pump. The driver stumbled out of his car, his arm bleeding, face extremely pale.
The thought of the infection being small scale or contained went out the window, because the man was clearly infected and it wouldn’t be long before someone else in that town was as well.
CHAPTER SIX
Atlanta, GA
Jack thought of Lil.
When he took the assignment to travel to Peru he did so to avoid his wife. While he was able to forgive her infidelity of a nearly a year before, he was unable to come to terms with it or forget it enough to move their marriage beyond it.
To Jack, staying busy helped but he didn’t want to get into an assignment that would take his mind off of things.
Special Forces being sent to Peru was the jackpot.
Jack believed that time away from Lil would do one of two things. It would make him realize he was over her or make him want to make it work.
Never did he think it would become emotionally extreme, making him not only want to work it out with Lil, but realize how much in love with her he really was.
Jack loved Lil and each day that went by that he couldn’t see her gnawed at his gut.
When he got injured in Peru and sent back to the states he was grateful.
Truth be known, from what Jack experienced, he was scared. Scared that there was no turning back the ravaging virus. The last thing Jack wanted was for the world to go to hell and he not be with Lil.
He truly believed after being cleared and infection free that he’d go back to base. That didn’t happen; he was immediately put on duty at the CDC.
When things went haywire there and only he and Saul remained, Jack believed that he and Saul would eventually get out and find their wives.
A simple video call from Vermont followed by one from the Pentagon told Jack that not only were he and Saul not going to see their wives, they were going to be separated from them.
The National Guard was due to roll in and a rescue operation to free Saul and Jack from the CDC building would follow.
By nightfall the streets of Atlanta would be under strict martial Law.
Saul would be sent immediately to Vermont and Jack would hit the front lines at the check point for the exodus and placed in charge because he had more firsthand knowledge of what to look for.
The only good thing about getting out of the building was getting a signal on the cell phone.
He did ask the doctor at Vermont to try to call Lil and Irma to let them know what was happening.
The doctor said he would.
Jack hoped that was the case.
He hated the thought of once again, not seeing Lil. Not getting to her. But he knew once she was at Garrick’s she would be safe.
The best that Jack could do to protect her was do his best to stop any infected from leaving Atlanta. But they already left, Jack knew that. How much good would the exodus do?
Saul caught a nap while Jack watched the exterior monitors.
From what he could see if the streets and parking lot, the number of infected grew by the hour. The lobby of the CDC was filled.
Jack informed his superiors what the National Guard had to do to handle the situation. But no matter how much he told them, Jack knew the soldiers would be ill prepared in what they would face. Being ill prepared meant military casualties and sequentially more infected.
The mission was to roll into Atlanta, clear the streets, clear the CDC and retrieve Jack and Saul. Easy enough.
But with each passing moment, Jack doubted the ease in which the soldiers would accomplish that mission.
He hoped he was wrong.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Washington, DC
The President of the United States was alive and well and handling the crisis … not really, but that was what the general population was told. General Lance knew the people were already panicked by this virus, and they didn’t need to know that the president was killed, reanimated and then killed again.
That would tell people two things. One, the virus was frightening and two it escaped the confines of the quarantine.
The news media was all over it and the Vice president issued a statement that the President, was moved a safe location – standard procedure.
The Centers for Disease Control was planning on an official news conference where they would tell the public that the two locations had been quarantined and everything was under control.
But that was far from the truth.
Germany, already on a media blackout, informed the United States that the virus had broken boarders and had moved into Italy and France.
While Washington DC was fine, a few solders returning from Peru remained unaccounted for. Those who were rounded up and showing signs of infection were taken to a hospital in Dallas.
Dallas was ill prepared for when they turned.
Chaos and bloodshed erupted in the hospital and the instant infectious chain event spilled into the streets.
It wouldn’t be long before Dallas, like Atlanta, would see the National Guard rolling in and an exodus planned.
General Lance was a smart enough man to know that the virus was scattered through the country and, like well placed terror cells, remained silent until its deadly onslaught.
Secretary of Health, Don Kraus was scared and he wasn’t afraid to admit it.
Not only had he witnessed what Colonel Manning had become, he saw the split second transformation of the President.
Having worked with Saul Klein at the CDC for several years gave him the expertise in the field of virology and the knowledge to carry the keen foresight that this thing was far from under control.
He agreed with Lance that they could very well be facing a new type of civil war, a battlefront could erupt on American soil, and for that, they needed every man and woman in the military, back home and on the front lines. ... Just in case.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Five miles North of Huntersville, North Carolina
Evening descended and the school bus was dark as it sat on the side of the road, only the right turn signal blinked.
Officer Crawford spotted it on his rounds. He had left the small town of Huntersville in search of that bus. A bus that should have arrived back at the school long before.
Anxious and worried parents ignored the assurance from school authorities that everything was fine. They wanted answers.
It didn’t take long for Officer Crawford to find the bus. In fact, not long after getting on the highway he saw it on the southbound side.
“HP, this is Crawford. I have a visual on the school bus.”
“What’s the location?”
“Maybe two miles from the exit, southbound 77, turning back now.”
That was all he conveyed. He didn’t want to tell anymore until he actually could take a closer look. After doing a U turn on the highway across the median area, with a ‘Blip-Blip’ burst of his siren, lights on, Crawford pulled behind the school bus.
“HP, the bus looks abandoned, stepping out to investigate.” Leaving his car running, Crawford stepped out. He was perhaps ten feet from the bus. The closer he approached, the more he knew something horrible had happened.
Seeing the blood smeared across the back windows, he withdrew both his flashlight and his weapon and raced to the bus. Using his collar radio, he called out, “HP, we have a situation here. Boarding the bus. Get emergency services out here. STAT.”
His heart thumped as he approached the open door. An immediate knot formed in his stomach at the sight of the blood.
What happened? Who could have done something to the children? Or rather what?
His foot slipped in the thickening blood on the metal school bus stairs and
the beam of his flashlight hit the driver seat. It was saturated. It looked like someone had taken a bucket of flesh and blood and tossed it across his seat.
Crawford gagged, stepped into the bus fully and shone his light.
He whimpered out an ‘Oh God,’ just before vomit shot up his esophagus into his mouth. He spit and fought for control.
“HP,” he called out in revulsion. “Oh, God. I need back up. Oh, God.”
“Crawford, what is the situation?”
Crawford didn’t reply. Against what he wanted he took in what was around him.
Blood everywhere, not a spot of the bus was without it. He saw an arm, a tiny arm with painted nails holding a book bag. Another step revealed what appeared to be part of a torso. Guts and intestines decorated the bus like Christmas tinsel.
“Crawford, come in,”
When that call for him arrived, Crawford lowered the volume on the radio because he swore he heard something at the same time.
A growl.
Then it repeated. A snarling growl accompanied a chilling wet sound. It came from the back of the bus.
It was an animal. It had to be an animal.
With the beam of his flashlight leading the way and gun extended, Crawford inched to the back.
As he drew closer, he saw sneakers and then he saw the little legs. Just a portion of a moving child who appeared to be on his knees, maybe hiding from the animal.
His little feet wearing blue high top canvas tennis shoes, extended into the aisle from the last row on the bus.
He wanted to yell out for the kid, tell l him he didn’t have to hide, that he was there to help him, but Crawford didn’t want to alert the animal to the child’s presence.
Quietly, he crept closer.
Just as he hit that last row, he moved the beam of the light and softly called out, ‘Son. It’s okay.”
The little boy was half under the seat. His head moved back and forth.
The sound.
The snarling.
It was close.
Too close.
Zombie Battle (Books 1-3): Trinity Page 13