Then just as another ‘Son,” slipped from his mouth, Crawford saw. There was another child under the back seat, that child was probably hiding. And then high top tennis shoe boy, pulled from under the seat, lifted his head and snapped a glare at Crawford with a snarl.
Flesh dangled from his baby teeth and Crawford saw the gaping, open stomach wound of the little boy that was hiding.
High top tennis shoe boy snarled once more then returned to his task of the child under the seat.
Covering his mouth with the back of his hand, Crawford spun to get the hell out of there.
Bud the bus driver stood at the front of the bus, arms outward. His mouth was bloody, face half missing as if eaten, and what remained of his face was pasty white. Crawford froze in fear.
Bud growled.
Thinking the only way around Bud was to shoot him, Crawford raised his weapon.
He never got to fire.
At least not at Bud.
They came for him from all angles. Agile and fast, two lunged from his left side another from the right. A small girl latched on to his legs and another boy, no older than six, raced down the aisle at an incredible speed and leapt at Crawford, latching onto him as if he was Velcro. Rapidly he climbed up Crawford body and went for the face.
All of the children moved fast, gnawed fast and were going through Crawford’s body like piranha.
Crawford screamed in pain, just once and not for long,
They took him down fast and Bud joined in.
CHAPTER NINE
North Carolina
“Unfortunately, he is decomposing and the order has come in to do final testing and relieve . . . to put it kindly . . . all those infected, reanimated or not.”
CDC head epidemiologist, Doctor Powers spoke these words to Captain Steven Long, not a day earlier.
Yet, even though Steve was a virologist himself, he asked for clarification.
“What about the boy? Are you going to kill the boy?”
Powers and Saul both looked at Steve as if he were insane. Kill the boy? The boy was already, technically dead.
But to Steve he was different. Even they knew he was different.
Juan came from Peru, the village where the meteor landed. Steve was on hand as a soldier and also to assist the World Health Organization. He had seen many infected, but none like Juan.
A six year old boy who flew to the hills when his own father took ill. It was unfortunate for Juan that he flew in the direction of the meteor which spewed the deadly virus into the atmosphere.
Juan was found in his dark home playing with a toy truck.
He, of course, had died of the virus, reanimated and simply went home. He wasn’t violent he didn’t attack. In fact, the only thing he hungrily devoured were animals. He never attacked a human.
Steve grew attached to the boy. Juan even showed emotions, lots of them too when he sobbed all the way to America after being locked in a cage.
When the order came to exterminate Juan, Steve tried. He really did. But the second Juan cried, knowing something was up and laid his head against Steve. Steve knew he couldn’t do it.
Juan would eventually succumb. His body would have to.
But it wouldn’t come at the end of a gun. Not when Steve could still see some remnants of life within his young eyes.
Doing the only thing he could do in the midst of the confusion of the CDC outbreak, Steve left with Juan.
His plan was to go north, his parents had property in the hills, and there Steve would hide out with the child until his body gave away and he truly did pass on.
The family property had a cabin and Steve’s eccentric brother had a place up there as well. All within those hills. He tried to call his brother, but got no answer.
He and Juan arrived on the family property just after dark. If he remembered correctly the back winding roads would eventually lead them to the cabin. From there, he’d just wait it out. It was isolated, secluded and far away from civilization.
No one would know and they would be safe.
CHAPTER TEN
USS Hartford
Mediterranean Sea
Captain Marlene Carmichael was miffed.
A career Navy woman, she flew into Italy and awaited her mission. She enjoyed the celebration dinner the night before, where the admiral congratulated her on being one of the very few women to command a US nuclear missile submarine on a three month sea control mission.
Marlene was proud of her accomplishments. She worked damned hard to get there.
So when the call came in that the mission was aborted and she was to head directly home and position the sub a hundred miles off the coast of Roanoke, she wasn’t a happy camper.
“Ma’am,” Executive Officer Harold said as he handed her a small slip of paper. “Confirmed by the pentagon.”
“Damn it,” she said under her breath. “Are we given any reason why?”
“No, Ma’am. Not yet. Our communications officer said that information will be forth coming and restricted.”
“I see. Then chart our course.”
“Aye-aye, Captain.”
Marlene turned in the slightly cramped control room when she heard her name called again.
Doctor Roger Chase stood, clipboard in hand, “Captain.”
“Everything alright?” she asked.
“Not sure.” He handed her the clipboard. “Seaman Lawrence doesn’t seem to be making any progress, in fact, incredible as it may be, he’s worsening.”
“Worsening?”
“Fever is raging. Despite everything I have tried, it seems the infection is out of my control.”
“Should we surface and airlift him, Doctor?”
“Let me see if this next course of antibiotics works,” he said. “If not, that may be an option.”
“Odd. Not that I know what I’m looking at, but does it seem sudden to you?
“Yes, considering he was injured in the bar fight just last night. Never seen anything move this quickly.”
“Is he contagious?”
As if she were asking a ridiculous question, Chase shook his head. “No, no, this is from the wound. There’s a lot of bacteria in saliva.”
She extended the clipboard. “Keep me posted.”
“Yes, Ma’am.” He retrieved the board.
“Doctor Chase?” she called him, causing him to stop. “It says bite wound. What type of animal?”
“Not animal. Human. It was a human bite.”
“Human?”
“You’ll have that when you mix alcohol and testosterone.” He gave a fast flash of a smile, turned and walked out.
“I’ll have that?” she repeated as she turned to her executive officer.
He chuckled. “You’ll have that.”
They continued on, without a second thought. It was just a bite. Really, what was there to be concerned about?
CHAPTER ELEVEN
North Carolina
“Crawford, come in, Crawford do you read, over,” the dispatcher at the Huntersville station kept repeating the call. He had heard nothing since Crawford called for emergency services and back up.
A second squad car, coming from a neighboring community was sent, because Sheriff Wilkes had all available officers down at the school trying to keep the parents calm and all in one place.
He also wanted to keep the away from the highway and the school bus. What happened out there was a mystery and it didn’t sound good.
“HP, this is 122, I see your squad car.” the backup officer responded.
“Let us know the situation,” the dispatcher said.
Sheriff Wilkes was on hand to hear the report.
The backup squad car reported it was a blood bath and not a single body was there. Limbs along with other body parts, yes, but no distinguishable bodies.
Two EMT vehicles were on scene searching through the carnage.
Carnage.
They were children. All younger than eight.
Wilkes immedi
ately placed a call to the county corner and to State officials. It was obviously bigger than his small town could handle.
But he had to deal with another end of the spectrum…. the parents.
How was he to tell the parents of 24 grade-schoolers not only that their children were missing, but that perhaps violently murdered? He didn’t have any easy answers.
He left the school bus situation to the others and he headed down to the elementary school.
No sooner had he arrived he was encircled and bombarded with questions by parents in the parking lot.
“What’s going on, Sherriff?”
“I heard they spotted the bus.”
“It’s almost nine. Where are my kids?”
Sherriff Wilkes held up his hand to stop the tangled crowd of worried parents and to bring silence.
“I wish. I wish I had more answers.” He said to the parents. He looked to the other officers on scene at in the parking lot. The look on their faces said they too were as surprised as the parents to the lack of news.
“I’m sorry,” the Sherriff continued. “We’re waiting on word. The bus was spotted on the side of the highway …”
“Did they crash?” one questioned.
“Are they hurt?” another asked,
“Look!” a parent called out. “There!”
Look? There? Curious as to not only the call out of those two words but the unison, loud sounds of relief from the parents as they suddenly moved from him. Wilkes turned his head to the right.
“The kids,” the one officer said with a smile. “They’re all right.”
Something wasn’t right and Wilkes knew it, he looked and saw what the parents did. A wall of children walked down the dark street at the end of the parking lot. They appeared more as shadows being lit by only one street light behind them.
Wilkes blinked, took a step and stopped. “Something’s wrong.” He mumbled.
“Sherriff?” The officer asked.
The parents didn’t have to move too close to their children. In their racing enthusiasm to greet their kids, as if someone shouted, ‘go’ the kids charged for their parents.
They moved fast, too fast and the orchestration of groans and snarls rang out.
Wilkes saw his initial worried assessment was correct when the children came into light and they weren’t all right.
Instead of cheers and glees at the reunion of parents and children, there were screams. Blood curdling screams. Wilkes was at a loss at what to do as he watched the children pounce viciously on their unsuspecting parents.
Wilkes could shoot. But shoot who? The kids? He couldn’t bring himself to do that, he just couldn’t. And while the other officers ran to assist the parents, Wilkes backed off, got in his car and took off.
<><><><>
Garrick had a cigarette chomped between his teeth, a glass of whiskey in his hand as he sat on the really comfortable couch in the recreation room of his survival fortress.
He leaned forward exhaling the smoke, sipping the whiskey and listening intently to the police scanner.
Former military, that was how he met Jack, Garrick had transformed into an eccentric survivalist. Always on guard to be the next homeland soldier, ready to protect his country in the event of all out apocalypse. He had it all and his family’s money helped him get it. His fortress was stocked to care for many people for a long time and prepare for the future. He was ready for many apocalypse scenarios. Including the one he faced.
He listened as if he were back in time enjoying a radio program.
Static-beep, “There’s fifteen, twenty. Good God they’re fast.”
Gunshots.
Static-Beep, “I can’t shoot. They’re kids. Little kids.”
“Dude,” Garrick spoke to the radio as if the officer reporting could hear him. “Run.”
Static-beep, “….officers need assistance. They’re . . . .”
Scream.
Gunshots.
“Fuck.” Garrick sat back. “Little dead fuckers have to be fast.”
He was so engrossed and taken with the scanner events, that when Lil’s voice came over the intercom with a simple, “Garrick,” he screamed and jumped, grabbing his chest.
“Fuck.” He stood.
“Let us in,” Lil said in a factual manner.
Garrick question out loud, “Us?” and pressed the button to open the first gate. He’d leave the fortress, go outside and manually open the wall for her. He was curious about the ‘us’.
Did she bring Jack? He doubted that. Jack was an on duty soldier during a crisis; no way would Jack leave post.
Then Garrick downed his drink, lifted his weapon and walked to the door. He chuckled, thinking about his last words to Lil before she left.
“I’ll be back,” she said. “Do you need me to bring you anything?”
Garrick had joked, “A woman.”
After all he was still young and a partner in the apocalypse wouldn’t be too bad. Perhaps Lil brought a friend, he thought. Then quickly erased that one because he knew since her affair she gave up all her friends.
He stepped outside and opened the wall. The low level motion lights came on as the SUV pulled in and Garrick secured the gate.
The vehicle stopped and Lil got out first. The he saw the woman who emerged from the passenger side holding a sleeping toddler. She was older than he expected, and while her round and tall frame wasn’t his usual fare, her bigger brown hair was right up his alley. But who was Garrick to complain, it was the end of the world.
Who wants to be alone?
Those ‘end of the world’ hook up thoughts were fleeting when he got a good look at Lil and the woman she brought.
Both looked as if they had been through hell.
From what Garrick had heard on the scanner and seeing the two women, he was left to wonder how bad things had turned since he took refuge in his hideaway just a few days earlier.
<><><><>
Jack would swear he had never felt as helpless in all of his life as he did watching the National Guard arrive at the CDC complex and engage in a brutal battle. He was locked in tight below with Saul and wanted to go topside several times. When the outbreak of the undead hit the center, Jack, Saul, Dr. Powers and a few others were below
Saul urged him to remain below. He needed Jack there and encouraged him to have more confidence in the ability of his fellow soldiers. Saul and Jack were the only ones who remained.
.
.
Then after Jack cleaned house and Saul’s daughter attacked during her unexpected visit, Dr. Powers and the others left.
How far they made it out of the city, if they even did, was still unknown.
But below, watching the monitors, Jack felt helpless.
“They move much faster than the movies,” Saul commented.
Jack flinched as he watched a soldier shoot an undead in the chest. “Aim for the head. Aim for the head, fuck. You would think they never saw a zombie movie.”
“I didn’t,” Saul said. “Never.”
“Never?”
“Never.”
“How is that possible?”
Saul shrugged. “Wasn’t interested. But, medical common sense would have told me that the reanimation started in the brain so disabling the brain would be the means to ending the reanimation.”
“How are they so agile? They’re dead.”
“They aren’t all agile.” Saul pointed to the screen. “I think age, how fast they reanimated, all plays a factor.”
“Medical knowledge?” Jack asked.
“No a guess,” Saul replied. “But it’s medically based. They don’t bleed like in the movies, so the blood is coagulating. And I would venture to guess the eating is instinctive. They have to get full almost immediately. There is no digestive process.”
“Hence why they vomit it not long after?” Jack quizzed.
“Unless of course, like this one …” Saul pointed to the screen and to an undead without any insides. �
��It would just go straight through.”
Jack cringed.
“Ah, someone got smart. Look.”
Jack had been rubbing is eyes. He raised them to the monitor. The undead were going down. Finally they were firing accurately.
There were hundreds of the undead and more meandered outside.
As if they knew it was fruitless to head into the CDC, the undead wandered off.
The soldiers topside didn’t worry about the wandering undead outside. When it was all clear and safe indoors, Jack and Saul allowed the soldiers to enter the sub level lab area.
Saul had his data all packed and was ready to go; he would be moved almost immediately to Vermont.
Jack informed acting First Sergeant in charge of the unit that the injured men were to be quarantined. That was during the quick debriefing, before Jack departed to the front lines to manage the exodus and before Saul was escorted to the airport. But somehow, Jack didn’t feel his warnings would be heeded. That wasn’t Jack’s immediate concern.
Jack had to find out if their wives made it to Garrick’s.
Unfortunately both women’s phones were going directly to voicemail. Jack kept trying but knew time was running short and he looked as if he wanted to bang his head against the wall.
“What now?” Saul asked. “Tell me what your guts says. Did they make it?”
“I firmly believe …” Jack paused, ran his hand down his face and shook his head. “Fuck.”
“What?”
“I forgot. It’s Garrick.”
“Well since I don’t know him, tell me your revelation.”
Jack rummaged through his phone. “Garrick has a satellite phone. He’s buried so deep in the woods he felt he had to get one.”
“Those are expensive.”
“He has money,” Jack said. “Inherited it. Here.” He smiled. “I do have it.”
“Will he answer?”
“He better.” Jack pressed a button. “Yeah, he will.”
<><><><>
It had been a long time since Irma had eaten someone else’s home cooking besides her own. She was amazed at the place Garrick had constructed. A two floor structure, one floor completely underground with an escape tunnel. The top floor was concrete bunker style, yet there was nothing drab, dirty or militant about it.
Zombie Battle (Books 1-3): Trinity Page 14