Scouts of the Apocalypse: Zombie Plague
Scouts of the Apocalypse: Zombie Plague
About an hour passed and the wind began to settle. The dust thinned to the point where Mike could se
Midpoint
Scouts of the Apocalypse - final version - May 9, 2015
Chapter 1
The world had gone mad.
Mike stared out through the spiderweb of cracks in the windshield of his truck wondering when the nightmare had begun. Below the hill where he was parked, houses and cars burned, a ball of dark smoke rising into the air.
Figures wandered in apparent confusion, occasionally stopping to lean over a still bundle on the ground as if to comfort an injured friend.
Mike wished he could believe it was comfort that was being offered. In the past few hours he had come to understand just how wrong that impression was. The windshield and gore-encrusted truck gave mute testimony to that. Bits of hair and meat were embedded in the grill and Mike thought there might be a finger stuck in the bumper.
He wiped a tear away. Was there any point in going on? The odds against survival seemed so high. Maybe giving in to the chaos was the only sane thing left to do.
"Scouter Mike?" a young voice from the back seat called.
That would be Ricky again. Mike ignored him and continued to look out at the devastation, despair growing in his mind with each passing moment.
"Dad? Are you okay?" the boy beside him asked, shaking his arm.
Mike focused on him. "Hmm? Oh, Kyle? Sorry!" He shook his head, finally seeing his son.
The boy, a young man really, with just the beginnings of a moustache, looked afraid, but determined. Mike looked at the three other boys, all the same age as his son, in the rear-view mirror of the truck. They too looked both afraid and determined.
That determination pushed his feelings of doubt and self-pity aside. "Sorry, guys. For a moment there, I wasn't sure what to do next."
Kyle kept hold of his father's arm. "We need you, Dad. Stay with us. You taught us about survival and survival shelters all weekend. We'll just have to use what we learned a little sooner than we expected."
“Yeah, Scouter Mike. It’s not like it is the end of the world,” Ricky added. He was trying to be funny, but his comment sounded just a little bit desperate.
Kyle laughed and the other boys joined him. The laughter was forced, but it was there.
Out of the chaos, that little bit of order brought Mike fully back from the edge. Of course, Kyle was right. They were Scouts and it was their oath to help make their community and world at large a better place. This really was no different. Just a lot bigger problem than any of them had ever imagined.
“Okay, boys. The first thing we need to do is get back to the others and figure out just what we can do.”
***
The survival camp had started out innocently enough. The five Scoutmasters had driven out of the city in a convoy, each with a few of the boys in their respective vehicles. It wasn't quite regulation, but the parents had all agreed that it was the best way to handle the three-hour drive away from civilization.
They had left the city early and arrived at the campsite well before lunch, driving off the logging road, back into the trees, and out of view. The area was perfect for the exercise: a government free-land-use zone that anyone could use. It was heavily treed with plenty of water and space.
"Okay, boys," Scouter Steve said when everyone was together and stretching out the kinks and stiffness from the long drive. "Some of you have done this before, and for others of you, this is your first time." He stopped speaking long enough to ensure he had everyone's attention.
"The purpose of this camp is to learn how to deal with a disaster. The scenario is this: we have been in a plane crash on the way to a jamboree. We have to set ourselves up to survive until help comes."
“In the cold?” one rather pale boy asked. He stood near the front of the group in sneakers, blue jeans, and a thin hoodie. He was rubbing his arms with his hands and jumping from foot to foot.
“Carl, what did we talk about last meeting?” Scouter Steve asked.
Carl shrugged. “I don’t know. I wasn’t there.”
Scouter Steve shook his head. “Come on, man. You’re a second year. It was the same thing we talk about before every camping trip. You don’t wear blue jeans because they won’t keep you warm. You wear the right footwear for the outdoors and you make sure you have the right jacket. You know this.”
“Well, I packed those things,” Carl said.
“They won’t do you any good in your luggage,” Scouter Steve said. “While we’re talking, you get changed.” When he hesitated, Scouter Steve made a shooing motion. “Quickly! We’re all waiting.”
Carl ran to the red van he had arrived in and started digging for his bags.
Scouter Mike stepped forward, facing the boys. "What kinds of things do you think we need to survive?"
A tall, thin, freckled boy with a shock of brown hair peeking out from under a fluorescent orange toque was the first to speak. "Shelter? Food?"
"Shelter definitely. We have no idea what the weather will be like and we need some protection from the elements. Food is important too. Anybody else?”
A small blond boy piped up then. "Weapons?"
"Why would you say weapons?" Scouter Mike asked.
"Protection from animal attacks," he promptly replied. "You know, bears, cougars, wolves...."
"I don’t think weapons are as necessary as some of the other things. We’re a big enough group that animals will probably avoid us."
"But they might attack us. You don't know that they won't."
"No, Trevor, you're right. I don't know that we wouldn't be attacked. I suppose a weapon could be useful in that particular case. However, in this situation, we won’t be handing out weapons.” Scouter Mike looked around at the group. "Anything else we might need to survive?"
A number of answers flew out of the group of boys then.
"Warm clothes!”
“Fire.”
A bathroom!”
“An SOS signal!"
"Now you're getting the idea," Scouter Mike said. "But there's one very important thing you need that you haven't mentioned. Any ideas?”
A troop of blank faces gave no answer.
“Clean water to drink.”
A flash of understanding passed through the boys and they all looked at each other, nodding their heads.
Scouter Mike grinned then. "As it turns out, we were on our way to a jamboree so our plane happened to have all the supplies we will need to survive. Cooking gear, sleeping bags, tools to build shelters and, of course, clean drinking water.”
Several of the leaders laughed and even a few of the boys smiled.
Scouter Mike nodded to Scouter Steve. “They’re all yours.”
Scouter Steve smiled. “Okay, gentlemen. What I need you all to do is build your shelters, set up your cooking area, and get your camp in order. When you are done with that, come see me for some additional survival training. Patrol leaders, please get your patrols together and make it happen. Everything you need is in the back of the trucks."
The three patrol leaders, all third-year Scouts, broke away from each other in a well-practiced movement, calling out to their patrols.
“Eagle Patrol, assemble on me,” Scout Todd called, jogging over to stand next to the dusty, red van driven by Scouter Connall. He waved his arms as he called. Four boys responded, picking their way through the uneven snow to reach him.
“Wolverine Patrol. Come on over here,” Scout Kyle called. He stood next to the blue Ford SuperCrew driven by his father, Scouter
Mike. Four boys quickly surrounded him.
“Cougar Patrol. Let’s go!” Scout Martin said quietly. He had no need to shout because his patrol had already surrounded him. The Cougar patrol quickly marched out into the trees near the vehicles to Scout out a location for their shelter.
The five leaders gathered together to observe the work, fielding occasional questions from the Scouts. The men watched as the group systematically pulled the camp together, building shelters, setting up latrine facilities, and organizing the camp kitchen.
When the camp was complete, Steve called the Scouts together. “Nice work on the camp prep, gentlemen. We’ve still got some time before lunch, so let’s break off into groups to learn some additional skills.”
Scouter Mike stepped forward. “We’ve got lots we can learn. Each of the leaders will teach something different. We can start now and finish after lunch. Does that make sense?” Some of the boys nodded. “Great! Patrol leaders, we need five groups. Could you set them up, please?”
The patrol leaders huddled for a moment and lined the rest of them up. Todd assigned a number from one to five to each boy. As the numbers were assigned, Kyle and Martin directed the Scouts to the various leaders.
As the groups formed, they broke off with the leaders. Scouter Jeremy led his group off to learn bush work. Connall’s group learned first aid and Shaun taught his group knots and lashings. Steve reviewed map and orientation skills with his boys while Mike worked with his team on axe, knife, and fire making.
***
“Well, boys, how do you feel about the survival shelters you all built today?” Scouter Steve asked. “Do you think you’ll be warm sleeping in them tonight?”
A pudgy, dark-haired boy was the first to speak. “Are we really going to sleep in those shelters, Scouter Steve? I mean, they’re just lean-tos with spruce boughs piled over them.”
Scouter Steve smiled, ignoring the eye rolls from several of the Scouts around the fire. “Carl, where else did you think we might sleep tonight? We don’t have tents set up and you can’t sleep in any of the vehicles. The closest house is kilometres away and besides, your sleeping bag and ground pads are already in your troop’s shelter.”
“But won’t it be cold?”
Another Scouter, Jeremy, spoke up. “You will be sharing the shelter with the rest of your troop. You will be plenty warm.”
“But…”
“Give it a rest, Carl,” one of the other boys said. “I know this is your first survival shelter camp, but it isn’t mine. I’m expecting my best sleep of the year out here. No street noise and nice fresh air.”
That seemed to quiet him.
“Just remember what we talked about. Change into dry clothing before bed. You go to bed in wet clothes and you will be cold,” Scouter Steve said.
One of the boys put up his hand.
“Yes, Peter? You have a question?” Scouter Steve asked.
Peter stood and looked thoughtful. “More of a comment than a question.”
“Is it relevant to sleeping in survival shelters?”
“Well, not really. I’m just wondering what we are doing for our next meeting,” Peter said.
Scouter Mike looked at him. “Peter, that isn’t for another week. What say we worry about that then, okay?”
Peter got a pained expression on his face. “Okay.”
“Thanks, Peter,” Scouter Mike said.
“So guys, why don’t we sing some campfire songs,” Scouter Steve said. “Anybody have any suggestions?”
A blond boy wearing a lime-green houque straightened. “How about we sing ‘On Top of Spaghetti’?”
“Good idea, Everett,” Scouter Steve said. “You want to get us started?”
Everett grinned and began to sing. “On top of spaghetti, all covered with cheese, I lost my poor meatball when somebody sneezed.”
By the word, ‘spaghetti’, most of the Scouts were singing. By the end of the second verse all the adults were singing too. All except Scouter Mike and his son, Kyle. The two had wandered away from the light of the fire to stargaze.
The Scouts were on their third song when Scouter Mike and Scout Kyle returned on the run.
“Scouts! Come with me quickly. You will never believe the meteor shower!” Scouter Mike called.
The Scouts looked at him bewildered until Scout Kyle spoke up. “Come on guys. It’s amazing. Shooting stars are coming down in curtains!”
That was enough to convince the troop. They all got up and followed Kyle away from the fire and through the trees to a large meadow. The troop let out a collective gasp of amazement. Above them, it looked like the heavens were raining streaks of light.
“What do you think it is?” one of the smaller first-year Scouts.
Scouter Shaun answered. “This time of year it’s probably the Orionids meteor shower. Do you all know why we have meteor showers?”
Any nodding or shaking of heads was lost in the darkness, so he continued to speak. “Normally, meteor showers occur when the Earth passes through debris left behind by comets as it orbits the sun.”
“Will any hit the ground and kill us?” a young, worried voice called out.
“No, Nathan. Most of the debris is just dust and ice. It is going so fast that when it hits the atmosphere, it heats up from friction. It will burn up before it hits the ground. Anything that doesn’t burn up will be too small to notice” Scouter Shaun had just finished speaking when a particularly bright meteor streaked across the sky toward the ground. It was markedly different from the other streaks not only in brightness, but because it was travelling in the opposite direction.
“That’s odd,” Scouter Shaun said under his breath.
Scouter Jeremy spoke quietly in his ear. “What’s wrong?”
“That last meteor shouldn’t have been able to do that. It’s travelling the wrong way across the sky,” Scouter Shaun whispered.
“Don’t say anything. It will just worry the boys,” Scouter Jeremy said quietly. He raised his voice. “Okay, fellas, let’s get back to the fire for mug-up. We have to be up early tomorrow to do Scouts’ Own and head back to the city.
Flashlights clicked on and the Scouts all made their way back up to the fire, leaving Scouter Shaun to stand, watching the sky.
Chapter 2
The morning dawned crisp and cold. The campfire was already burning, re-ignited from coals by Scouter Steve and Scouter Mike. The first of the Scouts wandered over after using the latrine to huddle around the fire with hands in sleeves, trying to stay warm.
One of the first to come out was Carl.
“Hey, Carl,” Scouter Steve said cheerfully. “How did you sleep?”
Carl plopped himself down by the fire and held his hands over the flames to warm them. “I froze,” he muttered.
“Did you change into dry clothes before bed like we told you?” Scouter Mike asked.
“No.”
Scouter Steve poured a cup of steaming hot chocolate. “Here, Carl. Have some of this. It will help you to warm up.”
Carl took the hot chocolate and held it between his hands while he sat and shivered. Scouter Steve watched him for a few moments before he turned to Kyle and Martin.
“Okay, gentlemen. Why don’t you get things going for breakfast? Wake up the others if you have to.” The two patrol leaders moved to organize the few Scouts who were up and awake.
Scouter Mike smiled. “Well, now that they’ve got that going, I’ll grab a few of the first-years and we will plan the Scouts’ Own.”
“Sounds good,” Steve said. “I’ll stay here and keep an eye on Carl.”
“There’s always one who doesn’t listen, isn’t there?” Mike asked.
Steve grimaced. “Yup. Always one Scout who thinks he is smarter than the rest. And we all end up suffering for it.”
“Well, good luck with him. We’ll be back in time for breakfast,” Mike said with a wave. He intercepted three of the first-year Scouts who were just coming back from the latrine and talked t
o them for several minutes before he got Scouter Jeremy to take the group off into the woods.
Scouter Steve grabbed an armful of wood and built the fire up while the camp woke and breakfast was made. Carl didn’t move a muscle the entire time, huddled and shivering beside the fire.
By the time Scouter Mike, the three first-year Scouts and Scouter Jeremy returned, water was boiling and breakfast was well under way.
“How did the planning go, Mike?” Scouter Steve asked.
Mike shook his head. “We found this really beautiful spot, and we were getting everything lined up for Scouts’ Own when we heard something banging around in the woods. I thought it was a deer or maybe a moose rummaging, but it was making way too much noise, and, it was coming toward us, not trying to avoid us, despite all the noise we were making.”
“What were you thinking? A bear, maybe?” Steve asked.
“That was my thought, although it is pretty late in the year for bears to still be up and about. They’re usually hibernating by this time.”
“You’re right about that,” Steve said. “Still, what else could it be?”
“Could have been a hunter, I suppose,” Mike replied. “Bear or hunter, I didn’t really want the boys near it. I think we should just do a Scouts’ Own up here at the camp where we have better control of our surroundings.”
“Sounds good,” Steve replied. “While you have been getting everything ready for Scouts’ Own, Kyle and Martin have been doing a great job organizing everything.”
“What about Todd? Has he been getting his patrol going?” Mike asked.
“He only just got up out of bed,” Steve said, pointing to a boy who wore dark sunglasses and wandered around half asleep. “Good thing his assistant patrol leader got things going. I think the only thing that actually got Todd up was his patrol pulling their shelter down around him.”
“That would do it,” Mike said with a grin. “Does that mean the shelters are taken down too?”
“Pretty much everything is either taken down or packed,” Steve answered. “All that’s left to do is have breakfast, clean up, and have Scouts’ Own. Then we can do the three-hour drive back to the city.”
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