Z-Day Chronicles (Book 2): Rising Up
Page 1
Table of Contents
Chapter 1 6
Chapter 2 18
Chapter 3 28
Chapter 4 40
Chapter 5 51
Chapter 6 66
Chapter 7 77
Chapter 8 89
Chapter 9 101
Chapter 10 112
Chapter 11 124
Chapter 12 135
Chapter 13 145
Chapter 14 156
Chapter 15 166
Chapter 16 177
Chapter 17 186
Chapter 18 199
Chapter 19 210
Chapter 20 219
Chapter 21 231
Chapter 22 241
Chapter 23 253
Chapter 24 263
Chapter 25 271
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
The contents in this story contains a grizzly scenario and may be disturbing and inappropriate to readers under the age of 18. Extreme discretion is advised.
Entry log: Jaycob Riley
Day 365:
It’s been exactly one year since the beginning of the zombie apocalypse. A lot has happened. This infection has spread all over the world; not just one specific place. First India. Then the Middle East and then Europe. Soon hit the states, and everywhere else thereof.
There are so many bodies; bodies of men, women, and children. Every single one of them have been infected by this outbreak. The Z-Corps wasn’t able to stop it. Fort Worth, Texas, was our last hope, and it crumbled to the ground. The only remaining members of the Z-Corps were Brandon Peterson, Tyrese Jones, Trystan Xavier, and myself. The other two survivors with us were civilians.
We told ourselves that this would not be the end. As small as we were, we pushed on. We rescued other survivors. When we didn’t have enough room to fit them in our vehicle, we found buses and repaired and refueled them. When we needed help, we appointed some of the civilians. When we didn’t have enough weapons, we found caches and armories. Never thought that we would come across a couple of working helicopters, but when we did, we appointed those that knew how to fly them.
We rebuilt the Z-Corps. I’m thankful for those civilians that were eager to help out and put their life on the line as well. They didn’t have to, but they chose to do so in hopes of rebuilding humanity. I’m also glad that we have help from Lieutenant Kyle Williams and his squad on HR-Team Alpha. Also glad we have a council that is doing their part as well.
We have so many people now. Enough for a small town. The only thing we gotta do now is find a place to actually stay; somewhere that the infection hasn’t come across. To be honest, I’m not even sure if there is such a place anymore, but we gotta keep trying. We’re gonna push on until we find a place to start over.
There is so much pain buried inside. I’m starting to lose it. I go out on runs with HR-Team Alpha and a Scavenger party to clear my head. But I don’t know. Dylan... my best friend... I let him go. I sent that man to his death. I left him to those monsters.
My other half... my queen... my wife... Cassandra... gone; not ever coming back. The memories... seeing her that way and ending her with my own hands. I couldn’t save her in time; I wasn’t fast enough. I don’t know if she... even knew I was alive.
Those nightmares keep coming to me, eating me alive from the inside out. The only reason why I don’t bite a bullet now is because of my promise I made her. I told her I would find a place, and I’m gonna do just that. Maybe I’ll end it when I get there.
Chapter 1
“RUN!!”
Six people were running down the stairs of an apartment complex while evading a hoard of zombies chasing them. The man leading the way was tall and thin, with a gruff black beard, and looked to be in his mid-30s. He was wearing a brown baseball cap and was carrying a 12-gauge pump action shotgun. Trailing him was a woman about his age who was holding a toddler in her arms. Behind those two was a young girl who looked to be 16, and Joseph Boyer, a 17-year-old boy with a lean build.
A husky man following Joseph began to lose his breath and slow down. He ended up tripping over his two feet and toppled down the flight of stairs, landing on the platform of the second floor. As he tried to pick himself up, a zombie stumbled over him and sank its teeth into the man’s shoulder. As he screamed in agony, more zombies piled up on top of him and dug into his entrails. They began ripping his stomach apart, splashing around the fresh squirting blood.
“We gotta keep moving!” the leader shouted. “We gotta make it to the stadium! They said they’d meet us there!”
The remaining four made it outside of the apartment complex in one piece. As Joseph closed the door behind them, ten zombies inside of the building charged to the entrance and attempted to barge through. The leading man assisted Joseph in holding the door shut so that the hungry carnivores would stay trapped inside. Joseph struggled to keep the door closed when out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a small metal chair sitting upright next to a large, green dumpster bin.
“Can you hold on for a few seconds?” Joseph asked the leader. “I have an idea.”
“Make it fast!” the man grunts. “I can’t hold this door shut for too long!”
Joseph rushed to get the chair when a zombie shot up from the bin in front of him. As the zombie swung for Joseph, he quickly slid underneath the outstretched arm, grabbing the chair as his foot collided with the bin. When the zombie attempted to climb out, Joseph spun over the chair, vaulting away from the impending attack, and smacking the zombie with the base of the chair, knocking it back into the dumpster.
Joseph headed back to the door of the apartment complex, where the leader was struggling to keep the door shut. As he continued to fight, his arms grew weaker as rotten fingers began writhing around the door.
“Throw me your shotgun!” Joseph shouted as he set the chair down.
The man threw the 12 gauge in Joseph’s direction. Joseph swung the barrel of the shotgun towards the dangling arms.
Pow!
Joseph shot the arms off of the zombies breaking through the man’s strength. He then dropped the shotgun and picked up the chair. He then charged, slamming his shoulder against the door, fully shutting the zombies inside of the complex. He then grabbed the chair and pinned it underneath the doorknob, trapping the zombies that lurked inside.
“I don’t know how long that chair is gonna hold,” Joseph said. “We gotta get away from here in case it gives way.”
The four survivors, save for the baby in the older woman’s arms, drifted through the alleyway behind the building, so that they would not be discovered by zombies that roamed the streets of Tallahassee. As they heard moaning and groaning surrounding them, they began to move quicker. The noise was nearly deafening, and it sent chills down their spine. Each cool, crisp breeze in the air felt like a zombie kissing their hair with its breath. They had to go faster; they had to get to safety.
The survivors passed through the alleyway and spotted the Doak Campbell Stadium. They were almost home free; the only thing standing in the way was a 15 foot chain linked fence that blocked the alleyway exit with no door to pass through.
“We may need to go around,” The lead man suggested. “We can’t climb up with the kid, and I don’t see any other way.”
As the survivors turned around to find another route, they saw ten figures running for them. The figures were the zombies from the apartment complex; They had broken through the chair that was pinned to the building’s door.
As the lead
man pointed his shotgun at the oncoming hoard, Joseph glanced at the large fence, and began to look for some way to pass this hindrance. He saw two hinges at the top of the fence, conjoining it to the buildings.
Joseph took a few steps back, then darted, running up the fence and quickly climbing. His hands latched on to the top of the fence and he positioned himself to the left hinge on the fence. He swiftly unhinged the left hinge on the fence.
Once Joseph unhinged the fence, it began to sway forward, causing him to lose his balance. As he fell across the top, his side caught the wire, scratching him across his ribs.
“Can you guys get through?!” Joseph asked.
“No,” The woman answered. “The opening is too small!”
Joseph briefly held pressure on the deep wound, then swung back to the middle of the fence, and then to the right hinge.
As the zombies inched closer to where the survivors were, Joseph hastily unhinged the second hinge of the 15 foot fence. As he did so, the fence began to hobble and tip over towards the street. Joseph had confronted the point where the little seconds he had left to act would mean the difference between life and death. One wrong move, and he would either break his neck and be killed instantly, or break his legs and be overtaken by the oncoming hoard.
As time began to slow down, Joseph pushed himself away from the fence. He used the gravity to swivel around to where he would land feet first on the concrete pavement. As the fence crashed into the sidewalk, Joseph followed, safely rolling away, only scraping his palms and knees in the process.
“Alright, let’s go!” Joseph shouted.
Zombies that prowled the streets heard the commotion and saw the survivors running towards the stadium. The survivors were now faced with fleeing from a neighborhood of charging corpses. They hurriedly made their way to the entrance of the the stadium and locked the door, buying them just a little bit of extra time to run to the Bobby Bowden field.
As the survivors arrived to the football field in the center of the stadium, the lead man pulled out a small flare gun and pointed to the sky.
Pow!
A bright orange ball flew up to the large blue abyss above them. Then the three scurried to the 50-yard line in the middle of the field. Some vacant zombies scattered across the stadium heard the flare and rushed to the survivors.
Pow! Chk-chk!
A zombie fell to the grass.
Pow! Chk-chk!
Another one fell to the ground. It’s blood blended with the garnet paint at the goal line.
Click!
There was no more ammo in the shotgun, and the survivors did not have any spare guns or ammunition. The entrance to the stadium was torn through, and swarm after swarm of the undead circled the field. The survivors backed close to each other as their impending doom inched closer. There was no way to fight off the horde, and their chance of escape had drifted away from them. All hope was lost, and all they could do was patiently stand and wait for their lives to be taken from them.
“Look!” The young girl shouted, pointing up at the sky.
As everyone looked up, they heard a loud sound of rotors whirring on a helicopter. As the noise grew louder, they saw men in the chopper. Two of them were manning separate chain guns, one on each side of the chopper, and were waving their hands, motioning the survivors to hit the floor.
“Get down!” The lead man shouted.
Rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!
The two soldiers opened fire on the surrounding hoard, shooting out a beam of light from their weapons. A flurry of bullets punctured layers of zombies, nearly pulverizing them. The only thing anyone could see was a mixture of red mist, smoke, and concrete powder coming from the stands.
As the gunners continued to unleash hell in the Bobby Bowden field, six soldiers, quickly repelled to the bottom, surrounding the survivors and holding their position. The leading soldier motioned pilot to lower the chopper. The gunners held their fire and the chopper began to lower. As they did so, more undead began to surround them. The soldiers readied their AR-15s and provided covering fire for the chopper and the survivors.
Papapap! Pap! Pap! Pap!
The soldiers shot at the oncoming swarm. Each shot was a clean round to the head of every zombie. The soldiers were patient and steady, conserving their ammunition just long enough for the landing skids to touch the soft, green grass.
“Get on!” the leading soldier ordered the survivors. “It’s now or never!”
The soldiers gave the survivors covering fire as they stepped in the chopper and strapped themselves in. The soldiers followed, still firing as they vaulted on the chopper. As the zombies inched closer, the pilot lifted the chopper off the football field. One zombie leaped for the dangling feet of one of the soldiers, but its fingertips slightly missed the heel of the man’s boot. The bird soon elevated and flew away from the Doak Campbell Stadium.
The leader of the soldiers stooped down beside the survivors. He was wearing black tactical gear and a black bandanna. His face was clean shaven, and he was wearing dog tags with two gold band wedding rings slipped through the chain.
“Are you alright?” he asked.
“We’re fine,” The man leading the survivors replied. “Thanks to you guys. Truth be told, we were thinking that you weren’t gonna show up for a moment.”
“Well, a lot can happen in a few seconds.”
The soldier reached out to shake the survivor’s hand.
“The name’s Jaycob Riley. You can call me ‘Jake.’”
“Eddy Boyer,” the survivor responded. “The woman and baby is my wife Heather and Nathan, my daughter Shine, and my oldest Joseph.”
Jake turned to Joseph, who was caressing his side. Jake lifted Joseph’s crimson splotched shirt to reveal the large wound on his side.
“We’ll get that fixed at the settlement,” Jake reassured as he patched up Joseph’s injury.
When he was finished patching up Joseph, Jake glanced at Heather, who began weeping as she screened over the horizon.
“Is something wrong, miss?” Jake asked.
“Not really,” Heather answered. “It’s just that..... this used to be our home.”
Jake then glanced over the horizon covering Tallahassee. The sun was setting over the capital building, and the rooftops of the underlying building had graffiti marks signaling rescue. Along the streets of that former college town, zombies staggered all around, scattered around like ants on a large hill. Tallahassee, once a thriving city, now a dead land, was not the only place that was struck by the apocalypse that had begun a year prior.
Chapter 2
After minutes of flying, the survivors in the chopper gazed upon what appeared to be a settlement. Below them, they saw hundreds of small tents and a couple of buses. Surrounding the settlement was a border consisting of soldiers and military vehicles.
“Temp-Set, this is HR-Team Alpha,” The pilot started through his radio headpiece. “We are in possession of four survivors. Requesting permission to land and refuel.”
“HR-Team Alpha, this is Temp-Set,” The woman in the other end responds. “You are cleared for landing and refueling. Welcome back.”
“Roger that. Be advised, one of the survivors is injured and will need 24-hour surveillance.”
“Copy. Medical teams on standby.”
As the chopper touched the ground, three soldiers rushed to its location. They were carrying blankets, a bag of medical equipment, and some bottled water. Joseph Boyer stepped out of the chopper, and one of the soldiers escorted him to one of the large tents not far from the chopper. Inside the tent looked like what appeared to be an infirmary. There were beds aligned in two columns and IV lines beside each bed. There were nurses sterilizing needles and tending to some patients that were lying in their beds.
Joseph was asked to lay in a bed that was near the front exit and then change into the hospital gown that was handed to him. When he complied, one of the nurses dabbed some iodine on Joseph’s right arm, where an IV needle would then
be inserted into his vein. After he was given the IV, the nurses removed the gauze on his side to reveal the large scar.
“How did you get this scar?” One of the nurses asked.
“Scratched myself on a fence while climbing to unhinge it,” Joseph answered. “Had to before zombies could get us.”
“Well that was really smart of you, and really brave; but now we have to keep you under watch overnight. Standard procedure.”
“I understand.”
The nurses rubbed some alcohol on the large scratch and then applied a small coat of honey to the wound. Then they covered it with some fresh gauze and wrapped Joseph’s abdomen, keeping the gauze snug. Joseph was then given some food and water, and was asked to get some rest.
Jake took the remaining survivors to the main camp. The main camp was in the center of the military outpost. There were four buses aligned next to each other on one side of the camp, varying from school buses to Greyhound and Charter buses. The number of tents where other survivors would sleep numbered to the hundreds. Left of the camp was a couple of storage trailers that carried an endless supply of canned food and bottled water.
“Alright, make yourselves at home,” Jake told the couple. “It’s not much, but we do have extra tents, enough rations for everyone here, and he have soldiers patrolling the camp 24/7. You’ll be safe here.”
“What about my son,” Eddy asked. “He’s in the tent with all them nurses. What are they going to do?”
“Your son is gonna be okay. He’s in good hands. We’re just keeping under watch overnight.”
“But he wasn’t attacked by a zombie,” Shine implied.
“Maybe not,” Jake responded. “But whatever he scratched his side on could have been tainted. Wouldn’t count on it though. Like I said: he’s in good hands. He’ll be alright. You’re more than welcome to visit him anytime you want while he’s in the infirmary.”