by Ricky Sides
Robert loved Ox and Sheba so much that he spent a great deal of his spare time working and playing with both dogs. In time, Sheba delivered a litter of seven puppies. The pups gave Robert a purpose and he spent all his spare time being their protector. When he saw a hawk circling the refuge, he went to stand guard over the litter until the bird of prey flew away. After he told Herb about what had happened, they placed nylon netting over the area where the pups were housed to protect them from avian threats.
In gratitude to the young man, Herb offered him his pick of the litter. He expected him to pick the largest of the puppies, but Robert chose the runt because the pup looked as lost and alone as he had been when the team found him.
As for Dana, no one in the refuge gave another thought for the woman they had exiled. After all, she couldn’t survive alone with the zombies…or could she?
The End
Read on for a free sample of Insurgent Z: A Zombie Novel
Notes:
Roy Akins – Patient Zero
Decatur Bridge causeway
Corporal Herb Bennett – National Guard member and leader of the group.
Randy Lions – National Guard and group member.
Private Yancey Sutton – National Guard member assigned to the sniper detail at the overpass on Highway 72 in Athens.
Elliot Banes – Group member with RV
Angela Hutton – female reporter.
Sergeant Webber. Tennessee National Guardsman who supported Herb at the confrontation with the civilians on the bridge.
Landon Jones – troublemaker from the bridge. Contracted to remove the bodies of zombies from Highway 31.
Hubert Ryan, a retired Air Force General turned advisor to the president. He resigned on the spot when the President refused to hit the contaminated zones in Alabama and Tennessee with nuclear missiles. He predicted 99% loss of the population and had plans to take his family to the mountains to try to survive.
Mary Joe Withers and Jeremy Steven Alders. Great Grandmother and her Great Grandson from the encounter near the overpass on Highway 72, overlooking Highway 31.
Doctor Erma Langley – scientist from CDC who went to the National Guard Armory in Athens. Description: Erma was a thirty-one year old who had worked for the CDC for four years. At five foot three inches, she was a tiny lady with a petite frame. She wore her auburn hair cut short.
Oliver – Erma’s assistant from the CDC.
Agent Brian Marx – Homeland Security agent who informed the Athens National Guardsmen about the plan to nuke Decatur, Nashville, and rural areas in Kentucky and Virginia.
John Croft – Private at Athens armory who informed Agent Marx that disarming American citizens was unconstitutional.
Dagmar State Wildlife Management Area in Arkansas – Herb’s cabin is adjacent to it.
University of Arkansas at Little Rock at the Center for Integrative Nanotechnology Sciences. Doctor Erma Langley conducted experiments using nanotechnology to eradicate the parasites.
Henry and Martha Echols – Arkansas elderly couple rescued by Herb and Randy.
David Raines – Scientist from the CDC.
Sam Evans – Scientist from the CDC.
Gilbert (Gil) Mavens – Scientist from the CDC.
Captain Edgar Billings – Marine Captain in command of 120 men sent from Missouri to escort the CDC scientists and their trailer to an undisclosed laboratory.
Second Lieutenant Casey Zimmerman – Attached to the Marine unit.
Hayti Missouri – Town of 3,000 where Shaunna became a zombie and spread the parasites.
Amy Jernigan – Lone survivor of her family of 8.
Arkansas Refuge for Humanity – Agent Marx declared Herb’s property and that area around it to be a refuge.
Jason Romine – Former Army sergeant. Served in Iraq.
Trevor Williamson – Gate guard at the refuge with anizombie complex.
Bill Wiley – computer programmer.
Dana Rainey – Bill’s former lover who abandoned him on the road.
Edward Rowe – security team member. Ed is the team medic.
Doctor Ezra Fielding – 47 years old.
Nancy Fielding – Nurse.
Ellen and Tommy Gunn – picked up in Hunter, Arkansas after Tommy was bitten by a zombie. (Couple in mid twenties.) Three year old daughter named Ruth. Ellen was an Elementary school teacher.
Mrs. Clemmons – former High school teacher at the refuge.
June Simmons – old woman from Hunter.
Raman Chandler – leader of the Hunter community group.
Bernie – One of Raman’s two men.
Steve Childers – Wife named Joanne, son named Sam.
Robert Waller – 13 year old boy the team picked up in Hunter.
Hernando Garcia – 27 year old leader of the Newport survivors. Truck driver.
Jesse Colton – Newport survivor. Married to Ursula, one of the six women.
The refuge
Two weeks later, a very large, heavily armed, army convoy arrived at Herb’s place. They brought with them dozens of FEMA trailers that they set up on land adjoining Herb’s property. They fenced in the makeshift trailer park and installed guard towers around the perimeter.
On Herb’s land, the army constructed an armory to store the weapons, ammunition, and accessories that they were giving the refuge. They also constructed a solar powered clinic, where the new arrivals could be immunized and given a medical examination. Then they put together a large prefabricated store of sorts, which they stocked with canned foods. Those canned goods included items such as flour, powdered eggs, powdered milk, and freeze-dried goods, such as meats, fruits, and vegetables.
The bulk of the food the army delivered was housed in twenty, forty foot long, steel shipping containers, which were buried to protect the contents from temperature extremes. They were accessible via a ground level entrance, leading to a steep staircase, which entered one end of each unit. Once the containers had been buried, teams of soldiers relayed the food from tractor-trailers into the mini warehouses.
Eventually, the refuge would have to become self sufficient, but the materials and supplies that had been delivered would make it possible for them to begin gathering survivors.
The army brought dozens of civilians with them. They had already been immunized, and would help run the store and serve as guards. Several were prior military, and would go with Herb and Randy as they sought out other survivors. One man was a doctor, and he was going to operate the clinic. He also took charge of safeguarding a large vault that contained thousands of doses of the immunization injections.
The army worked at the site for four weeks, and then they left to resupply for a similar mission in Kansas. Two other convoys were doing similar work elsewhere. As the government was collapsing, the military was doing what it could to see to it that as many Americans as possible had what they needed to survive. Time would tell if that would be enough, and time was running out.
Erma’s prediction regarding the collapse of the military was off, but not drastically so. They managed to hold themselves together long enough to establish half a dozen refuges in as many states. The other forty-two refuges that the government had wanted to establish weren’t outfitted before the military collapsed, which occurred three months after Erma’s arrival at the cabin. The people in those other states had received their startup packages with the airdrops, just as Herb’s people had, but they never received the comprehensive help that the ground convoys had delivered.
Six months after the meteorite crashed into the Tennessee River and released the Akins parasites in America, most governments of the world, including the United States, had collapsed. The military infrastructure had similarly fallen apart.
There were numerous disappointing setbacks and tragic losses, but the Arkansas group did make progress in their goal of gathering more people. Well, that is another story, best left for another day.
The bus.
“It looks like a minibus to me,
” Herb said. “But just look at the modifications someone made to it.”
The bus had steel mesh covering the side and back windows. The front end had a modified cowcatcher that would knock zombies out of the way and prevent them from falling under the bus, which could cause an accident or get the vehicle stuck. There was a gunner’s chair that could be utilized to clear hostiles. It was operated by manipulating a hydraulic pump, and could be elevated to a retractable glass port in the roof. This would give the gunner, who sat behind the driver, the opportunity to provide covering fire for people getting in or out of the bus. It would also make it safer to navigate the streets and highways when the zombies were present.
While examining the bus, the men found a manifest taped to the dashboard that catalogued the shipments that had been delivered to them. There were twenty M4s and a matching number of M9s. There was also a very large supply of magazines and ammunition for the weapons, as well as military holsters for the M9s.
1
Betrayal of a Brother
Eight years ago...
“I don’t like it. Something doesn’t feel right.” The whisper came from one of the three figures, each shrouded head to toe in black burqas.
“Doesn’t feel right? They give you a thong to wear, too, Webb, when they handed you the burqa?” Sanderson chuckled at his own joke.
“What’s the concern?” Mason casually asked. “We passed through the market unnoticed, and the key opened the door to the room directly across from our target. The mission is right on schedule. Soon as the marks enter the apartment across the street, we blow ’em to hell, and then get out of here.”
Mason pulled the field glasses from his eyes and looked away from the window. Three stories down, an alley separated the two apartment complexes. There was nothing much to see other than overflowing dumpsters and trash scattered about. If the INTEL report was accurate, and he prayed it was, one of the top masterminds responsible for the IEDs that took numerous American lives would soon be dead and gone. Mason had already lost a few close friends to cowardly roadside attacks. He’d be damned if he lost another comrade.
“Okay, guys, hand them over.” Mason reached his hand out and snapped his fingers. Webb lifted his burqa and removed one-half of an assembly that had been taped around his leg. It was one piece to a puzzle that would launch a rocket-propelled grenade. Sanderson followed suit and peeled off the other half.
“That thing started to rub me raw ten minutes after we hit the street. I’m glad to be rid of it,” Sanderson said.
“At least you didn’t have a damn grenade inches away from your nuts.” Mason removed the tape from the RPG snuggled against his thigh.
His fingers slightly tingled when they met the steel casing, in awe of the power harbored within. The single-stage thermobaric projectile was designed specifically for antipersonnel and urban warfare. The contents of the warhead would scatter on impact in aerosol form and then ignite. A high-pressure blast wave equal to 2kg of TNT would obliterate any object inside the apartment. At least if the thing had pre-detonated, Mason wouldn’t have lived to regret accepting the mission.
Using a hex key, Sanderson assembled the stock and trigger components. The finished product was a steel tube with a flared end wrapped in wood around the middle. The wood protected the user from heat, and the flared end would aid in blast shielding and recoil reduction. He checked the paint marks he inscribed earlier on the optical sights to ensure it was still aligned.
Webb stared at the weapon. The grenade was more than half the length of the launcher.
“The projectile is initially launched by a gunpowder booster charge and is powered thereafter by a rocket motor,” Mason said, explaining what they all already knew. He talked too much when he was nervous, and though he did his best to remain cool and calm, at the moment he was tipping his hand. Mason continued to hold it with both hands and waited for Sanderson to finish.
The apartment was a small studio. The room provided enough space for the full-sized mattress laying on the bare floor, and a sitting area that would look spacious if the only furniture were a couch and chair. A cheap row of cabinets hung above the sink in what was barely a kitchen. Mason thought the average Iraqi family would consider a place like this a mansion. Collateral damage from the initial bombings on Bagdad, and refugee migration, had residential living quarters going for a premium.
“I still don’t like it,” Webb said.
Sanderson huffed out bad air and shook his head. “Webb, did anyone ever tell you those blue eyes of your sparkle like diamonds in the deep ocean?”
“What?”
“I bet you got a pretty mouth hidden under that burqa.”
“Sanderson, shut the fuck up!”
“No, you shut the fuck up. You need to focus on something else other than being scared of your shadow. Get your mind on the mission. We come. We kill. We leave. If you lose focus, you’re going to get yourself killed. Or worse, you might get me killed. I don’t know about you, but I don’t plan on dying out here.”
“Take a breather, both of you,” Mason said.
Webb turned and offered the flared end of the launcher; Mason inserted the grenade securely into place.
“We could be here for the next ten minutes or ten hours. Since the bathroom is down the hall, I’m going to open the latrine right here. I’ve got to piss so bad I can taste it.” Mason turned and walked over to a wall that had a short stack of newspapers scattered about. He glanced down, wondering if there might be something worth reading, then realized his Arabic was more than just a little rusty. He rolled the burqa high enough to find the zipper on his pants and fished for his manhood. Just as it hung out in open air, and he began to relieve himself, Webb whispered with surprise.
“Hey, a light just came on in the room.”
“Fucking great. I can’t stop pissing now. Do you see anyone?”
“No one yet, just—”
The door to the apartment burst open with a thunderous crash. Mason spun his head around and saw a boot level with the door lock hanging in the air. A small round object then bounced across the floor, metal clanking against stone.
“Jesus Christ! Get down!” he cried, but there was nowhere to seek cover.
He saw a bright flash. A shockwave grabbed his consciousness and shoved it into a deep abyss. The world went dark.
* * *
A tornado of thoughts weaved in a hodgepodge of unrelated images. A light in Mason’s mind glowed, and an assaultive, aromatic air entered his nostrils screaming for him to awake.
His vision, blurred from the hold of unconsciousness, cleared as he blinked and struggled to assess the situation. A few feet away stood an unwashed man, unmistakably dressed in enemy garb. He held a crushed ampoule in his hand.
Mason found himself breathing rapidly through his nose. A piece of cloth had been stuffed into his mouth and his lips sealed with tape. The taste of mold and sour cheese from the rag trickled down his throat. Don’t throw up—don’t throw up, he commanded his body, following with a short prayer. A dull pain throbbed within his head.
“Good. The last one is awake now.”
Mason turned his head toward the voice and saw Webb and Sanderson bound in chairs. Like him, both were gagged. The muscles in his arms sprung to action, only to be thwarted by the abrasive cords that burned into his wrists, as he fought the restraints. His legs were similarly held captive. His bare feet scratched into the filth on the sandy, stone floor.
The man who spoke wore a long sleeved dishdashah and stood a few feet from Webb. Mason noticed the sharp Persian features of the man wearing traditional Iraqi attire. To his left, three desert rats wearing tattered Iraqi Regular Army combat uniforms, waited at the ready with Kalashnikovs hanging from neck straps. “The eyes betray you, Americans. You struggle against your bonds as if you think that if you were free, you could somehow escape. But your eyes show the fear of what you know is to come,” the Persian said.
Mason racked his brain to remember i
f he’d seen this man’s face in the INTEL reports. It was distinctive enough with a scar tracing its way from his right eye down to the corner of his mouth. The man had long, straight black hair, and was clean-shaven. Mason couldn’t remember any photos of a rebel leader without facial hair of some sort. That profile would have stood out.
Webb turned his head toward Sanderson, then craned his head over to meet Mason’s gaze. Sweat trickled down Webb’s cheek, and his face flushed red with white blotches.
“You see? Even this one can sense what is about to happen.” Scarface looked over to the soldier on his immediate left. His eyes narrowed, and he quickly nodded.
The soldier stepped forward and jerked the tape from Webb’s mouth. Webb’s skin clung tightly, refusing to let go. Beard stubble and a piece of skin from his lower lip remained on the adhesive side. Once the rag was out of his mouth, Webb attempted to dry spit the taste away.
“You bastards need to go ahead and kill me now. I ain’t telling you shit,” Webb rasped.
Scarface raised his eyebrows and pursed his lips, curious. He turned to one of the soldiers behind him and gave a quick nod.
The soldier took a step back, raised his rifle, and pulled the trigger with no hesitation.
The shot cracked loudly in the small room. Webb’s skull peeled open from the front, blowing the right half of the scalp off, and leaving the other half attached and hanging to the side. Brain matter splattered on the back wall.
Sanderson and Mason both jumped in their seats and redoubled their efforts to pull loose from the bonds.