The Darkest Part of the Night

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The Darkest Part of the Night Page 8

by David Spell


  Today’s attack at Peachtree Meadow High School might just change that. If enough infected were able to get home before the virus affected them, the damage would be spread throughout the surrounding neighborhoods. The United States Government was responding to the virus, but they were being very cautious because they did not want to violate anyone’s rights. Eventually, Amir thought, rights would not matter because the only ones walking around in this infidel nation would be the zombies.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Suburban Terror

  Restaurant, Midtown Atlanta, Friday, 2030 hours

  Rebecca selected a black dress that she hadn’t worn in months. She was surprised at her own emotions. She hadn’t felt this way since the captain of the football team asked her out in high school. Calm down, she told herself. We’re just going out for dinner.

  Chuck arrived at her apartment carrying a half dozen roses. He was wearing a white button down shirt, a dark blazer, and jeans. He was nervous, too, but now that he was in the moment, his anxiety eased. For him, the hardest thing had been getting up the courage to ask Rebecca out. He handed her the flowers and said, “I hope you like roses.”

  She didn’t get surprised by much but the gift of flowers surprised her. “They’re beautiful, Chuck. Thank you so much. Come on in while I put them in a vase.”

  McCain watched her as she took the flowers out of their plastic wrapping, put water in a clear glass vase, cut the stems to fit, and then put the flowers in it. Her blonde hair was down and she looked amazing. She caught him staring at her.

  “What?” she asked.

  “You look really nice,” he said.

  She suddenly felt self-conscious and looked away.

  “Ready to go?” he asked. “And do you like steak?”

  “Yes and yes.” She picked up her purse off the counter and looked at him. “You clean up pretty nice, too.”

  The restaurant that Chuck had selected was known for their steaks. He had eaten there once before and he was glad that he had called ahead to make a reservation. The line was out the door.

  “Now, I know you like wine but do you have a preference?” he asked after they were seated.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Johnson asked, raising an eyebrow.

  “Nothing. Nothing at all. I don’t know that much about wine but I do enjoy it. I’m just not sure that I enjoy it quite as much as you.”

  They both laughed and she punched him on the arm. The week before, he had gone to her apartment to check on her after Marco Connolly had been killed. He had been attacked and killed by three infected people. The virus had then caused Marco to turn into a zombie, as well, and Rebecca had had to make the head shot that put him down. When Chuck had arrived at Rebecca’s apartment later in the evening, he’d found her a little tipsy after having consumed an entire bottle of wine.

  “I’ll have you know, Mr. McCain, I didn’t drink that entire bottle of wine. Wait, let me rephrase that. I didn’t drink the entire bottle that night. I only had half the bottle that night.”

  He held up his hands. “No judgment from me. I was just happy that you had that bottle of Scotch so I had something to sip on, too. So, back to my question. What’s your preference in wine?”

  “How about a nice Cabernet Sauvignon?”

  They settled on a Chilean Cabernet Sauvignon, a crab cake appetizer, and decided to share a salad. Chuck ordered a sixteen-ounce New York strip and Rebecca chose an eight-ounce Filet Mignon. The food was excellent and they talked about a little of everything.

  They steered clear of talking about work, but Rebecca did tell Chuck how the CIA had recruited her while she was a senior studying Political Science at Virginia Tech. She had finally admitted to him the week before that she did, in line with his suspicions, work for the Central Intelligence Agency. She had been the field agent who had first alerted the the US Government to the fact that the Iranians had developed the zombie virus and had been testing it on live victims in Afghanistan.

  When it looked like the bio-terror virus would be unleashed on the United States, the President had signed an Executive Order calling for the CDC to have an enforcement branch. The CIA was forbidden by law from working inside of America. It was very important, however, that they continue to try and stop the spread of the virus.

  The CDC Response Teams were legitimate federal police officers. What none of them knew except Chuck, however, was that they received much of their intelligence and most of their funding from the CIA. The CDC had response teams at all of their locations around the US and they were the tip of the spear in combating the zombie virus.

  After they had finished their steaks, Rebecca and Chuck continued to sip their wine. The conversation became more personal. They were both enjoying their evening together and were in no rush to leave the restaurant.

  “Tell me about your fighting career,” Rebecca said. “Did you not get enough action with the police department that you had to go looking for more excitement?”

  He smiled. “My police career was pretty exciting. I was involved in a lot of interesting cases and incidents over the years. And being on the SWAT Team was my dream job.

  “But, I’ve been a martial artist and a fighter for most of my life. When Mixed Martial Arts came along, it was just a natural progression for me to want to test myself in the ring. I was pretty good, at least at the local level, and I had a little bit of success. I’d probably fight again if the opportunity came up. But, I do have to remind myself that I’m not as young as I used to be.”

  She looked at the scars around both of his eyes. “Did you ever get hurt in the ring, other than the scars on your face?”

  “No, I was fortunate. I was never knocked out. Just the normal cuts and bruises of getting punched, kicked, elbowed, and kneed. I had ten wins and four losses. All four losses were by decision and they were all to heavyweights.”

  “Didn’t you normally fight as a heavyweight?”

  “No, I fought mostly as a light-heavyweight, two hundred and five pounds, but I did have several fights at heavyweight, also” he answered. “I even won a few of my heavyweight fights. But I was undefeated as a light-heavyweight. Believe it or not, I was a small heavyweight and a big light-heavy.”

  “And your ex-wife, what did she think of you fighting?”

  “I didn’t turn pro until after we got divorced. I don’t think she would’ve been a fan, though. She never really liked the violence of the martial arts.”

  “Can I ask what happened with your marriage? Or is that too personal?”

  He looked down and was quiet.

  “It’s none of my business. I’m sorry I brought it up,” she said, putting her hand on his forearm.

  “No, it’s ok. I guess I owe you a secret or two,” he smiled. “I was young, selfish, and immature. I had no idea how to be a good husband. I was so involved with being a cop, lifting weights, shooting, and martial arts training that I just shut her out of my life. There were no other women. I was just a horrible husband. Honestly, I would have divorced me, too. Looking back, I’m surprised that she waited as long as she did.”

  “How long were you guys married?”

  “Seven years. Melanie was three when we split up. That was hard. I’ve tried to be a good dad and her mom is a great mother. My ex got remarried to a nice guy a couple of years after our divorce. He’s been good to them.”

  “That was a long time ago, Chuck. I’m surprised you haven’t found someone else.”

  “Maybe one day she’ll come along,” he said, looking into Rebecca’s eyes. “And I find it even more surprising that you’ve never found the right guy to settle down with.”

  Johnson laughed. “I haven’t exactly had a normal career. Working for who I work for brings its own set of challenges. I don’t think I even know how to have a normal relationship. I’m not sure what one of those looks like.”

  McCain nodded. “I can see that. And what we’re doing now is definitely not normal.”

  Chuck pulled h
is Silverado into Rebecca’s apartment complex and parked in front of her building. The good meal and the bottle of wine combined with the adrenaline dump of the day’s events had them both yawning.

  “Thank you for a very nice evening, Chuck.”

  “And thank you for saying ‘yes,’” he said. “Maybe we could do this again sometime?”

  “I’d like that,” she said quietly. “See you Monday.”

  He let himself out and walked around the truck and opened the door for her.

  “I’ll just walk you to your door,” he said.

  When they reached her apartment, Chuck said, “Thanks again, Rebecca. It was really nice spending time with you.”

  She unlocked her door and turned around and looked at the big man standing in front of her. The realization hit her full in the face. He loves me, she thought. She saw it in his eyes. He really loves me. She froze because she had no idea what to do with that revelation.

  Rebecca put her hand on Chuck’s arm and reached up and kissed him on the cheek. He smiled at her and started to turn away. She then pulled him towards her and kissed him on the mouth. His surprise didn’t last long as he wrapped his arms around her in a strong hug.

  They broke the kiss and she gently pulled away. “Good night, handsome. See you Monday,” she said and stepped into her apartment.

  McCain did not realize that he was smiling broadly as he walked back to his truck.

  CDC HQ, Monday, 1030 hours

  Chuck and Eddie sat in Rebecca’s office. She had had a busy weekend working at home and had several things to go over with her team leaders. She also still felt the emotion from Friday night. It wasn’t far below the surface and it had been a long time since she had felt this way.

  The rest of the men were at one of the local police department’s driving courses, practicing evasive and pursuit driving. Scotty and Andy had taken out a team of terrorists on the interstate in the preliminary attacks. Smith had been driving and had used a modified Precision Immobilization Technique to disable the terrorists’ van. They were all getting a PIT refresher today. Eddie and Chuck would join them later.

  “I just got off of the phone with the lead FBI Agent from the incident at the high school,” she said. “They’re still working on cleaning that scene up. Their casualty count at this point is four hundred and sixty one students, fifty three teachers and faculty, and twenty-seven parents for a total of five hundred and forty one dead at the school.

  “The casualty count for police officers is twenty one. Sixteen were killed in the initial incident. Five more died over the weekend who had gotten bit. Three of the five turned and had to be shot at the hospital.

  “We still don’t have an accurate count of how many infected might have gotten away and gone home. There have been several incidents in that area. The agent told me the locals had officers on the scene at three different neighborhoods where infected people had been reported. He said one officer responded to a sighting of an infected person in a subdivision and got bit before he was able to shoot the zombie. He said this one charged the police officer at a full sprint.

  “Now these numbers of casualties are really high and this is an incredible tragedy but we also have to remember that this is a school with almost four thousand students so it could have been much worse. Of course, the concern now is whether or not this kind of attack could be repeated at another school. For the moment, until we determine how the virus got into the high school, all of the Metro-Atlanta schools are suspending classes.”

  “That makes sense,” observed McCain, “but it could also play right into the terrorists’ hands. Now we’ll have thousands of unsupervised children and teenagers at home during the day while mom and dad are at work.”

  Both Eddie and Rebecca nodded in agreement. “Well, there’s nothing we can do about it. No school wants to be the next Peachtree Meadow,” she said.

  “Next thing,” Rebecca continued. “Eddie, you remember Chris Rogers?”

  “Oh yeah,” he said. “How could I forget him? That kid has a set of…I mean he’s something. He really helped us out at that mall.”

  Chris Rogers was a Fulton County Police Officer. He had been off-duty and shopping in the Arbor Place Mall when the first terror attacks took place a week and a half before. Five Islamic terrorists had rushed into Arbor Place, armed with AK-47 rifles. They had also just injected themselves with a syringe of the zombie virus. The terrorists shot and killed a number of people before the virus took effect on them. Then, they continued their attacks, infecting others through biting them.

  Rogers had heard the gunfire, drawn his Glock 23 pistol, and pulled out his badge. He heard shots from several different locations in the mall. Even though he was off-duty and wasn’t wearing any body armor, he instinctively moved towards the sound of the gunfire.

  He saw a bearded gunman running towards him. The terrorist saw Chris and raised his rifle. Rogers fired three quick shots of .40 caliber hollow points that caught him in the chest and stopped him. Chris continued to move forward, but minutes later, he saw Eddie and Jimmy shoot two more of the terrorists near his location.

  Chris identified himself to them as a police officer and pointed out the terrorist that he had just killed. At that moment, the man turned over and tried to get up, now as a zombie. Jimmy quickly shot him in the head with his M4 and it was then that Rogers understood how serious and how deadly the zombie virus really was.

  The young officer agreed to help Eddie and Jimmy locate and neutralize the other two terrorists inside the mall. They were attacked by two more groups of infected before they could get out of the mall. This was definitely not the outing that Rogers had pictured when he had gone shopping for running shoes that afternoon.

  After Rebecca had arrived at the scene, Chris had gone back inside with her team, to help locate and rescue survivors and to clear the mall of zombies. He had left a good impression with Eddie, Jimmy, and Rebecca. She gave him her card and told him that if he was ever looking for a job to give her a call.

  “He called me over the weekend and asked what he needed to do to come work with us,” she said.

  “That’s great,” said Eddie. “So, what’s next?’

  “How about if he starts Wednesday?”

  Eddie and Chuck both looked surprised.

  “Does that mean he’ll start his training Wednesday? That’s pretty quick. Did he give a two week notice with the police department?” asked Chuck. “Also, I don’t know the kid. I was killing zombies at Six Flags while you guys were killing them at that mall. If you both say he’s good, that’s enough for me. But what do we really know about him?”

  Rebecca nodded. “Good questions. First, we need him now. Eddie’s team has been running short-handed so I want to get him working as quickly as we can. I’ve it set up so that he’ll be sworn in Wednesday as a federal police officer with the CDC. He’ll then spend seven days with Roy working on his shooting skills. The other stuff, you guys can teach him as we go. He’s already a police officer so we’re going to bring him on and train him on the job. I’ll get some of the curriculum that they taught you guys in your two-month training and let him go over it on his own.

  “Your second question, Chuck. I called Fulton County PD and talked to them about him. From the Chief of Police on down, they told me what a great young officer he was. They were all sad to see him go. I was able to use the Department of Homeland Security card and get a waiver on him having to work out his two-week notice.

  “And for your third question: ‘What do we really know about him?’ He only has five years on the job. The last two, though, he’s been on their Criminal Response Team. Their Chief told me that CRT is the next level below SWAT. They’re a tactical unit that focuses on armed robberies, gangs, and street level drug enforcement.

  “Chris is on the list to go to SWAT when the next opening comes up. They’ve already sent him to the basic SWAT school. He doesn’t have any military but he’s been to SWAT training and is currently in a tact
ical unit. Plus, Eddie, Jimmy, and I saw him work and he impressed us.

  “So, having said all that, Chris will join us here next Wednesday after his time with Roy. It’ll be up to you guys to train him and help him to integrate with the teams. I think that he’ll fit right in.”

  “Me, too,” said Eddie. “Jimmy and I both liked what we saw. There aren’t many people, even police officers, that will take on a terrorist with an AK while only holding a pistol.”

  “And speaking of new people,” Rebecca continued, “I’m leaving as soon as we finish this meeting and will be gone until Wednesday or Thursday. I’m going to be traveling and meeting with the potential candidates that we talked about last week. I want to hire two more full teams so that Jimmy and Andy can both have their own. These teams will go through the full two-month training and I want to see that starting within the next month.

  “Chuck, you’ll be the Officer in Charge while I’m gone. Eddie, we’ll rotate that around. Next time I travel, you’ll be the OIC.” The two men nodded.

  As they got up to leave, Rebecca motioned for Chuck to stay. “I need to give you a contact list for while I’m gone.”

  She got up and closed the door and sat in the chair next to Chuck. They looked at each other. She still saw it in his eyes but knew that he would never say it. At least, not yet. Did he even know what he was feeling? He was, however, the consummate professional.

  “You good with being in charge?” she asked.

 

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