by David Spell
The dispatcher called Adams to see if he was ok. Officers were required to check in with dispatch every couple of minutes. Four officers and a sergeant were now on the way to the scene. This mall was notorious for being a dead zone for their police radios so no one was really worried. They just figured that Adams couldn’t get a signal to transmit inside the food court.
The sergeant and another patrol officer arrived at the same time. They parked behind Adams’ police car and rushed through the same entrance that he had entered. They were also stunned by the carnage that lay in front of them. The sergeant hit the transmit button on his radio and requested more help.
“Radio, we have multiple casualties. There’s blood everywhere. We need…” His transmission was cut off as he was grabbed by Officer Adams. His head was hanging at an odd angle and he was covered in blood. He pulled his sergeant to the floor and started biting him. The supervisor took bites to his arms and face as he tried to push the crazed officer off of him.
A gunshot shattered the silence. The other patrolman shot the infected officer in the head. Blood and brain matter splattered all over the sergeant. At this point, though, it didn’t matter. He was infected, too.
“Sarge, are you ok? We need to get out of here. I think this is the zombie virus.” He grunted as a large man hit him from behind. He tried to swing his pistol around to get a shot but the man had him in a bear hug and bit down on the side of his neck, ripping his jugular. He felt his blood pumping out of his body as he fell to the floor.
In the space of five minutes, three police officers had been lost. Corporal Matt Parker was eating at the Bulldog Cafe when the call had come in. He rushed over to the mall with his lights and siren activated but with game day traffic, it took almost fifteen minutes. He’d heard his sergeant’s last transmission over the radio and he heard the dispatcher calling him repeatedly since then.
With the sergeant out of the picture, at least for the moment, Matt was in charge. He directed responding units to enter the mall from the upper level on the opposite side. Without knowing what was going on, the corporal thought that maybe the other three officers had been ambushed when they entered the mall. Another possibility was that they were caught in the middle of the fight that had been reported in the food court.
Either way, he thought it more prudent to enter on the upper level and approach more stealthily than just running blindly right into the middle of who knows what. More officers were responding to the mall after the last message from the sergeant. Matt radioed one of them who had just arrived and told him to try and get information from some citizens who had been inside.
Two minutes later, Parker arrived and parked behind three other police cars. The officers were talking to citizens. They all walked over to the corporal and told him what their witnesses had said.
“The lady I was talking to said she walked by the food court and heard what sounded like a loud argument from that little cafe. Then this older lady came out chasing a man, maybe her husband, and trying to bite him. She also heard this crazy growling sound from several people. She just thought maybe there were some drunk people celebrating early but then there was screaming and more people came running out of that cafe. She got the heck out of there and went to her car to call 911.”
Another officer said, “I spoke to the young girl working at the sandwich shop, next to the cafe. She said she heard all that and then saw that first lady bite the man she was chasing on the arms. After a few minutes, he fell down and she jumped on him, biting his neck. She saw a couple of other crazies come out of the coffee shop growling and biting people. One of them bit one of the security guards.
“She saw Adams come in and get attacked by two of them, the security guard and that little woman who seems to have started everything in the cafe. When Adams went down, my witness took off running. She said two of the crazies chased her but she got up the stairs and out of the mall without any problem. According to her, Barry went down with those two people biting him. She never saw him get back up.”
The last officer nodded. “Ditto to all of that. My guy was on the upper level and couldn’t see everything but he heard what the other witnesses have said. He didn’t see Adams get attacked but he saw the sergeant and Cooper come in. The witness said Adams tackled Sarge and Cooper shot him in the head and then he got taken down, too. That was all my man could take and he took off for the exit.”
Corporal Parker processed everything. This sounded much more serious than just a fight between drunk fans. He needed to call the lieutenant.
“We need to get to those officers. If you’ve got a rifle or shotgun, grab it. I’m going to call the brass and let them know what’s going on.”
Lieutenant Anderson was getting dressed in his Bulldog best to attend the home opener. When his cell phone rang, he noticed that Matt Parker was calling. He answered on the first ring.
“Hey, Corporal Parker, how’re you doing this fine Saturday?”
“Sorry to bother you, LT, but we’ve got a situation.”
Athens, Georgia, Saturday, 1300 hours
After lunch, the two couples walked around downtown Athens, letting their food settle and enjoying the sights. After walking for several blocks, Melanie took Chuck by the arm and said, “You look like you could use a cup of coffee.”
“I can always use a cup of coffee.”
Melanie led them inside a coffee shop on the main street. Chuck and Rebecca were both startled by the name of the business. Zombie Coffee and Doughnuts was one of the most popular cafes in Athens. Mel and Brian both laughed at the surprise on their faces.
“Sorry, Daddy, but I couldn’t resist bringing you here. And their coffee and doughnuts are really good.”
Rebecca and Chuck looked at each other, laughed, and stepped through the door of the cafe.
Melanie was right. The coffee was good and the doughnuts were excellent. After getting refills on their coffee, Mel led them out of the cafe and in the direction of the stadium. She clearly had something in mind.
“Let’s head over to the stadium,” she said. “I think Rebecca would like to see it.”
Chuck hated crowds and knew that the area around Sanford Stadium would be packed. Melanie knew her dad and saw the look on his face.
“Better yet,” she said, “let’s go to the game.”
McCain hated crowds but he loved college football so that got his attention.
“Because we don’t have tickets?” he said.
In an instant, Melanie was holding four tickets.
“Yes, we do. Brian and I were able to get our tickets as students and then swap them with some other guys for four seats together. Surprise!”
“That sounds like fun,” said Rebecca.
“What a great surprise,” Chuck said, grabbing Melanie and kissing her. “Thanks for doing that, sweetheart.”
University of Georgia Campus, Athens, Georgia, Saturday, 1330 hours
As he had driven back towards Athens, al-Razi had seen multiple police cars and ambulances driving towards the mall with their lights and sirens activated. The more police and EMS personnel that went to Georgia Square would be that many that would not interfere with him and Terrell at the university. Amir had two vials of the virus left and he knew where he was going to use them.
Traffic became much heavier as he drove the six miles to the campus. The game would be starting soon and fans were pouring into the city. It took almost forty minutes to get back to the area of the football stadium. Now, his problem was finding a place to park.
There was a parking deck five blocks from the stadium but as drove up to it, he saw the big sign in front of the entrance that indicated it was already full. The streets were packed with people walking towards Sanford Stadium. They were all clad in the bright red and white of UGA and many of them had the image of the bulldog displayed on their clothing.
Amir’s second choice for parking was a Christian Church three blocks further away. He was able to get one of the last parking spa
ces for thirty dollars. The irony made him smile. He was launching another attack in the jihad against America and was using a church to park his vehicle in. Hopefully, today, many Christians would die and suffer the judgment of Allah for their unbelief.
He carried a small duffel bag with him from the car. It contained some clothes, money, ammo, water, food, his cell phone, and a few other things. If he was compromised and couldn’t get back to his car, he had some necessities to keep him going.
Amir walked quickly towards the area of the stadium. After his two days of reconnaissance, he had settled on the Tate Student Center as his primary target. Athens was a target-rich environment but this was, perhaps, the most ideal location for his attack, other than Sanford Stadium itself. While there were not many restaurants around the stadium, there was a food court with several fast food businesses inside the student center. What was even better was that it was directly across the street from the stadium.
The terrorist entered the large building and saw that it was packed with hundreds, perhaps thousands, of loud football fans. The lines spilled out from each restaurant. The wait was long in the Starbucks as well, but he had a plan. He reached into his duffel bag and pulled out an empty, paper Starbucks cup.
It was time. He felt the butterflies in his stomach again. What if someone saw him as he initiated the infection? He felt comfort in the weight of the Beretta tucked into his belt at the small of his back under his Bulldog t-shirt.
He walked to the counter where the cream and sugar were kept and acted like he was preparing his coffee. He picked up the silver pitcher for cream. It felt empty. He unscrewed the top and confirmed it. Al-Razi walked to the main counter carrying the pitcher. One of the baristas saw him and walked over.
“Out of cream, sir? No problem, I’ll take care of that for you.”
“Thanks,” Amir nodded.
A moment later, the young man handed him a full pitcher. As he walked back to the condiment counter, Amir pulled a glass vile out of his pocket and opened it. He glanced around as he unscrewed the top on the pitcher. He acted like he was looking inside the container. In the crowded environment, he just dropped the open vial of the virus inside and screwed the top back on. He picked up his empty cup and walked to the other side of the food court.
Atlanta, Georgia, 1330 hours
After lunch, Emily and Scotty moved to the couch and talked. They were both on their second beer. He had carefully nursed his first one during their meal of steak, baked potatoes, and salad. She was surprised but happy at his moderation. For some reason, she had imagined him as a heavy drinker.
“Have you been a Bulldogs fan all your life?” he asked.
“Pretty much. I grew up watching football with my dad. I went to UGA for a year and then transferred to a technical school to get my EMT and paramedic certifications. Even though it was only for a year, I still consider myself a Bulldog. What about you? Where’d you go to college?”
He laughed. “I didn’t. I barely graduated from high school. The only reason I didn’t drop out was football and wrestling. I joined the army a week after graduation. That was an education, in and of itself. I became a Ranger and spent some time in the Middle East.”
“The Rangers are kind of like Special Forces?” she asked.
“Oh, no, we’re much better than the Special Forces. The SF guys call the Rangers when they get in trouble and we go rescue them. Just to become a Ranger is one of the toughest processes in the world.”
“Really? Tell me about it.”
Scotty told her about the three phases of the rigorous Ranger Course that he had gone through to earn the coveted tab on his uniform. He normally didn’t like to talk about himself but there was something about this girl that made him want to open up. And, she was genuinely interested.
“So, why’d you get out of the army? It’s obvious that you really loved it.”
He thought about it before answering and sighed. “My humvee hit an IED, that’s an improvised explosive device. It busted me up pretty good but it killed two of my best friends.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry!” She put her hand on his forearm. “That had to be a rough time.”
“Yeah, it was and that was a good time for me get out and start over. I enjoyed the army and got to do a lot of fun things but I’d always wanted to be a fireman. I’m glad I did it and they trained me as a paramedic, too. I think that time with the FD let me heal up and it’s a lot of fun to ride around on that big red truck.”
Emily read between the lines and understood that the healing he was talking about was as much emotional as it was physical. After a few years, though, Smith told her that he had gotten bored as a firefighter and decided to do some security contracting in the Middle East.
“Then how’d you end up working for the CDC?” she queried.
The big man’s eyes lit up. “That’s an interesting story.”
His twenty-four hour shift over, Firefighter Smith was ready to get home. They had run calls all night long and he was exhausted. Walking across the parking lot to his Dodge Ram pickup, he noticed a gray Chevrolet Impala parked next to him. One of the prettiest women that he had ever seen got out of the car as he walked by.
“Sergeant Smith?”
His tiredness left him immediately. “Not anymore, but I’ll be anybody you want me to be,” he said with a smile.
She held a badge and an ID card out to him. “My name’s Rebecca Johnson and I work for the Centers for Disease Control.”
“Did you come to give me my flu shot?”
She smiled. “No, I came to talk to you about a job.”
“Well, I’m not the head honcho around here but I’d be happy to show you around our fire station and let you sit in the fire truck. If you’re nice, I’ll even let you help us polish it. And, you look like you’re in pretty good shape so the fire academy shouldn’t be too hard for you.”
The woman rolled her eyes at him. “I came,” she said deliberately, as if she was dealing with a slow child, “to offer you a job.”
Scotty stood in silence for a moment. “Why would I want a job at the CDC? I don’t know anything about malaria, or the flu, or much of anything about diseases.”
“That’s probably why you want to have a cup of coffee with me and listen to my offer.”
“I don’t think so,” he said, continuing towards his truck. “I have some other things going on and I don’t think I’d be interested. Nice talking to you, though.”
“Does the fire department know that you’ve been offered a contract in Iraq? And, really, why do you want to go back over there? It can’t be the money. What are they offering you, a hundred and twenty grand? That’s it? I know the security companies aren’t paying as much as they were a few years ago but I think a man with your skill set can do much better than that.”
Smith realized that he had stopped walking and was staring at her with his mouth open. He’d never been a very good poker player. How did this woman know all of that?
Ten minutes later, Rebecca and Scotty were seated across from each other in the back of a McDonald’s, holding cups of coffee. They studied each other as they sipped their drink. Scotty changed his opinion and now thought Rebecca was the most beautiful woman that he had ever seen. She was definitely the best looking one that he had ever drank coffee with.
He also had the feeling that she was or could be a very good poker player. Her eyes were intelligent and inquisitive but she guarded her emotions well. She also knew exactly what to say to get him to listen to her pitch.
As she talked to him about the CDC Response Teams that they were creating, he found himself being swept along as she said all the right things. Smith had never been a police officer, but as Rebecca Johnson talked to him, all of a sudden, he couldn’t see himself doing anything else. He was ready to sign the contract but when she told him the salary was thirty thousand dollars a year more than he would’ve been making in Iraq as a contractor, he was ready to beg her for a job.
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��It sounds like you have a thing for this woman, Rebecca?” Emily wondered.
“Oh, she’s gorgeous and a great boss but not my type. Plus, I think she and my team leader have the hots for each other.”
“And what’s your type? You kind of strike me as a lady’s man,” she said, playfully. “You probably have a contact list full of girls.”
He frowned. “No, I’m actually pretty boring. I haven’t dated much in the last few years. But as for my type,” he said, looking at her closely, “I can’t think of anyone that I’d rather be sitting here talking to and getting ready to watch football with.”
Emily blushed and looked away from his stare. She said, “Do you like what you’re doing for the CDC, Scotty?”
His face lit up. “This is the best job I’ve ever had. I’m working with some of the top operators in the world and I’m not crawling through a swamp, jungle, or desert. Now, some of the people we meet do want to rip my throat out and eat my flesh, but, hey, we have to take the good with the bad, right?”
She laughed. The more that Emily learned about Scotty, the more she liked him. She was glad that she had come over and was even more excited about watching the Georgia game with him. AC/DC’s “Back in Black” cut through her thoughts. It was coming from Smith’s phone.
“Sorry,” he said, “I have to take this call. It’s my boss.”
“Hey, Eddie, what’s up?”
The expression on Scotty’s face as he listened to the phone let Emily know that she would not be watching the game with him, after all.
Inside Sanford Stadium, Athens, Georgia, 1330 hours