Dead America: The First Week Box Set Books 1-7 (Dead America Box Sets Book 2)

by Derek Slaton

  “General, is there any indication of other mass migrations of zombies towards your location?” Adams asked.

  “Negative, General,” Stephens confirmed. “Typically it’s a few hundred here and there, but nothing more widespread yet. That said, I do have significant manpower stationed on every major interstate and highway coming out of the large cities as a precaution. We should be fine for the moment, but if both of those cities empty out at once we might be in a bit of trouble.”

  “General, this is John Teeter,” John cut in. “We have assumed that might be the case, and have come up with a target destination for the troops under your command.”

  “Guessing it’s the Pacific Northwest?” Stephens replied, and the room fell silent.

  Whitney shook her head. “Seattle to be specific, but how did you know about that? We literally came up with the idea a minutes ago.”

  “Just made logical sense, as I’m sure you’ve already determined,” the General said. “Natural barriers, access to vital goods.”

  Williams leaned forward. “Well, since you seem to be a step ahead of us here, do you have any bright ideas on how to move a quarter million men halfway across the country?”

  “With the supply lines out of commission it’s unlikely there is enough fuel to travel via standard transport,” Whitney mused.

  “As a matter of fact, I do,” Stephens cut in. “Yesterday I sent a small scout team north to commandeer a train from the yards in North Platte. I heard from them a few hours ago, and they were having success charting a course north, clearing the way for us to use the remaining trains as a transport to the Northwest.”

  Williams blinked at the phone, and clapped his hands together. “General, I must say, I am impressed by your initiative. Do they have an ETA on clearing the path?”

  “It’s really hard to tell at this point, Mister President,” Stephens replied. “It’s going to be dependent on what sort of human resistance they run into, and how many abandoned trains are clogging up the rail lines.”

  “Understood General,” Williams said. “But give me your best guess. I promise I won’t hold you to it.”

  Stephens paused for a moment. “Ballpark?” he finally said. “Seven to ten days. Once the route is clear, it will take less than a week to shift our assets to Seattle.”

  “Very good, General,” Williams said, and then looked around the table. “Does anybody have anything else?”

  Whitney leaned forward. “General Stephens?”

  “Yes, ma’am?” came the reply.

  “We have a loose plan in place to supply the civilian strongholds that have popped up around the country, mostly in small communities,” she explained. “We are going to require your assistance on this.”

  “What can I do, ma’am?” he asked.

  “I’m going to be working on the logistics once this meeting is concluded,” she assured him. “However, if you want to start finding long haul truckers with rigs, that will be a huge help. We’re also going to need two and three-man teams to accompany them for safety.”

  “Consider it done, ma’am,” Stephens assured her.

  Whitney nodded. “Thank you General, I’ll be in touch soon.”

  “Thank you, General,” Williams added.

  “Mister President,” Stephens replied, and then there was a click.

  “Adams, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say Stephens in gunning for your position,” the President teased.

  Adams barked a laugh. “Pretty sure the only reason he’s not in my position is because I have a few years on him. He’s a valuable asset and is going to do a lot of good.”

  There was a knock at the door.

  “Come in, Vicky,” Williams said.

  She poked her head in. “Mister President, we have a satellite uplink with our fleet in the Gulf of Mexico as you requested.”

  “Thank you Vicky, please patch them through,” he instructed, and she nodded before disappearing again.

  John raised an eyebrow. “Something special planned, Mister President?”

  “Yes,” Williams replied with a somber nod. “I requested that our head researcher give us an update on the virus.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  “Hello?” Williams asked into the conference phone. “Who am I speaking with, please?”

  “Um…” a nervous young voice came back. “My name is Ben Jackson, sir.”

  “Hello Ben, this is President Williams,” he said formally. “I’m here with John Teeter, General Adams, and Whitney Hill.”

  Ben cleared his throat. “Hello, everyone.”

  “Ben, please don’t take this as an insult,” Williams said gently, “but you sound rather young to be heading up research on this virus.”

  “Yes, Mister President, I am young,” Ben replied, and cleared his throat again. When he spoke again, his voice was a little stronger. “I was a graduate student working under Doctor Alvison. On the day this nightmare began, we were brought the research direct from the bio-terrorist compound to analyze. I was subsequently tracked down and brought to this research ship to help the other scientists decipher what Doctor Alvison had discovered.”

  “Ben, this is John Teeter,” John cut in. “We all appreciate the work that you’ve done, and again please don’t take this the wrong way, but is there nobody with more experience heading up the research?”

  “Not on this vessel, sir,” Ben replied. “Or in the fleet for that matter. This is an extremely specialized area of research and there aren’t a lot of us going around. However, we have been able to reach a few experts who were evacuated to the football stadiums around the country. At the moment though, nobody has a fully functional lab set up. So for the time being, I’m all you’ve got.”

  There was a moment of awkward silence until Whitney leaned forward.

  “Well, Ben, why don’t you give us an update on what you’ve found so far?” she asked.

  “With pleasure, ma’am,” he replied, his voice no longer shaking. “As you know, the virus is airborne and according to several models we’ve run, approximately ninety-nine point nine five percent of the world’s population has been infected. Only ones spared at the moment are those on remote islands in secluded jungle areas. And anybody with the A-blood type has already turned.”

  “In your research, have you been able to make any progress towards a cure?” Williams asked.

  Ben paused. “A cure, sir?” he swallowed audibly. “Well, some of the preliminary tests we’ve done have shown that it’s theoretically possible to neutralize the virus in a victim, however we haven’t found a way to administer that outside of a laboratory setting.”

  “And in all honesty, it would be a waste of time,” Whitney cut in. “Anyone who was bitten would die from the bacterial infection of the bites. Not to mention the damage caused to the body from going without food and water for extended periods of time.”

  “Well, if not a cure, what about a vaccine?” Williams asked.

  “Again, in theory, yes, I believe a vaccine should be possible,” Ben replied.

  The President smiled and took a sip of his coffee. “That is fantastic news, son. Fantastic news. I think we should be moving forward with this immediately.”

  “Mister President,” John said carefully, “I believe that would be a waste of our extremely limited resources.”

  Williams set his mug down a little harder than necessary. “I disagree, John.”

  “Mister President, I don’t say this lightly, but if you choose to use our resources on coming up with a vaccine, it’s going to get a lot of people killed,” John insisted.

  Williams sat up ramrod straight. “You’re being overdramatic.”

  “On the contrary sir, my assessment is dead on,” John argued.

  “Noted, John,” the President replied, and then turned back to the phone. “Ben, I want your top priority to be the vaccine.”

  “No!” John stood up from his chair and smacked the table hard. “This is the wrong course and people will d
ie as a result. We don’t have time to be messing around with a worthless vaccine!”

  Williams stood up as well, drawing up to his full height, which was considerably taller than his angry subordinate. “You are out of line, John!” he bellowed.

  John ignored him. “Ben, you still with us?” he asked.

  Ben hesitated. “Yes, sir,” he replied quietly.

  “Hypothetical for you,” John said. “Let’s say everything goes smoothly and you get every single thing right on the first try. You get the perfect human safe vaccine on the first go, and your first set of human trials go perfectly. What’s the timetable on that?”

  “Uh…” Ben stammered. “Five… may… maybe six months?”

  “And what sort of facilities would you need in order to produce millions of vaccines?” John continued. “Not to mention what materials you’d need, or how to distribute it?”

  “I honestly don’t know, sir,” came the nervous reply. “I know there are a few facilities that could handle that level of production, but I have no idea if they’d have the resources required since I don’t know what all is going into the vaccine.”

  “Ben, I’m gonna put you on hold for a minute,” John informed him. “The President and I have something to discuss. Don’t go anywhere, now.”

  “I’m not going anywhere, sir,” Ben said firmly.

  John hit the mute button on the conference phone, and Williams sank back down into his chair, the facts sinking in slowly.

  “Mister President,” John declared, “we have a much, much larger threat to our remaining population than zombie infections. Common viruses like the flu will kill far more people than someone getting bitten, surviving, and turning.”

  “The reality is at this point Mister President,” Whitney cut in, “that most people who are killed by zombies are going to be mostly devoured, so even if they do reanimate they won’t pose a threat.”

  The President scrubbed his hands down his face. “I hear you both,” he assured them, “and you make great points. However, one day and one day soon we are going to retake part of this country. Civilians are going to leave their fortifications and come to our stronghold. If we are going to keep the peace and succeed in rebuilding civilization, people will need to have their minds put at ease. They are going to have to know that their neighbor isn’t going to turn into a zombie in the middle of the night because they are hiding a bite.” He clasped his hands on the table in front of him. “This is why we need the vaccine.”

  Adams took a deep breath. “How about a compromise?”

  All eyes turned to him, and the President motioned for him to continue.

  “Set aside ten percent of time and resources towards developing a vaccine,” the General began. “Keep the focus on what is necessary now, which is developing the flu vaccine and getting it distributed. As we get closer to securing the Northwest, we can ramp up production on the zombie vaccine. People will gladly remain vigilant, especially if they know a vaccine is on the way.”

  Williams raised an eyebrow. “John, are you good with that?”

  “I am, sir.” John nodded firmly.

  “Good,” the President replied. “Oh, and Whitney, add finding a flu vaccine production facility to your list of tasks.”

  The redhead scribbled a note on one of her pages. “Yes, sir.”

  Williams reached over and unmuted the phone. “Thank you for holding, Ben.”

  “My pleasure, sir,” the young man replied.

  “For the foreseeable future, your primary objective is to come up with basic, everyday vaccines and medications,” Williams said. “Treating the flu, providing insulin, common things that keep people alive.”

  Ben paused. “What about my research, sir?”

  “I want you to set aside ten percent of your time to work on a vaccine,” Williams explained. “If you want to assign tasks to researchers in our fortresses who have limited supplies, please feel free to do so at your discretion.”

  “Thank you sir, I won’t let you down,” Ben replied.

  “I have no doubt, son,” Williams assured him. “And you have my assistant Vicky’s direct line. So if you need anything, don’t hesitate to reach out.”

  “I will do that, sir,” Ben said.

  The President smiled. “We’ll be in touch, son.” He hit the button to turn off the phone. “Okay, I think that about covers everything for today. Unless someone has something else we need to discuss?”

  Adams and John both shook their heads, but Whitney dug through her papers.

  “Something else, Miss Hill?” Williams asked.

  She pushed a stack of papers into the center of the table. “Yes, Mister President, there is,” she said. “We have to talk about isolating the east coast.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  “I’m sorry, you want to do what?” the President exclaimed.

  “We need to isolate the east coast, and do it sooner rather than later,” Whitney replied, voice even. “With reports coming in that zombie hordes are breaking out of the cities, we may not have a lot of time.”

  “Time to do what?” Williams flattened his hands against the table in agitation. “You want to barricade the bridges over the Mississippi?”

  She pursed her lips. “Not exactly.”

  There was a moment of silence as she let the insinuation hang in the air.

  Williams’ eyes widened when he realized what she meant. “No way in hell! You want to destroy the bridges over the Mississippi? There are a hundred and twenty million people east of the river!”

  “It’s actually closer to a hundred and fifty million,” John piped up, “and that’s exactly the reason we need to do this. Most of those people are zombies now, and conceding the east coast to them will give us a much better chance at securing the other two thirds of the country.”

  “Unacceptable,” the President clenched his fists. “Out of the question. What about the survivors who aren’t lucky enough to be in a self sustaining bunker like we are?”

  “We can still provide supplies to them,” John replied.

  Williams furrowed his brow. “If we destroy all the bridges, then how will we accomplish that?”

  “Mister President, if I may?” Whitney piped up, and handed out sheets to everyone. “My team and I have identified six rail line bridges, circled on these maps, that are located in less populated areas,” she explained. “We will keep these bridges, as the number of zombie that find their way across them will be negligible. This will allow us to move massive amounts of goods across via rail car, and since these are in smaller towns, we can send in strike teams to clear them out and set up bases.”

  Williams stared at the paper for a moment longer before tossing it down onto the table. “General, what are our capabilities?” he asked, sounding even more exhausted than he had at the beginning of the meeting.

  “We have several carrier groups off of the east coast that are equipped with Tomahawk cruise missiles, which will be able to eliminate a large number of the targets,” Adams replied. “For the Upper Mississippi River, we will have to rely on aircraft coming from some of the Kansas air bases that are still manned.”

  “Very well, General,” Williams relented with a wave of his hand. “Make it happen.”

  Adams nodded. “Yes, sir.”

  The President pressed his lips into a thin line, staying quiet for a moment before folding his hands in front of him once again. “This is a dark time in our nation’s history,” he finally said. “I greatly appreciate each and everyone one of your efforts, as well as the pushback. No President in the history of our nation has ever faced a threat on his scale, so I’m in uncharted territory. So thank you, all of you.”

  John nodded. “It’s our pleasure, Mister President.”

  “Now, I want us to meet like this every two days,” Williams continued. “General, I want you to begin work on the Seattle invasion plan. Assume we’re going to have troops arriving by rail from the east and sea support from the west. Whitney, I want
you to coordinate with General Stephens on getting the caravans going to survivor compounds. As well as cataloging where they are. And if you can spare the manpower, start searching for settlements we haven’t found yet. John, I need you to locate a vaccine facility and figure out how we can get to it, secure it, and manufacture what we need.”

  There was a chorus of yes, sir through the room.

  “And I want everyone to remember,” Williams declared, standing up from his seat and squaring his shoulders, “that even though things may be looking down and we have a tough road ahead of us, the state of our union is strong.”

  END

  Coming soon: The action shifts to a tiny community on the banks of the Mississippi River when the next series, Dead America: The Second Week kicks off.