Extinction Level Event (Book 1): Extinction Level Event

by Jones, K. J.

  Mazy cupped her hands together and blasted them up into a guy’s nose. She then dove for a knife on the ground. Grabbing it, she moved to the nearest man, Ben, and cut him loose.

  “Cut ‘em loose,” Mazy ordered Phebe and Mullen.

  The man holding squirming Syanna, let her go. Zip tied Matt tried to get to her. Ben ran and slid his body under her, buffering her fall.

  The menacing Apache Guardian descended. The Little Bird banked towards the building roof. Snipers opened fire, dropping men.

  Reynolds and the rest of his ground men ran to the still-running Suburban. The driver geared into drive and gassed it hard.

  As Mazy, Phebe, and Mullen uncut zip ties, the Suburban raced at them. Everyone dove to the sides. Peter tackled Mullen, forcing him down and out of the way.

  The Apache’s chain gun rotated.

  “Stay down,” Peter yelled.

  The chain gun opened up on the Suburban. Bullets riddled the roof and hood. Glass shattered. Tires deflated. Doors fell off. The hood opened.

  Once it fell on its frame, the Apache flew off. It pursued the Humvees that had taken off.

  Blood pools grew under the devasted Suburban.

  The Little Bird snipers finished the men on roof tops, then flew off.

  All fell quiet.

  7.

  “Wow,” said Peter. “So that’s what they were hunting for. A rogue, bitten Guard platoon.” He back-handed Mullen in the chest. “See, it wasn’t us.”

  “Fucking fantastic.” Mullen looked unhappy. “Can you get these off of me?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe Lyons is still around. You could have an evening of romance.”

  “Don’t, Sully. It’s not even remotely funny.”

  “Kind of is. Throw me that knife.” He caught it and unfolded it. “It didn’t happen, Mullen.” He cut the plastic, freeing the kid. “You’ll laugh at it later.”

  “Yeah.” Mullen stood. “When I’m seventy, maybe.”

  “Well, I’ll be well into my eighties by then.”

  Once everyone was freed, they gathered around the heap that had been the expensive, big Suburban.

  “Thought that would be cooler in real life,” said Mullen.

  “Bubba’s gonna kill you,” Chris said.

  “Nuh,” said Peter. “I only promised to not get her scratched. He said nothing about riddled with bullets.”

  Peter went to the Suburban and struggled to get in. The others watched in confusion. He pulled himself out, holding his compact assault rifle, the F200 Tactical. “The bullets missed my baby. Awesome. Ew, I got asshole blood on me.” He wiped his hands on his pants.

  “Ah, kids,” a voice said from above.

  “Is the dead talking to us?” Peter looked at the sky.

  “We’re about to get a shitload of company.” Ben had found his way on top of the bus, reunited with his rifle.

  “Well, that fun over,” said Peter. “On to the next crisis. Grab up these assholes’ M4s.”

  “We got M4A1s,” said Jimbo. “They packed the Guard with some nice fire power.”

  “Great,” said Peter. “They could have done to my neck what the Apache did to the Suburban.”

  M4A1 was fully auto capable.

  “I need a nap,” Chris griped. “I ain’t in shape no more for this constant shit. I’m in the fucking Mog with zombies instead of Somalians.”

  “Hey,” said Jimbo. “Sergeant Major Jackson did it. Ran the Mog mile, too.”

  “He was nineteen. I’m near old enough to be a green Ranger’s daddy.”

  “Think of it this way,” said Jimbo. “You’re twice the man you used to be.”

  Peter patted Chris’s belly. “More like three times, I’d say.”

  They laughed at Chris as they walked to the two remaining SUVs.

  “What the fuck kind of parking job is this,” Matt roared.

  “Oh man,” said Jimbo. “These guys are pricks to the end.”

  They had parallel parked the SUVs between abandoned vehicles, leaving inches to either bumper.

  “Let’s get this going,” Julio said, scanning around.

  They worked on freeing the Beast first. Entering the vehicles in front and back. They were unlocked but without keys. They released the hand brake of manual transmissions and shifted automatics into neutral. This made it feasible to push them forward or backwards. Getting out turned into a fourteen-point turn.

  The men pushed the cars in front of the Jimmy.

  “Hurry your asses,” Ben said through the radio. “A herd four clicks and closing fast.”

  Phebe had a radio. She and Mullen stood to the side, shivering in the cold—their blankets obliterated in the Suburban. Syanna rested on the ground by their feet, using Phebe’s leg as her prop-up pillow to watch through heavy lids.

  “Great,” Phebe said. “Even Ben is making zombie entertainment references. Herd’s from Walking Dead.”

  “I know,” said Mullen. “Haven’t been living in a cave.”

  “No need to get snappy.”

  “You didn’t almost get …” His sentence trailed off, realizing who he was talking to.

  “I didn’t almost get what, Mullen? Violently raped? Gang raped? Absolutely infected, if I should live that long.”

  “Sorry. I just …”

  “We’re alive and okay. They are dead. Let’s get past it. We got new and improved problems.”

  “Hey, do you really have hepatitis C?”

  “As much as Mazy’s name is Gloria.”

  “Why’d she say her name was Gloria?”

  “I dunno.”

  “Oh.” He sighed shakily. “I miss my home.”

  “Don’t go there.”

  “It’s only been one day. Ya know? Only one damn day. Not even yet. Everything’s different. Everything’s gone.”

  “It feels like a week.”

  “Just one day tonight. For me. When my car flipped. God. That really does seem so long ago. Just last night.” He wryly laughed. “Just last night.”

  “Hey. We’ll get through this. Okay? Chin up.”

  “We got miles to go, and then what?”

  “We get to the boat, head out to the Atlantic and we leave the hot zone.”

  “To where? A tropical island?”

  “Probably to the North. I have family there. Sounds like Peter does too.”

  “What about me? My parents are dead. If not yet, then soon they will be. Eventually, any day, whatever, however long it takes for infected to die.”

  “Do you have family elsewhere?”

  “I barely know my relatives. And they’re all in North Carolina. The hot zone, right? I’m an orphan now. All my friends are even gone.”

  “Hey. You’ll come with one of us then. We won’t leave you behind.”

  “You promise?”

  “I promise, Mullen.”

  Ben’s voice on the radio, “Two klicks. They’ll be on you within five mikes.”

  Peter bellowed, “Into the SUVs, people. Civvies, join the Jimmy. Chris, we’re in the Beast.”

  The Jimmy wasn’t entirely out. Mazy helped Phebe carry Syanna. Jimbo gave hand directions to Matt in the fourteen-point turn out.

  The Beast rolled forward and stopped at the bus to pick up Ben, then squeezed in the space left by the Humvees.

  “Move it, people,” Peter’s voice commanded over the radio.

  The Jimmy free. They whipped open the back-window glass and lowered the tailgate. Mullen hurried into the passenger door and helped pull Syanna in from the backseat. She nestled in among Matt’s stuff.

  “Out of time,” Jimbo yelled.

  Mazy and Syanna jumped up on the tailgate.

  “Hey, watch it,” Syanna snapped at them. They crawled over her and into the backseat.

  The noises of the mass of infected grew. They were merely twenty yards away.

  Mullen dashed upfront and closed the passenger side door. The Jimmy rolled, moving towards the opening beside the bus.

  �
�Jim, get in,” Mazy yelled.

  He fired at the oncoming infected. The rat-at-tat-tat of the rifle mixed with the horrid sounds of the oncoming monsters.

  “Get in now!” she yelled.

  He jumped on the tailgate. The Jimmy rolled faster. Jimbo threw himself backwards. Syanna screamed in pain. He lunged forward and grabbed the tailgate and yanked it shut. Syanna began to try to maneuver herself over the backseat.

  Matt drove faster towards the opening.

  The monsters kept up.

  “Hit it, Matt,” Jimbo yelled. He reached out to grab the glass. An infected grabbed him.

  “Jim,” Mazy screamed. She rushed over the backseat.

  Matt’s increasing speed helped the infected pull Jimbo.

  “Slow down,” Mazy ordered.

  Her boyfriend struggled with an infected. She reached out the window and shot at it.

  Infected swarmed the back end of the Jimmy. Hands grabbed Mazy. New hands on Jimbo. Chaos exploded.

  Ghoulish monsters pushed into the opening. Syanna screamed. Terrified beyond pain, she pushed herself further and further over the backseat.

  Matt had to slow down to get through the opening, giving the monsters opportunity to close in further around the opened back. But forcing the flanking ones to stop and funnel.

  Phebe crawled over the backseat. Pushing forward the 9 mm, she fired at every nasty face she saw. The shot sounds mixed with the bombardment of the monster’s sounds, Syanna’s screams and Matt yelling for status on what was happening.

  Jimbo braced his legs against the tailgate to hold himself inside. Mazy pulled at his arms in a tug-a-war. Another came at her side and chomped her forearm. She yelled.

  Phebe fired to free them. Fingers took a hold of her hair. They began to pull her through the window opening.

  Mullen crawled back. He placed the handle of a large hunting knife into Phebe’s outstretched hand. She cut the lock of hair, freeing herself, and flung backwards from the sudden release.

  There were too many monsters. The Jimmy cleared the opening to free space. They swarmed around the back end of the vehicle again, blocking out the sunlight. Their hands hit on the side windows. Syanna hysterically screamed.

  Jimbo kept inching out. Multiple monsters pulled at him. His legs lost the tug-a-war. Mazy grabbed him around the waist. Phebe held the back of his gun belt. They pulled. The infected were stronger.

  In the blind of an eye, Jimbo disappeared. Ripped from their grasp and swallowed up in the crowd of monsters.

  “Jim,” Mazy screamed. “Jim!”

  The monsters pushed in, gaining leverage on the bumper.

  Phebe yelled, “Matt, hit it. Go go go!”

  “Nooo,” Mazy wailed. She moved to crawl out the window after him.

  Phebe grabbed her and pushed her back. She laid where they fell, holding down the distraught girlfriend.

  The monsters fell away as the Jimmy sped up. One climbed the tailgate. Phebe and Mazy kicked the heels of their shoes into its face until it fell away.

  Faster and faster the Jimmy sped, the monsters grew smaller in the distance. Quiet descended.

  “Status report,” Matt demanded. No one spoke. “Talk to me. What happened? Sound off.”

  Phebe cleared her throat. “Jimbo’s gone.”

  “What?”

  Mullen said, “Conway. He’s gone.”

  Matt was quiet. “Shit!” He hit the steering wheel several times. “Shit shit shit.”

  Mazy stared out the open window. Phebe kept holding her.

  “Oh God,” Syanna cried.

  Mazy sniffled and sat up. Her facial expression hardened. “We have to get on with the mission.” A swipe of her nose with her sleeve. “Mourn later.”

  “You’ve been bitten,” said Phebe.

  Mazy looked at her sleeve. She pulled off her leather gloves and unbuttoned the dark blue police uniform sleeve. She rolled it up, revealing a layer of newspaper duct taped around her arm. The bite had ripped a couple of pages.

  “How about you?” Mazy asked.

  They investigated Phebe’s arms. They showed no bites or scratches. Nothing on her neck. Only a chunk of her hair sticking out from where she had sawed through it. The chunk stood up at about three inches.

  “Okay.” Mazy sighed, then raised her volume. “Matt, we’re clear of bites.”

  “Good.” His voice sounded flat and depressed. He took up the radio. “We need to stop at the next possible. Over.”

  “Understood,” said Peter’s voice. “Over.”

  They caught up to the Beast. The two SUVs continued. They reached the back route and entered an area where houses stood spaced far apart on large acreage plots. A roadside sign gave directions to a country club’s turn off. No wrecked or abandoned cars. No dead bodies. No infected. The area looked untouched by the catastrophe consuming the rest of the city.

  After a while, the Beast’s right-hand signal came on, followed by its brake lights. The vehicles stopped.

  Matt got out. Ignoring the men approaching him, he went to the back of his Jimmy and closed the window. Without a word, he returned to his seat behind the wheel and closed the door. He rolled down the window for Peter.

  “Everyone all right?” Peter bowed his head to see everyone inside. He sensed the vibe.

  Mazy crawled over the backseat, careful to not step on Mullen and Syanna’s legs. She made her way to the front seat.

  “Report?” Peter insisted.

  Staring straight ahead, Matt said, “They got Jimbo.”

  Peter stepped back as if he had taken a blow.

  Chris, cradling his rifle, guarded a few feet away. “What’s up?”

  Peter gulped and turned. “Conway.”

  Chris studied his face. “Fuck.” He kicked at an invisible stone. “Fuck.”

  Peter collected himself. “Everyone else?”

  “We’re all fine,” Matt said, in that same flat voice.

  “Okay. We’re almost there. Just hold tight, everyone. We’re almost there.”

  Mazy pulled on her seatbelt. Matt hit the locks.

  The convoy of two vehicles rolled on, speeding faster and faster.

  Chapter Five

  The End of the Road

  1.

  A white blur ran out into the road. Julio Reyes slammed on the brakes. The menacing bumper came within inches of hitting it. Julio looked into the rearview to see if Matt stopped in time.

  “Now there dang ghosts,” Chris wailed from the backseat.

  “It’s not a ghost,” Ben snapped at him.

  “What the hell?” Peter muttered from the front seat.

  A man in a white biohazard suit looked at them from the front of the Beast. His hood was down. His face exposed. No face mask. No gloves. No possessions with him. But the arm of the suit showed rips and dried blood.

  Peter lowered his window and leaned out. Julio pressed the lever of the radio so the occupants of the Jimmy could hear.

  “Uhm, hello?” Peter called.

  “D—Don’t hurt me,” the man stuttered. His shaking hands raised in front of him in a double stop motion.

  “Not intending on it. What are you doing out here?”

  “M-my car ran out of gas. It’s up—up there.” He pointed further down the road.

  Ben said from the backseat, “This dude is seriously shell shock.”

  “Okay,” said Peter to the man. “But, uhm, why are you dressed that way?”

  The man suddenly rushed the window. “You have guns? I need you to shoot me.”

  “Whoa. Hit the brakes there, sir. What’s your deal?”

  The man scanned around. “I—I haven’t seen them here.”

  “Them, as in the zoms? We haven’t seen them on this road either. But, uhm, back to why you’re dressed that way.”

  The man’s head shot around to him. “I’m with the Center for Disease Control and Prevention.”

  “Whoa.”

  Julio said, “I think we need to have a conversation
with this guy.”

  Peter whispered, “I don’t want him in here with us.”

  “I second that,” Chris said from the back. “He way too twitchy.”

  “He’s bitten,” Peter whispered. “See his arm?”

  “Aw, hell to the no. He could turn any second.”

  Ben glared at Chris. “It’s not the movies.”

  Chris’s big shoulders shrugged. “I ain’t counting on nothing.”

  Peter said, “Let’s get out to talk to him.” He leaned closer to the radio. “Gleason, we’re getting out. Give me a perimeter, people.”

  Outside of the vehicles, the former military personnel cast a perimeter circle.

  Phebe got out of the Jimmy.

  “Whoa,” said Peter. “Where do you think you’re going, hotshot?”

  “To talk to this man,” she stated.

  “No, you’re not.”

  She sighed. “I’m the most educated person here.”

  “Oh. Throwing that in our faces?”

  “I’m talking to him, and that’s that.”

  “Wow. You are head strong. Well, stay close to me.”

  “Fine.”

  “Mazey, do you want in on this, too, as an educated person?”

  Standing perimeter, she said, “I majored in languages. If you need me to translate from scared shitless to English, then I’m your girl.”

  “Nuh, think I can translate that, too. But thanks.”

  Peter and Matt had Phebe between them.

  The man muttered to himself. His eyes wider than Mullen’s and darting back and forth.

  “Sir,” Phebe said. His gaze moved to her. “Hi. Can you tell me why you’re in a clean suit out here?”

  “They–they were supposed to come and get us. We waited. They didn’t come. They’re not taking anyone out. Anyone!”

  “You mean, they won’t take the National Guard out either?” asked Peter.

  “Nobody. You’re all dead. We’re all dead.” He looked down at his wounded arm. “I’ll be one of them. Only a matter of time.”

  “Okay. Stay calm,” Phebe said. “The CDC was here, right?”

  “Yeah yeah yeah.” He nodded repeatedly. His gaze turned pleading. “No one wanted to keep this quiet. No one wanted to. Soon as the report came in from the hospital. A team was sent in. They died.”