The Z Strain

by Matthew Isaiah Crawford

  “No.” Sargent Ferris said still not wanting to move.

  “What’s that blood on your shirt?” Taylor asked seeing blood on his sleeve.

  “No, friendly fire.” Sargent Ferris sighed. “Everyone was running, panicking. Some were shooting blindly behind them. I got grazed, it’s not bad.”

  “What’s your name?” Andrea asked.

  “Sgt. Daniel Ferris.” Andrea lowered her weapon, and Taylor sat up. Sgt. Ferris joined them under the outcropping.

  “My name is Andrea, this is Taylor. Let me take a look at that, I’m a doctor.” Andrea said as she began rooting through her pack. Sargent Ferris relaxed a bit and came a little closer to the girls. He took a seat on the rocks next to them.

  “Sure, thanks.” He said as he began slowly and painfully removing his shirt. Andrea began examining the wound.

  “Do you know what the hell happened down there?” Taylor asked. There was some hostility behind her tone. She was pretty angry at the army failing to protect or warn them of the impending danger.

  “There was an army.” He explained. “We thought they were just a group of survivors, they had a bunch of semis. All of a sudden, the trailers opened, and the undead began flowing out. Then from behind all the semis they started shelling us. Mortar fire began exploding all around the camp, it was decimated in minutes. Then it.” He paused thinking back at the massacre. “Then the valley started to fill up with zombies. There was nothing to do but run.”

  “Did you ever look back?” Taylor asked looking off down into the valley below.

  “Only once and I was way high up on the mountain. There were thousands, we didn’t stand a chance at stopping that many. For every fucker you took down the crowd gained ten feet.”

  “Yea, we saw the same thing on the secondary line.” Andrea said. Even that massive explosion that took out half the road only slowed them for a moment.”

  “This is insane.” Taylor said.

  “It’s quite brilliant honestly. We had preparations in place for an approaching hoard, but we let them pass because we thought they were survivors. Then by the time we realized they were releasing undead we were already being overwhelmed. They were streaming up the mountainside, swarming every living person like a swarm of ants.” Sgt. Ferris seemed to lose track of what he was saying. He was gazing off into the distance shaking his head back and forth. “There was no way to stop them, there were just too many. How did they get so many?”

  “Who were they?” Andrea asked.

  “I don’t know, we never knew.”

  “How did you make it out?” Asked Taylor.

  “I actually fell and got swept down river. Almost drowned. When I finally got ahold of the bank, the dead had been called back to the entrance.”

  “Was that what that big explosion was?” Andrea asked.

  “I think it may have just been a firework.” Said Ferris.

  “How do you think they knew? How did they find us here of all places?” Taylor inquired.

  “We never broadcast our location, we went and picked people up if it was safe.” Sargent Ferris thought about it for a minute. “Thermal imaging satellites. That would be the only way.” He said decisively.

  “And who would have access to satellites?” Asked Andrea.

  “FBI, DOD, CIA, DEA, DHS, NASA, The white house.”

  “That’s a lot of suspects.” Said Taylor. Andrea finished dressing the wound.”

  “Indeed.” Ferris agreed. “Thanks.” He said nodding at Andrea.

  “What else could they do?” Asked Taylor.

  “If they have that level access, you name it, they could track you just about anywhere. Coordinate missile attacks, maybe even launch a nuclear strike.”

  “I thought only the president could do that.” She said.

  “You need the President and the Secretary of Defense. Or someone else in the hierarchy of succession.”

  “And how many people does that include?” Andrea asked.

  “Seventeen.” The soldier answered without hesitation.

  “Lot of suspects.” Taylor repeated.

  4:44 AM Monday, August 19th

  Nick found himself standing in his basement in South Carolina, his three daughters lying dead on the cement floor under sheets next to him. He turns and sees his wife cowering in the corner, alive! He approaches, he can feel his anger brewing through his chest into his neck. A white-hot ball of rage and hatred sticking there, choking him. He feels his heart breaking into a thousand pieces over the murder of his beautiful daughters. Thoughts of his little girls spill from his memory, their births, playing hide and go seek, tea parties, all the wonderful father daughter moments flying by in a torrent that moves so fast that he feels completely overwhelmed. He wonders if any of them realized that mommy had poisoned them before they died. That fatal moment when they realized that the woman that had given them life, whom they loved and trusted unconditionally, had also taken their lives from them because of her own fears.

  As he approaches his wife, his fists clench. The dust from the basement fills his nostrils. Carla looks up at him terrified, she’s apologizing, “please, please, I’m sorry, I thought you were dead! Please forgive me, Pleeeeeeeeeeese!” Nick grabs her by the hair and brings his fist down across the bridge of her nose breaking it, spraying blood across the room. He raises his hand in the air smashing it down over and over and over again. He looked down at his hand, it is broken and bloody. It drips on the graves of his daughters his wife’s skeletal remains hang on the wall next to sheet with faded red words that read; MOTHER OF 3, MURDERING COWARD. LOOK UPON THE GRAVES OF YOUR CHILDREN FOR ALL ETERNITY. ROT IN HELL BITCH. His daughter’s voices rise from the graves.

  “Where were you daddy? Why did you let us to die? You left us daddy.” They cry. Nick falls to his knees and grabs the dirt with both hands and wails at the heavens. Then three pairs of little hands emerge from the dirt and begin to pull him under. He screams out in terror!

  Nick awakens in a cold sweat. His new traveling partner Billy is sleeping in a ball against the back wall of an abandoned house they had settled into late last night. The road had been thick with stalled vehicles, but the range rover had been able to go off road, and even had a push bar on the front so they were able move a few cars out of the way when necessary without causing any significant damage. They had been in some wide-open country for the most part, avoiding large populations when possible. Though they had run into a few herds wandering through the road, the Rover was agile enough to avoid the brunt of them. Still with the blockades of cars and other obstacles, the progress had been fairly slow. They had only just made it into Kentucky when Nick began feeling exhausted.

  His eyes scan the flat countryside for someplace to hold up. An eternity passes as he searches the desolate landscape before finally noticing a derelict house in the distance. He woke Billy who had been sleeping for the last few hours curled up in the passenger seat. The boy yawned and stretched in his seat.

  The Land Rover kicked up a cloud of dust as Nick skids to a stop in front of the faded green house. There are several large pieces of siding missing, and several windows are broken out.

  They grabbed their packs from the back seat and stumbled on stiff legs into the house. There was nothing inside, it had been gutted long ago by the looks of it. They walked up the stairs and stepped into an empty bedroom. There was a broken door sitting against the wall in the corner. Nick picked it up and leaned it against the frame. He didn’t think it would stop anything, but it made him feel better to be in a closed room. Billy had already curled up on the floor using his pack as a pillow. Nick walked over and joined him, turning off his flashlight he was enveloped by darkness. The nightmare soon to follow.

  Now the morning sunlight is spreading across the planes, and the light is displaying the state of their little hideout. There were gaping holes in the walls where the pipes and wires had been yanked out to sell for scrap. The few remnants of brown paisley wallpaper cling in sparse patches, an
d the drywall behind it is crumbling away forming little white piles around the floorboards.

  Nick opens up his pack and pulls out a can of peaches and a fork. He pulls off the lid and begins eating his breakfast. Billy begins to stir but doesn’t wake. Nick finishes his can of peaches and gets to his feet. He cracks his aching back as he walks over to the window. Nick sees the Range Rover parked in front of the house, nothing moving as far as the eye can see. The horizon is a hue of burnt orange with some storm clouds on the horizon obscuring the full light of the sun.

  “Ugh, what’s for breakfast? I’m starving.” Billy said sitting up and rubbing his eyes.

  “Morning.” Nick said turning away from the window.

  “Morning.” Billy replied.

  “I had peaches, there’s also pears, or oranges.”

  “Mmm. I don’t know. I wish I had some fruity pebbles.”

  “Sorry, no luck on that one.” Nick smiled.

  “I guess I’ll take the oranges.” Nick reaches into the pack and hands Billy the can, and a plastic fork.

  “Thanks.” Billy sets the fork in his lap and began to work on the lid, trying to pull up the tab on the can. “Can you help me?” He holds the can out towards Nick.

  “Yea, sorry.” Nick took the can, opened it and handed it back placing the lid inside his empty can of peaches.

  “Who’s Carla?” Billy asked through a mouthful of oranges. Nick was taken back, he couldn’t think of how Billy would know about his wife.

  “She. She was my wife.” Nick said with a puzzled look on his face.

  “Why were you mad at her?” Billy asked.

  “How do you know this Billy?” Nick was dumbfounded.

  “You talk in your sleep.” Billy said accidentally spitting half and orange on the ground.

  “Gross.”

  “Sorry.” Billy smiled.

  “What did I say?”

  “Only a couple bad words. You called her the ‘B’ word.”

  “Yea, I was. I am mad at her. She killed my girls.”

  “You had daughters?”

  “Yea, three.” Nick said as tears well in his eyes.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Yea, me too.” Nick sighed. “I haven’t really given myself a chance to think about it. Been too busy trying to survive I guess.”

  “Yea. Me too, my parents I mean.”

  “You worried about them.”

  “Yes. Especially my mom, she was the best.”

  “Moms usually are.”

  “But not your wife?”

  “She was in the beginning.” Nick sighed. “So, what’s the plan for today, just keep going north?”

  “Keep going north.” Billy agreed. Nick got to his feet and picked up his pack. Nick stops dead in his tracks, he hears the sound of an approaching vehicle. Nick got to one knee and moved to the window. “Shh, quiet.” He motioned to Billy.

  Outside a black pickup truck with shiny chrome rims slowed out on the road. Voices could be heard, but Nick couldn’t’ make out what they were saying. The truck pulls off to the side of the road and three people jump out of the truck.

  “Dave, go around back.” One of the men said. Dave, a paunchy balding man in his forties jogged around the right side of the building. The other two men walked through the front door. Once inside nick heard one of them yell out.

  “If anyone is here, come out with your hands up and you will not be harmed!”

  “Fuck.” Nick said under his breath. Billy gave him a look of shock and amazement. Nick got the feeling that cursing was not a part of his household. “Sorry.” Billy just stared at him.

  “Can we go out that way?” Billy asked pointing out the window. Nick craned his head up. He could see that there was roof under the window, you could step out and walk around to the side of the house. Nick decided it was a good plan. He looked down at the vehicles. There was one man sitting in the truck on the road. He was listening to music and not paying attention. There were two men trying to break in to the Range Rover. And Nick new that there was at least one or two more that had gone around the back of the building when they first pulled up.

  Seeing that no eyes were looking his way Nick stood and stepped out of the window. The ledge below was narrow, maybe a foot and a half of roof with a tin gutter attached. Nick slid is feet carefully moving around the side of the building, out of sight from the vehicles. Billy was on his heels, actually holding on to a strap on his backpack.

  They made it to the roof of the garage, Nick decided it would be best to jump down into the back yard. He crawled to the rear of the building and looked down. A gaping hole in the back of the house where a sliding glass door used to be led out to a small porch. Nick didn’t see anyone back there. He heard someone inside the house cough. Sounded to be either in the room they had just been in, or the one across the hall. Nick sat down, swinging his legs out over the side. He pushed himself off the edge and came down on the ground hard losing his footing and falling back on his pack.

  He grunted as he rolled over and got up to his feet.

  “You okay?” Billy whispered from the roof.

  “Yea. Come on.” Nick said holding out his arms.

  Billy sat down and swung his legs out just like Nick had. He tried to push himself off, but he was scared.

  “Billy. Come on. You have to.” Nick whispered. Billy kept lunging forward, but not jumping. Out of the corner of his eye Nick saw movement coming out onto the porch next to him.

  “Jump now Billy!” Nick yelled as he pulled his weapon. He was only a fraction of a second faster than the other man who was also pulling a weapon. A hole appeared in the center of his chest. A red dot appears and spreads out on his white shirt. Billy dropped down next to Nick and landed on his butt too.

  “Fast! Go!” Nick yelled. He put his hand out helping Billy to his feet. They ran around the corner of the garage. They walked along the side of the building single file, Nick had his gun out and ready. Nick stopped at the corner and peeked around to the front of the house.

  The two men were still trying to get the driver’s side door open. Nick jogged up behind him. He put his hand on the back of his head and shoved his face into the side of the car as hard as he could. He felt the skull give and crack under the pressure. The other man looked up just in time to take the butt of Nick’s gun between the eyes. Nick saw the lights go out immediately. His eyes rolled back in his head and he crumpled to the ground.

  Nick pulled the keys out of his pocked and jammed them into the car door. He yanked the door and grabbed Billy by the backpack thrusting him through the door.

  “Quick, get in! Go!” Nick yelled. He looked over his shoulder and he saw movement in the truck that was up on the road. Nick threw his pack across the front seat, and jumped in.

  “They’re coming out of the front of the house!” Billy yelled. There were two men coming out of the front of the building, guns drawn. Nick started the engine and hammered down on the gas pedal. The Range Rover accelerated towards the road pelting the men coming out of the house with flying gravel.

  The Range Rover lurched as the wheels caught pavement. Nick kept the accelerator down on the floor, the vehicle rocketing up to 80 quickly. Billy turned and looked out the back window.

  The large truck was gaining on them, racing up the road. Billy could see men in the back of the truck firing their weapons at them. “Got to go faster.”

  “I’ve got it floored.” Nick said.

  “They’re gaining on us!” Billy yelled. As if on cue, bullets began pinging against the SUV.

  “Billy, grab the green bag in the back seat.” Billy unbuckled his seat belt and lunged into the back seat. He pulled the bag up into the front and opened it up. “There’s a grenade inside.”

  “A grenade?” Billy’s eyes widen.

  “Yea get it out and roll your window down. And keep your head down!”

  “You want me to do it?” Billy screamed.

  “It’s going to be okay, just do exactly wha
t I tell you.” Billy found the grenade and pulled it out of the sack. He held it very carefully as he rolled down the window. The truck was within a hundred yards and was still gaining. The wind was rushing through the Land Rover, Billy’s hair was flying around wildly.

  “Wait.” Nick said, glancing in the rear-view mirror. The back window blew out of the car. “Wait.” His eyes darting back and forth between the road and the vehicle behind them. The speedometer was pushing ninety. “Pull the pin and throw it.” He said. Billy pulled the pin and lobbed the grenade out the window. Nick watched in the mirror as the grenade bounced once, twice, three times. BOOM! The grenade went off right next to the rear passenger tire sending the truck careening across the road. It disappeared in a cloud of dust on the side of the road.

  “Holy Shit.” Billy said.

  “Hey, don’t say that. But yea, holy shit.” Nick smiled and rubbed the boy’s hair. “Good job.” Billy was beaming with pride still looking out the back window at the cloud of dust.

  6:00 AM, Monday, August 19th

  East of Tipton Iowa

  The door swung open promptly at six in the morning. Three children, two boys holding shotguns, and a young girl with blonde hair stood in the doorway. Gary, Nancy, and Robert were already up talking, Joel still slept in the corner with his head resting on a bag of manure.

  “Wake up your friend, it’s time to go.” Said the little girl.

  “Where are we going?” Asked Gary.

  “To see Samantha.” The little girl said flatly.

  “Who is Samantha?” Asked Nancy.

  “She’s in charge. And I told you to stop asking so many fucking questions. Shut the fuck up and get off your ass.” This language coming out of such a young pristine looking girl shocked Gary and the other members in the group. “Put these on.” She threw four sets of handcuffs in the dirt. They complied, all exchanging uneasy glances while cuffing themselves. “This way” The little girl said walking up the stairs in front of them. The two-armed boys slid into the corners and kept their guns on them. Gary looked over his shoulder and saw them fall in line behind them and follow up the stairs. He was impressed with their level of planning and coordination.