Retribution: Operation Z Book 2
Page 19
Ron swung the pistol at the window, and his hand bounced off the glass. Shit. He marshalled his strength and pivoted at the waist, driving his hand through the glass. It shattered into a million pieces and exploded outward. Shards of glass remained around the edges, and Ron cleared them away so he could force himself through the opening. Once he stood in the bed, Ron reached back inside to free the sobbing baby.
It may have been the sound of the crash, the breaking glass, or the crying child, but three zombies came to investigate. Without thinking, Ron used his pistol to take them out. This squashed the initial threat, but he heard more moans coming from further in the woods. Time to run for his life. Ron grabbed what he could and ran with the shrieking baby.
“You know what to do. Sacrifice Miracle and gain the power of the dead. She’s a millstone dragging you under the waves.” Rosie’s ghost spoke while she kept pace next to him as he raced down the shoulder of the highway. He didn’t have the energy to respond to her demands.
“The servants of Moloch will catch you and kill you both. Sacrifice the child and live. He will protect you. We’re living gods, Ronnie. Kill and eat.”
Why wouldn’t Rosie leave him alone? The group of zombies trailing after them reached double digits, and Ron’s breathing had become ragged as he continued to jog. One shouldn’t close their eyes while driving, just like one shouldn’t look backward while running forward. Ron ran too close to the edge of the highway and tumbled down the embankment and into the woods. Miracle flew from his arms as he tumbled down the hill. A rough landing knocked the wind out of the baby and paused, her incessant crying. Zombies being stupid creatures turned away from the spot where their lunch disappeared and wandered away.
Ron lay on his back at the bottom of the hill, wondering what to do next, when the phantom spoke to him again. “Miracle suffered terrible injuries from that fall. It’s your last chance to kill and eat, lover. Sacrifice her now and become the god you were always meant to be. Do it before she dies, and the power leaves.”
Tears filled his eyes because he knew Rosie was right this time. His only chance would come from Miracle’s sacrifice. There’s no way to save Miracle now, but her warm, living flesh could save him. Survival of the fittest and he would be the fittest. A god, even.
He placed the baby on a rock after he removed her clothing and prayed the secret prayer to the demon Moloch they taught him back at the camp. After the chant, he crashed the knife through her chest cavity, revealing her beating heart. Then he tore her beating heart from her tiny chest and ate. Strength filled his body, and he felt invincible. Why did he ever give up eating human flesh? It tasted like the finest meal he ever ate.
A gunshot rang out, and then another. Ron felt like someone punched him in the gut with a red hot poker. What’s happening?
“You tiz a monster, man. You don’t deserve to live. I’ll stay until you turn. It tiz the end you deserve.”
The words came from large dirty man with long curly hair. He stood over Ron, pointing a pistol at him. He held it with a relaxed grip, like he had done this many times before. What had Ron done? Not only did he kill his daughter, he gave in to the desire to eat human flesh again. His mortal wounds would doom him to an eternity of eating human flesh. Rosie stood over him with a wicked grin on her face.
“Ronnie darling, I’ll be waiting for you in Hell.”
His heart raced, but his breathing became shallow. Ron bled out. “Please…” He moaned out this last word as the world went black.
CHAPTER THIRTY
SERGEANT BRIAN HUGHES
Sergeant Brian Hughes and his men successfully completed their mission and returned to the armed compound they occupied in Manchester, Connecticut, since the rise of the dead. Over three months passed since they departed on their mission after the battle on the highway. A massacre would have been a more accurate description than a battle since it had been a one-sided affair. The Connecticut Freemen Army set the trap and the smaller invading army marched straight into the kill zone, oblivious to the danger. A few enemy combatants escaped the brunt of the surprise attack and General Wood dispatched three men teams like his to track their movements. General Wood wanted these squads to gather intelligence about where these groups of invaders originated from. Expansion of territory only came with armed combat, and the General needed to know what threats laid outside of their territory.
Their orders had been clear and Sergeant Hughes’ men followed them to a T. Observe undetected and pursue the target who ran back to their headquarters. Gain intelligence on the enemy force and then return to the camp to complete their report. Don’t engage the enemy unless there are no other options available. Sergent Huges’ team’s assignment required them to track a large greasy looking man with long unkempt hair who ran away early in the battle. He appeared to be the opposite of an effective soldier, a total coward, so Brian expected to find nothing interesting by following him. Instead, what they discovered on this mission surprised him. As they approached the gate of their camp in Manchester, a sentry called out, “Halt, who goes there?”
“It’s Sergeant Hughes, Private. Let General Wood know we’re back.”
After a quick check on the radio, the boy replied. “Sir, yes, sir.” The gate parted, allowing them entry to their home base.
Brian Hughes led the group through the gate, yearning for the days before all of this happened. Scavenging for the dwindling resources, the fighting and killing other survivors to stay alive, and struggling with the risen undead monsters. All of it weighed on him. He longed to kick back with a cold beer and watch a football game on his big screen television with his buddies. Those days were gone forever when the undead hordes rose to fight.
“Sergeant, wait here for the General.” A chubby gray-haired man with a wrinkled uniform and captain’s bars on his collar spoke. Standards had lapsed during his absence. They recruited the dregs of society for the Freemans’ Army now, it seemed.
“You two can stand down for now. I’ll debrief the General on our mission. Go grab some chow.” Brian said to his men. He ignored the fat captain’s presence since his unkempt appearance shouted contempt for the line of command. His men turned and walked away while the Sergeant sat and waited to speak with the General.
###
“The General will see you now.” Brian snubbed the flabby Captain again as he passed by him. This man’s sloppy appearance made a mockery of being a soldier, and he deserved no respect from the Sergeant. Brian had been a real soldier before the collapse and he didn’t appreciate imposters, even if the General allowed them.
The office door opened on General Wood, along with two other uniformed men Brian hadn’t seen before. A lot must have happened at the camp during their extended mission. Sergeant Hughes snapped off a salute to General Wood because he had been the Adjutant General of the Connecticut National Guard before the world went to hell. He was Brian’s boss back then, and he still respected the man.
“At ease, Sergeant. Welcome back. We had given up hope of your safe return. But I’m glad to see we were wrong.”
“Thank you, sir. We successfully carried out your orders of following our assigned target. It took us all this time to gather the required intelligence and travel back to camp.”
“Please, give us all the details. Leave nothing out.”
“The target ran off during the firefight, and we perused. He waited until the fighting finished and then returned to the scene of the highway battle. After searching the wreckage, he stopped by a wounded woman combatant. They spoke briefly, but we were too far away to hear what they said. He then pulled a knife from his belt and stabbed her through her eye socket.”
“He did this to one of his own people?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Brutal. So, what happened next?”
“The target secured a location and waited for a week and a half. I assume he waited to make sure things cooled off before escaping. Then he traveled north, hiking only a few miles each day. He stayed c
lose to the highway the entire way but traveled on the verge out of sight within the treeline.”
“Seems rather unremarkable so far. Sounds like an AWOL soldier running away.”
“Yes, sir. One day, we followed the target into a grizzly scene. He discovered a cannibal eating a baby. We wanted to intercede but remembered our orders not to unless there wasn’t a choice.”
Both of the General’s men flinched and glanced at each other while Brian told this gruesome part of the story. General Wood’s face showed no reaction to the awful scene. War was hell.
“Our subject gut shot the man and watched while he bled out and died. He then broke both of the man’s legs and left him there in woods after he turned into a zombie.”
“What did you do then?”
“We bypassed the monster and continued to follow the subject as you ordered.”
Neither of the General’s companions looked in Brian’s direction anymore and both became pale. They found the ground and spots on the wall more interesting than the story he continued to tell.
“The target continued to hike north in his same slow manner. We almost lost him once we reached Massachusetts. A horde of zombies separated us from our target, and we had to fight our way out of the sticky situation. After three days, we found the man again, still headed north along the highway.”
“He never looked for any transport.” General Wood interrupted his report again.
“No, sir, not up to this point. The target continued to hike north a few miles a day. After crossing the border into New Hampshire, the subject discovered a running farm tractor. He drove it for about a week before the tractor finally died. We commandeered a crossover utility vehicle to continue our pursuit. A week after abandoning the tractor, he reached an armed mountain compound in New Hampshire.”
“Now we’re talking, Sergeant. Tell us about this place.” The General practically salivated at this point in the story.
“They fortified the camp with a combination of armored busses and tall wooden walls topped with barbed razor wire. Armed men and women both patrolled the grounds, however, they were undisciplined and displayed no military training. Besides children, I’d estimate their numbers around 3000 strong.”
“Were they well supplied?” The General’s two men finally looked up at Brian as he reached this part of the story and they salivated. Their inspection of the floor and walls had finished.
“No one looked hungry, sir. Their weapons were all civilian models. They didn’t display any military or police discipline with their actions. Typical survival nuts, I would guess.”
“Good news. Can you locate the camp on a map?” One of the two men pulled an old auto club map of New Hampshire out of a drawer and passed it over the conference table to Brian.
“Yes, sir.” Brian unfolded the map on the table in front of him and pointed at the location of the mountain camp. The General’s two twins looked on and nodded with big smiles on their faces.
“Excellent work, Sergeant. You may take some leave now and recharge. If we have more questions, we’ll contact you. Dismissed.”
Sergeant Hughes stood and saluted, but the three men already shared in a whispered conversation and paid him no attention. He turned away and strode out of the office. Things had changed while they were gone, and he wasn’t sure the new regime changed for the better. Where else could he go, and what else would he do? Brian felt trapped and his stomach churned as he thought about the meeting with the General and his men and their plans for this camp they discovered.
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Acknowledgements
There are many people who provided support and help as I created this novel. I’m thankful for each and everyone of you, but I’d like to point out a few individuals who went above and beyond.
A special thanks to Dan J Hall for his editing, encouragement, support, and friendship. He has read all of my book mores than I have over their development.
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This is a work of fiction meaning the people and places discussed within are purely the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictional manner. Any resemblance to anyone living or dead (or living dead!) or any actual events is pure coincidence.
Copyright © 2021 G. D. Szepanski
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