Military Against Zombies (The Against Zombies Series Book 2)

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Military Against Zombies (The Against Zombies Series Book 2) Page 2

by Alathia Paris Morgan


  As the last door shut with a thud behind me, I tried to shake off the morose thoughts, but it was difficult, even though I knew we could get the cure going soon.

  “Ah, Cooper. You made it.” The secretary of defense was sitting toward the head of the table. “Were you able to get the plans out safely?”

  “Yes and no,” I answered honestly.

  “What? That is unacceptable.” The head of Operational Naval Command (ONI) spat in my direction.

  “Things were taken out of my hands when the passwords and our protocol was handed out to hired thugs. Jack had given them the plans, and everything they needed was pulled up and ready on his computer. I don’t believe that it arrived to whoever hired them because they were both attacked by the zombies and killed, sir.” I stood a little straighter and tightened my grip on the briefcase.

  “Are you certain that the information didn’t get into the wrong hands?” the secretary of defense questioned.

  “To the best of my knowledge, sir. They left our building and I saw them less than an hour later coming out of another high-profile building. They seemed to be on a fact-finding mission and didn’t have a chance to deliver it to anyone outside of the downtown area.”

  “Were you able to recover the contents of the drive they stole?” The CIA director glared at me, accusingly.

  “No, sir. The offenders were surrounded by the zombie things and were being eaten alive. I felt it best not to pursue them considering the fact that I only had one gun with ten bullets. There were close to fifteen zombies. They’re very attracted to sound, and by the time I used all of my ammo, there would have been more. They can be outrun, but it would take a track runner in very good shape, which I am not,” I replied, my tone laced with respectful sarcasm.

  “What good news can you give us about this end of the world situation?” The secretary of defense redirected the group back onto the topic at hand.

  “As of last week, we had reports from overseas about these “zombie” creations. We immediately sent over the protection protocol and began testing on subjects in the local hospitals that had been infected but were not dead yet.” Seeing I had everyone’s attention, I continued. “The blood we tested showed that this is a virus unlike any we have ever encountered before. When we added the protocol to it, the blood changed. In some of the infected, we were able to slow the process, depending on genetics and their blood type. The protocol reacted differently to those that had been infected by bite versus those who were already dead.”

  “We tested the protocol on the dead things? What kind of country have we become?” one of the men at the table muttered, just loud enough to be heard.

  I looked directly at him as I answered. “We’re the good guys who are trying to find a cure to save millions of lives. If the dead are going to attack us and try to eat our flesh, then I personally see no problem with doing whatever it takes to make them stop, whether that’s from a bullet or from the antidote. The protocol antidote had no effect on those that were already dead, so we can save ourselves the headache of trying to inject them while they’re trying to attack us. The live patients that we have tested all gave their consent to be used as guinea pigs.

  “Those who have been diagnosed with cancer or other life-threatening illnesses were given the chance to participate in a “research trial” where we gave them the protocol before they were infected by allowing a zombie to bite them. Only one in five didn’t contract the virus from the bite. Now, those who received the protocol showed that it drastically slowed down from those that didn’t receive the protocol, but they all still died. The main benefit at the moment of having the protocol is that they didn’t turn into zombies when they died.”

  A gentleman I didn’t recognize raised his hand.

  “Yes?” I acknowledged.

  “So what you’re telling us is that the protection plan you’ve been working on only saves 1 in 5 people from the virus, and of the ones took the protocol won’t turn into these things?”

  “That’s what the tests are telling us at the moment. We’ve only had about a week to put this into place and start the testing. We should have a better idea of how it’s being spread and what will stop it in the next few weeks. Until then, I’m suggesting that only those cities where an outbreak has occurred should get the protocol. The infected are our main concern because when they die, they can easily spread the virus to hundreds of people in just a few short hours.

  “The reports that I’ve received so far haven’t indicated that once they’ve eaten enough they’ll stop. I don’t believe these things have a stop feature built-in; they’ll continue to search for new victims until they’re killed.”

  “So what you’re suggesting is a kill on sight order for those infected or just the dead?”

  “I believe that we shouldn’t kill those that are still living, yet.” I smiled. “Although, we should issue warnings that if someone is feeling ill, only that person should visit a hospital or clinic. Curfews might be a better way to help control crowds, and if they’re speaking then they haven’t turned into those things yet, so there would be no reason to shoot unless they felt threatened.

  “We’re fielding calls from all over about hospitals filled with people who might be sick. The police in most major cities have been busy responding to “sightings” that have turned into nothing. I recommend that we impose martial law.”

  Another gentleman interrupted. “That hasn’t been done on a national level since the Civil War, and even that was limited. The president isn’t ready to go to those extreme measures at this time. This sickness hasn’t affected all the major cities yet, and most people don’t even know what’s going on because we’ve stopped all outgoing news from those areas.”

  “That doesn’t solve our problems, it just causes more because people don’t know how to deal with those things, and we could lose a lot of innocent people.”

  “We’ve sent out a special report of a virus, but not the extent of what it does. Our troops overseas have come in contact with hordes of these things due to an infection sweeping villages and whole towns. They’ve been told to evacuate and are in the process of doing so now. We’re going to need them to maintain order if this gets as bad as expected.”

  “How soon will they arrive?” I asked, unsure if this decision was wise.

  “The removal of troops is only in remote locations at the moment. If we have a base, our troops will be staying there so that we don’t lose all of our assets in case this proves to only be a scare,” the secretary of defense explained.

  “So the outposts farther out and all small missions have been canceled until this runs its course. Our troops could be overrun without the fortifications of a base. Evacuations have been going on since we got word, and Landstuhl is trying our special serum. All troops that have been closest to the start of this infection are being given the serum. If there are no signs of infection after twenty-four hours, we’re flying them home. It’ll take about a week to a week and a half to get even some of them home, but by then, we should know how other countries are faring against this outbreak,” I patiently advised.

  “Is bringing our troops home really necessary? We’ll lose so much of the ground we’ve gained overseas, all because of a little flu virus. It seems like an unnecessary waste of resources to me,” the Army’s chief of staff questioned.

  “Duly noted, General, but this virus has already taken out entire parts of Africa, India, and the Middle East. They’re under a blackout and the troops we’ve been able to maintain contact with have had to evacuate quickly due to running short of ammunition and supplies. These things multiply exponentially. A single bite can cause an entire family to be overtaken, and housing is not limited to a four or five person unit in most cases. We’re talking overnight, one victim can attack or spread the disease while everyone is sleeping, and in the morning, you have an army of dead chasing you.” I paused to look at each of the men seated at the table.

  �
�The evacuation and serum are only a stopgap once this really hits the U.S. The protection plan is being tested as well, and we should have the results soon,” the CIA director tried to reassure everyone.

  “How do we know that your plan will work verses the serum that can be given to those in hospitals?” The CDC liaison tried to push his agenda, subtly.

  “The serum can help prevent infection of the healthy, but the plan, if it works, would kill or stop the zombies completely, to never rise again,” I explained, without giving away what exactly would happen.

  “Can we just use a mist or spray to get the serum to more people? Then we wouldn’t even need this protection plan that we don’t even know will work,” someone from the back of the room argued.

  “Honestly, if we have enough of the serum made, that would work, but there’s no way to mass produce this as quickly as it will be needed.”

  “What if we just targeted highly populated areas?”

  “At the moment, it only saves about one-fifth of the population and could cause a mutation that we’re not ready for, making things worse.”

  “So what you’re really saying is that we’re no closer to a solution than we were an hour ago?”

  I chuckled. “Not exactly. We do have a few solutions and are taking precautions in each city. The mayors and governors are working together in most cases to make sure that they’re ready for the worse case scenarios.”

  “In other words, they have escape plans in place to save their own asses.” The head of defense shook his head at the entire situation.

  “We’ll reconvene in the morning and see where we stand. Let’s check in with our people and see what we can make happen. Dismissed,” the secretary of defense declared.

  I nodded and headed back through the long bunker, eager for a breath of fresh air and to check in with my family.

  Linc Harris

  When I saw the truck pulling into the driveway, I breathed a sigh of relief. They had made it home safely. There was no way I was going to raise six children, four of whom I’d only met recently. My mom had done a great job of helping me watch all of them the past few hours, but I knew what was going on out there in the world. I wanted my attention focused on keeping us safe.

  I’d taken this assignment because I’d known Cooper, the kid’s dad, back during his training days with the CIA. My unit had worked with him on a few missions overseas, and even though it had been quite a few years since I’d heard from him, when he made such an unusual request, I couldn’t say no. I’d only been “retired” for three months, but was going stir crazy trying to find something that would keep my interest. It didn’t hurt that it would put me closer to where my mom lived either.

  Fifteen years in the service had kept me fit, but I’d found that working on the farm worked out different muscles than military life, especially my patience. Jessica’s husband had just left when I took the job, and I knew when I saw her that she was the one. Problem was that I had wrongly assumed she would be open to a relationship; her ex left her very mistrustful of men. So, while farming wasn’t my specialty yet, I’d hoped the learning curve wouldn’t be that difficult until she fell for my charms.

  Jessica was smiling at something Tracy said as she got out of the truck. Her smile was always a distraction, but I managed to focus my attention back to reality just as they saw me.

  “Hey, Linc. We made it back.” Tracy waved, heading in my direction.

  “You’re never going to believe the stuff that happened to us in just the last few hours.” Jessica tucked a gun into the back of her jeans and pulled her shirt down over it.

  “I’m guessing you ran into trouble?” I nodded my head toward the gun. “I’ve never seen you packing before.”

  “Linc, I think all the adults need to start carrying a gun because those things are multiplying, and the only thing that will stop them are bullets.” Jessica’s smile disappeared.

  “It’s not only the zombies that we have to worry about, it’s the people who are going to take advantage of the situation,” Tracy added. “It’s not pretty out there.”

  The kids, who had been watching for their mothers to return from their supply run, spotted the truck and were running toward us, so I decided to wait to find out more information.

  Somehow, Cooper had known something was brewing and had this backup plan setup. They were supposed to drop Cooper off at the airfield, and then pick a few supplies, but it sounded like the shit had hit the fan a little earlier than Cooper had anticipated.

  “Mom, you’re okay.” Nicole hugged Tracy as the children mobbed the ladies.

  I waited until they’d all been reassured before interrupting. “Drew, can I get you and Carson to come help me unload the supplies that your moms brought back?”

  “Yeah, sure,” nine-year-old Drew answered, taking the keys from his mom and opening the truck door.

  “Jessica, why don’t you take everyone inside so we can get this done a little easier?” I asked as two-year-old Trevor took off running after a chicken.

  “Roxanne and I will help too,” Jessica volunteered, taking the keys back from Drew with a shake of her head.

  “Tracy, go ahead. It won’t take the four of us very long.” She moved to open the barn doors farther apart so that she could back the truck inside.

  I held back for just a minute to watch Jessica’s ass as it moved so nicely in those jeans. “Uh, Jessica? I think you have something on your butt.” I moved closer and lowered my voice so the kids wouldn’t overhear. “You’ve got some blood on your pants.”

  “Crap!” Jessica exclaimed, starting to unbutton her plaid shirt.

  “Whoa! Hold on,” I said. “It’s on your pants, not on your shirt. Not that I mind you taking off your shirt.”

  Jessica ignored my pointed comment and continued to pull her shirt off, revealing a tank top. “I know, but my shirt will keep the blood and the gun covered until I can go in and get changed.”

  “Wait, how did you know it was blood?” Jessica looked at me suspiciously.

  “Military training, remember? I’ve seen enough blood to know what it is, and that it isn’t yours.”

  Relief flooded Jessica’s face as she realized I was on her side.

  “Are you okay?” I asked, since she had never questioned me like that before.

  “Uh, yeah. It’s just been a long day.” She brushed a strand of hair back, trying to get it into her ponytail.

  “Where do you want…” Carson’s voice trailed off. “Whoa! Are all these crates full of guns, Aunt Jessica?”

  “Yes, honey. Those zombie things can only be stopped by bullets, and since I didn’t have lots of them stocked up, that’s what your mom and I were doing. I think we should be good for a while now.” Jessica calmly walked over and placed the lid back on the crate. “I want both of you boys to promise me that you won’t play around with these, or even be in the barn while they’re stored here.”

  Jessica pinned them both with her motherly stare until they answered, “Yes, ma’am,” with great reluctance.

  I held back a chuckle because she was right, but I would have agreed to anything if I’d been under that stare as well.

  “Let’s stack them up in this empty stall, and then we can put a few hay bales around it so it doesn’t look like we have a gun pile just lying around. We’ll be able to see if someone moves things around too,” I suggested, looking pointedly at the two boys.

  The household items and a case of ammo for the guns we already had were set aside to be taken into the house.

  “Thanks for your help, boys. Carson, can you drive the truck up to the house and make sure those get inside?” Eyes wide, Carson shook his head yes. He didn’t wait for me to change my mind.

  “Tracy will help make sure the dangerous stuff is put up properly,” I reassured Jessica. “I need to talk to your mom for just a minute, though, so head on over.” I waited until they were both out of sight before I pulled Jessica
into my arms.

  “What are you doing, Linc?” Jessica squeaked in surprise.

  “Not waiting until it’s too late to tell you that I like you. I’ve thought about the fact that you might’ve died out there today, and so far, all we’ve done is some serious flirting. I want to take this flirting to the next level. What do you say?”

  Jessica surprised me when she snuggled into my arms. “I was wondering how long it would take you to actually make a move on me.”

  As she tilted her face up toward me with a smile, I didn’t hesitate or give her a chance to protest as I laid my lips on hers and laced my fingers through her hair.

  She moaned and opened her mouth just enough for me to take possession of it.

  “Ew, yuck! Mom!” Roxanne stood in the doorway with a horrified look on her face. I quickly released Jessica, and we both turned to face her daughter.

  “If you two want to do it with each other, just get a room, or better yet, just don’t.” Roxanne turned and walked back toward the house, rubbing her eyes and mumbling, “I can’t believe I caught my mom making out. Gross! My eyes just can’t erase that.”

  Jessica started to giggle, and then laughed until tears started running down her face.

  Feeling uncomfortable, I took her by the arm and led her over to a bale of hay to sit down on, then I took a seat next to her.

  Wiping away the tears, she straightened with a look of regret.

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have taken advantage of you that way. I—”

  “I’m so glad you did,” she interjected, cutting me off. “It’s just…well, getting caught by my almost teenager.” She grinned. “I always thought it would be me keeping her from going too far. This whole day has just been surreal. I should be so excited that you like me, but all I can see are the guts hanging out of those things’ mouths before I shot them.”

  Jessica gave a shudder. “I think I’ll be fine, but I need to unwind and process everything for a little bit. Is that okay?” She turned toward me with a tearstained face, and all I could think was, ‘how long did she expect me to wait when she kept giving me looks like that?’

 

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