When the Future Ended (The Zombie Terror War Series Book 1)

by David Spell

  Candice expected some push back but all she heard was, “You’re right. I’m guilty of all that and I’m sorry. I’ve got some things to tell you, too. And I won’t argue with you. I know once you’ve made your mind up that’s the way it is.”

  Marshall made sure that he was early to the Starbucks on Friday afternoon, ordering for both of them. Candice had told him she would come there straight from her office. When she walked in, he stood and waved. She was just as beautiful now as when they had gotten married eleven years earlier. She was tall, full-figured, with cocoa colored skin. Her hair was pulled back and the diamond necklace that he had given her for their tenth anniversary sparkled around her neck.

  Eddie wanted so badly to reach out and take her in his arms but he had to play it cool. If he had any chance at all of winning this woman back, he couldn’t push her away in the first five minutes.

  “Hi, Candice. You look beautiful, as usual,” he smiled.

  “Thanks, Eddie,” she said, seating herself across from him and sipping her drink. “Thanks for ordering for me.”

  After a couple of minutes of uncomfortable small talk, Candice was clearly ready to get down to business.

  “You first,” she said. “You told me you had something to tell me.”

  The former linebacker-turned-Chicago-police-officer-turned-federal-marshal didn’t get nervous about much, but he sure felt butterflies fluttering around in his stomach as he stared at the woman he loved. The only way he knew to deal with fear, though, was to punch it in the face.

  “I’m turning in my resignation on Monday.”

  Candice had expected Eddie to promise to change, to beg for forgiveness, maybe even agree to go to marriage counseling. This wasn’t even on the radar of what she had thought she might hear.

  Marshall watched his wife’s mouth drop open and her eyes get big.

  He continued talking, hoping to take advantage of the surprise factor. “I’ve been offered a position at a new federal agency. I’ll be moving to Atlanta and I was hoping you might consider going with me. I know I’ve been…”

  “No, no, no,” Candice said, putting a hand to her forehead, leaning back, and shaking her head.

  This was definitely not the response that Eddie was looking for, so he paused, waiting for her to say something else.

  “You talked to Kirby, didn’t you?” Her eyes bored into him with anger.

  “Kirby? Why would I have talked to Kirby? I haven’t even seen him since I threatened, I mean since I spoke with him after he asked you out.”

  Kirby was Candice’s boss. He’d made a pass at her right after she had started working there, four years earlier. Eddie had had a brief conversation with the man one day after work and since then, he had been the perfect gentleman and boss.

  “I don’t believe you, Eddie. You had to have talked to Kirby. That’s the only way you could’ve known.”

  “Known what, Baby? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Don’t call me ‘baby,’” she hissed. “How did you know about Atlanta?”

  “I told you. I was offered a job there on Wednesday, two days ago.”

  Candice shook her head, clearly still agitated. She stared into her estranged husband’s eyes, looking for an answer.

  “Are you telling me that you didn’t know I was taking a transfer to Atlanta?” she asked, continuing to watch him closely.

  Now it was Eddie’s mouth that fell open. He started to smile but that might be misconstrued. Instead, he just shook his head.

  “That’s great!” he said, cautiously. “How did that come about?”

  “There was a management position available at our branch in Georgia. It’s a big pay raise and,” she lowered her eyes, “it was going to get me away from you. I have an appointment with a divorce lawyer on Monday. I want to get it over with and start fresh in a new city.”

  That was a punch in the gut. She’s planning to file for divorce next week, he thought. You better bring out your A game, Eddie.

  “Congratulations on the promotion. You’ll be a great manager. I’m really proud of you.”

  Candice looked back up and saw the sincerity on Eddie’s face. Maybe he really didn’t know, she thought. What an odd coincidence, though. What are the odds on both of them taking new jobs in the same city on the other side of the country?

  It’s now or never, Marshall thought. “I’ve been looking online. We’ve always talked about buying a house, living in a nice neighborhood, starting a family.”

  Mrs. Marshall started to protest but Mr. Marshall held up his hand. “Please,” he said, softly. “Just let me say what I have to say.”

  Candice nodded at him and sat back.

  “The cost of living in Atlanta is so much less than Chicago. Candice, we could buy a really nice house and live in a great part of town. I was also looking at some of the fertility clinics. There are a couple of good ones in Georgia. I’d really love to get serious about having kids with you.

  “This new job that I’m taking doesn’t have much travel. That was part of the reason that I accepted the position. I want to have a family with you. Now, if your heart is set on a divorce, I won’t contest it. I won’t bother you in Atlanta. I’ll let you have the fresh start that you want.

  “But I still love you and I have to ask: Would you be willing to give me and us a second chance?”

  Eddie hoped the tears streaming down his wife’s face were a good sign. He’d given it his best shot. What was she going to say?

  Candice was silent for a long time. She finally reached across the table and grasped his massive hand.

  “Can I go home with you tonight, Baby?” she asked.

  It had taken them awhile, but they had finally conceived. At the worst possible time in history, Marshall realized, as he turned the handle on the RV door. Candice was lying on her side in the bed. Hearing him come in, she turned over to look at her husband.

  “Why did you do this to me?” she asked weakly.

  Eddie gave a slight smile. “At the time, I remember you saying, ‘Yeah, Baby, keep doing it, don’t stop!’”

  Candice shook her head, trying to suppress a grin. “If only I had something to throw at you.”

  Marshall sat down next to his wife, wrapping his strong arms around her. “I’m sorry you’re not feeling good, but I know that you’re going to be such a great mom. And this craziness isn’t going to last forever.”

  “Can we keep the RV after all the zombies go away?” she asked.

  Eddie laughed. “I don’t think so, but I’ll buy you one for Christmas. Can I get you anything?”

  “Just lie here with me for a few minutes?”

  Centers for Disease Control Compound, East of Atlanta, Thursday, 1515 hours

  Andy, Hollywood, Darrell, and Marcel sat in the guard shack, speculating about how long it was going to be before the government came out of hiding and started repairing the infrastructure. The small building had large windows on each side, allowing them to keep an eye on their surroundings. None of the agents or security officers would admit it, that although they were thankful to be in a safe location, they were also bored from the inaction of the last two months.

  Suddenly, the sound of an approaching car engine startled them to their feet. Fleming and Estrada recovered quickly, stepping out of the guard shack, rifles at the ready.

  “Marcel, could you go ask Eddie to come back over here?” Andy said, over his shoulder.

  “Yes, sir,” he replied, sprinting for the Marshall’s RV.

  A purple Oldsmobile Cutlass, with a white top, roared around the curve a hundred yards away, driving straight towards the gate of the complex, but stopping well short of the entrance. The shiny chrome spinner rims kept rotating even after the car had stopped. Andy and Hollywood could make out two occupants through the heavily tinted windows.

  Fleming raised his M4 and was about to yell for them to exit the car when the passenger door flew open and a familiar figure stepped out and threw
his hands up in the air.

  “What’s the matter?” Jimmy Jones yelled. “You got a problem with a brother driving a purple car?”

  The men inside the compound started laughing, each of them thrilled to see their teammate. “Amigo, you can drive anything you want,” Estrada yelled back. “Get your ass in here.”

  They unlocked the gate and the car quickly pulled inside. Jones jumped out and hugged both of his fellow CDC agents and Darrell, everyone trying to talk at once. A few minutes later Eddie came sprinting up, leading Marcel by twenty feet, even though the older and bigger CDC agent was wearing almost thirty pounds of equipment. Marshall grabbed his assistant team leader and close friend in a bear hug.

  “You’ve got some ‘splaining to do,” Eddie said, feigning anger. “And where did you find that car?”

  Jones laughed. “I’ll fill you in later, Boss. It’ll take a while.”

  “Man, Jimmy, you look like crap,” Andy commented with a grin. “Did you lose your razor?”

  Jimmy smiled and nodded, running a hand over the growth on his face. Jones stood six feet tall and normally weighed about a hundred and eighty pounds. Before joining the Marines, he had attended the University of Alabama on a track and field scholarship as a sprinter. He looked like he had lost twenty pounds since his friends had last seen him.

  The former Marine captain was wearing a camo National Guard field jacket over his plate carrier. A full-size M16 hung from a strap across his chest. A 9mm Beretta pistol was attached to his body armor to supplement his issued Glock 17 that he was wearing in a holster on his side.

  Jones turned and motioned for the driver of the Oldsmobile to join them. A tall, attractive young African-American woman exited the vehicle slowly and approached the men.

  Jones lowered his voice. “Grace is in a bad way. She lost her whole family; she had to kill her parents after they got infected. Then she got shot a couple of weeks ago and is still recovering.”

  The men parted and allowed Grace Cunningham into their circle. That poor girl, Eddie thought. He couldn’t even imagine what she was feeling after having to put down her own parents. The expression on the girl’s face was blank, her eyes sad. Jimmy wrapped an arm protectively around her.

  Cunningham had on heavy body armor over a University of Georgia hoodie. A much-too-large camo jacket was keeping her warm. Her police issue pistol belt held her sidearm, extra ammunition, a taser, a collapsible baton, and handcuffs. A bandolier of shotgun shells was slung over her shoulder, her pump shotgun left in the vehicle. An embroidered UGA Campus Police stocking cap was pulled low on the young woman’s head.

  Jimmy smiled at his companion and spoke gently. “Grace, I know it’s been a while since you’ve seen these three clowns so let me introduce you again. First of all, the big ugly one is Eddie, my boss. His wife is Candice and you’ll meet her later. The ugly Latino is Hollywood, and this ugly guy,” he said, pointing at Andy, “is another Marine. His wife, Amy, and his son, Tyler, are here, as well.

  “Over here, we have Darrell and Marcel. They’re part of the CDC’s security team and have the distinct pleasure of working with us.”

  Grace forced a small smile. “It’s nice to see everybody again. Where’s Chuck?”

  When no one answered, Cunningham’s eyes got big. “Not Chuck? Please tell me he’s alive!”

  Jimmy looked at Eddie, not knowing if he had heard anything from their leader while he’d been gone retrieving Grace. Marshall spoke up and shrugged. “Grace, as far as we know, Chuck’s still alive. He left a couple of months ago to find his daughter. We figured we would’ve seen him by now or heard something.”

  The young woman’s shoulders slumped, a look of resignation on her face. She had been hoping to talk to Agent McCain. Cunningham knew that he would understand what was going on inside of her.

  Grace had been there on the UGA campus that fateful day when the zombie virus had been deployed. Previous to meeting any of the CDC agents, she had witnessed the shootout that left Rebecca Johnson and the terrorist, Amir al-Razi dead. Later in the day, Jimmy had told her that Johnson had died in McCain’s arms, breaking the big man’s heart.

  Even though she had only been with the CDC officers for a few hours, she had felt Chuck’s pain. She’d seen the hurt in his eyes, even as he continued fighting and killing infected people and saving survivors. Grace felt a sense of connection with all the CDC agents who had risked their lives to rescue so many people. For some reason, she had expected McCain to be here when she and Jimmy arrived and was terribly disappointed when he wasn’t. Cunningham felt that no one could really understand the pain she was feeling except for the big CDC agent, who had also lost someone who had meant everything to him. I hope he makes it to his daughter, she thought.

  And, of course, she felt something for Jimmy. Grace had given him her phone number that day in Athens and had thoroughly enjoyed getting to know him over the phone. The zombie crisis had prevented them from seeing each other but they had talked and texted many times until the grid collapsed a month later.

  The Georgia Bureau of Investigation had commandeered an empty hangar at the Athens airport, just a little over a mile from where the virus had been deployed. Both marked and unmarked police cars, fire trucks, and ambulances, along with a contingent of news vehicles, littered the parking area around the command post. After the CDC agents’ Blackhawk had dropped her off at the CP, she and another surviving campus police officer, Jennifer Fletcher, were interviewed by the GBI and several members of the Athens-Clarke County Police Department. They were the first two officers to make it out of the center of the maelstrom whom the command staff had been able to talk to.

  After a ninety minute debriefing of what they had seen and done, Grace was finally able to step out of the hangar and return her mother’s thirteen phone calls.

  “Mama, are you and Daddy OK? Is Hope with y’all?”

  “We’re all here, but what about you? Are you alright? We’ve been watching the news and I’ve been worried. It’s been so long and you didn’t return my calls.”

  Grace heard the concern in her mom’s voice and breathed a sigh of relief. Her younger sister had been talking about trying to get tickets to the game that day. In the end, she had chosen to stay home and watch it on TV with her boyfriend, Darius.

  “I’m alright, Mama, but…I don’t even know how to describe it. People are sick and doing terrible things to each other. You guys need to leave, right now! Get in the car and get out of Athens.”

  There was a long pause on the other end of the phone. “Darlin’, I don’t think your daddy’s going anywhere. He’s been watching the news and praying all afternoon. Where are you?”

  “I’m at the airport on the other side of town. They’ve set up a base to bring survivors to and the GBI’s trying to coordinate a response. I was right in the middle of it when people started turning into zombies in the stadium. It was just the grace of God that I got out of there alive.”

  “Oh, Darlin’, I’m so sorry!” Mrs. Cunningham exclaimed. “When are you coming home?”

  “I don’t know. There are just a few of us from the campus police department left. I think…,” the emotion suddenly bursting inside the young officer, “I think most of our department is gone, Mama. I think Jennifer and I are the only two who made it out. Can I talk to Daddy?”

  A few minutes later, Mrs. Cunningham came back to the phone. “I can’t find your father, Grace. Hope said he was going to walk Darius out to his car but he hasn’t come back in.”

  Grace remembered the feeling of fear when her mother had told her that. “Mama, he can’t be outside! Those things are everywhere!”

  Later in the evening, the officer had managed to get her father on the phone. He was unharmed, and Grace begged her father to get out of the city.

  “Grace, you know I can’t do that. I’m a pastor and people are depending on me. What kind of minister would I be if I ran away?”

  “A living one,” Grace said, quietly. “Dadd
y, the zombies will get to your neighborhood. There’s no way to stop them. I was there. I saw it. There are thousands of them. Please, Daddy, pack up Mama and Hope and go somewhere safe.”

  “What about you, Sweetheart, are you going somewhere safe?”

  “Daddy, I’m a police officer. This is what I do.”

  “And I’m a pastor. This is what I do.”

  The younger Cunningham knew then that the elder Cunningham’s mind was made up. Reverend Samuel Cunningham had been the leader of the Athens AME Church for over twenty years. His congregation knew that they could come by his house or call at any time if they had a need. After that conversation, Grace never again mentioned leaving to her father.

  After fighting zombies and rescuing survivors for over eighteen hours that terrible day and into the next, Grace had collapsed into the back of a police cruiser for a nap. She finally managed to go home two days later for a brief respite. Her parent’s house was in the southern part of the city near the university’s baseball field. Circling wide and coming in from the south, Cunningham only saw a few Zs, one here, three there. Her neighborhood had thankfully been spared, but she knew that it was only a matter of time.

  For the next month, Grace joined forces with several neighboring law enforcement agencies and eventually the National Guard in trying to take back the city of Athens and the UGA campus. They were still finding people hiding in dorms, homes or businesses, but not many. It was a lost cause, Cunningham realized. She had managed to visit home twice more during that time to check on her family. The rest of her waking moments had been spent fighting and killing zombies or sleeping at the command post.

  Jimmy had called her two days after they had met and left a voicemail. She had returned his call, sitting outside against the metal wall of the aircraft hangar. They had talked for over an hour. After hanging up from another of their calls, Grace asked herself, how crazy is this? He’s fighting zombies around Atlanta. I’m fighting zombies in Athens. When we have a break, we talk on the phone, getting to know each other.