Dawn of the Apocalypse: A Zombie Apocalypse Novel (3 page)

            He directed us to a tall chain link fence.  Zombies were pressed up against it, some trying to climb over.  Other zombies pulled them down so they could climb up.  It was a mess, but an awful lot of them were well up the fence.  We opened fire on them, shooting them off the fence.  Other zombies pounced on the newly dead, devouring them in just minutes.

            It was horrific, and the stench was almost as bad.

            Hearing a large jet starting to take off, I glanced back in time to see Air Force One lift up into the air.  More jets full of government officials were starting to taxi out.  Were they going to leave all of the cops and soldiers behind?

            "Where's the president and everyone else going?" I asked the lieutenant.  His name tag said "Jefferson."

            "Fort Benning," he said.  "For now.  After that, I don't know.  The West Coast wasn't really hit, so maybe to LA or something."

            Fort Benning was south of Atlanta.  It was even close to my mountain cabin.  It would be easier and faster to go between Fort Benning and Blue Ridge, than DC and Blue Ridge.

            "What about us?"

            "Cops are staying to defend the city," he said.  "All of the military are heading to Fort Benning on that plane."  He pointed to a nearby Air Force jet.  "We'll be bugging out shortly."

            "What about me?"

            "Are you military?"

            "Staff Sergeant Roger Gilley," I said.  "82nd Airborne."

            He looked me over.  Okay, I was twenty-eight and four years out of the Army, but I served six years in the 82nd Airborne.  I fought in Iraq and Afghanistan.  Being an avid sportsman, I hunted, fished, played golf.  And I worked out religiously.  Yeah, I was still in combat shape.

            "Come with us," Lieutenant Jefferson said.  Someone called to him.  He left me to fight the zombies.  A moment later, "Sergeant Gilley, let's go!"

            For half a second I wondered if I should tell him that I wasn't in the Army anymore.  Yeah, that thought was gone in a flash.  We could sort that out after we land in Fort Benning.

            I followed the lieutenant to the jet.  There were other soldiers in civilian clothes, so I didn't rate a second look.  The jet loaded up quickly, and they even brought in more than we had seats for.  At least two dozen men sat in the aisle.  And that jet was moving even before they closed the hatch.

            Once we were airborne, I stared out the window.  The landscape looked like something out of a disaster movie.  Columns of smoke were everywhere.  I could see the Capital building on fire.  I noticed countless small planes in the air, and out at sea all of the boats and ships were sailing away from land.  Everyone was bugging out of DC.

            The jet veered to the west as it continued to climb higher and higher.  I watched and waited for it to turn south and toward Fort Benning.  It never happened.  Spotting an officer, I waved at him.  He worked his way back to me.

            "Sir, we're heading due west.  Shouldn't we be going south?" I asked.

            He looked grim.  "We can't.  Just before takeoff we received new orders.  Fort Benning has been hit, so we're heading for Salt Lake City."

            I just stared at him.  They were taking me away from my wife and children.  I promised to save them.  I promised to go straight to them.  Now they were on their own in a zombie apocalypse.

Chapter 4

            I ended the call with Roger and fought the need to scream.  How the hell did he get himself on a plane to Salt Lake City!

            He'd called just as I finished unloading the SUV.  The boys were down by the pond behind our property.  I was in the process of opening the shutters and getting the house in order.  There were suitcases and boxes in the small living room, and the three hunting guns were leaning against the wall next to the front door.  I had the 9mm semi-automatic pistol Roger bought me for personal protection, as well.

            The pistol was holstered on my belt at the moment.  I normally kept it in my purse, but the situation had me rattled.  Better safe than sorry.

            Glancing at the clock, I noticed it was still midmorning.  How had so much happened so fast?  In fact, it all went to hell before I could even feed the boys that morning.  So I fired up the propane stove and put a tea kettle on the burner.  There wasn't any milk, so I couldn't give them cereal.  Fortunately, they considered instant oatmeal a treat.

            Setting out two paper bowls, I dumped a packet into each.  Brown sugar and apple was their favorite.  When the tea kettle began to whistle, I turned off the stove and poured boiling water into the bowls.  After stirring, I let them set and absorb the water.

            "Timmy!  Harlan!" I called from the back door.  Their little faces turned toward me.  "Come here!  Breakfast!"

            And they came a running.  A smile spread across my face.  Some things should never change.

            After a glance at the dark smoke to the south, I turned back to putting everything up.  When I opened the coat closet, I spotted the pile of packs on the floor inside.  There were two large packs, one for Roger and one for me, and two smaller, bright red book bags for the boys.  That reminded me to put together bug-out bags.  Just in case.

            "Woo-hoo!  Oatmeal!" Timmy cried as he climbed into his chair.

            Harlan sat opposite him at the small round table.  Feelings of peace and well-being flowed through me.  What was it about my children being so happy that made me tingle?  Every time.

           
Pap.  Pap-pap-pap.

            My heart stopped.  I couldn't breathe.  The boys looked up with curious faces, too young to understand the danger.  They looked to me for answers, before more gunfire drew their eyes to the front windows.

            "Stay in the cabin," I said, rushing to close and lock the back door.  "Don't let anyone in except me."

            I grabbed the 30-30, which was my personal hunting rifle.  Opening up a box of ammo, I filled my front pockets.  After ensuring I had the keys, I locked the front door before stepping out and closing it.

            "I'll be right back," I told the boys.  "I just want to find out what is going on."

            If we were being attacked by zombies, I needed to know.  My parents didn't raise me to be the shy retiring type.  As Daddy always said, the best defense is an offense.

            Our cabin was higher than most.  In fact, there were only two others higher up the mountain than ours.  One was owned by an elderly couple from Arlington, Virginia, that I'd never met.  The other belonged to a retired military man, Sean Andrews.  A Marine.  I barely knew him.  Roger had actually gone hunting with Sean a few times.  As I recalled, he lived up there.  He got the cabin and his ex-wife got the house in Marietta in their divorce.

            I moved quickly, but cautiously down the steep street.  The road twisted and turned through the heavily wooded mountain terrain.  After a few minutes I started to regret not driving.

           
Pap.  Pap.  Pap-pap-pap.

            It sounded like pistol fire to me.

            Rounding a corner, with an overlook to the entrance to the development, I stopped and saw them.  My heart sank to see zombies.  Was there any escaping them?

            Three older men were fighting the zombies.  Two of them had pistols, and the third was using a baseball bat.  I was surprised how effective he was with that bat, too.  Apparently bashing in their brains did kill zombies, but he had to hit them many times to accomplish it.

            Dropping to my belly, I snugged the rifle butt to my shoulder and took careful aim.  Three zombies, two of which looked like teenage boys, were going after the man with the bat.  For some reason he was the one closest to the zombies.  Aiming at the center of the zombies closest to him, I squeezed off a shot.

            Blood exploded out of the back of the zombie's head.  He dropped like a rock.  So I took aim at the next, and blew his brains out.  The man killed the third, before looking back and up toward me.  I noticed it was Sean.  I recognized one of the other men as Bill Connor, a successful small business owner in Atlanta.

            More zombies came into view, rushing up the road.  The men below started shooting.  They were pretty good shots, too.  Zombies started dropping.  It was hard to not think of them as poor people, infected by a terrible virus that turned them into homicidal maniacs.

            "They aren't human anymore," I whispered, needing to hear it if I was going to continue.

            I took a deep breath, and then started shooting again.  I missed a few.  They had a bad habit of bobbing their heads when moving quickly, and their movements were frequently rather jerky.  I discovered shooting them in the heart did kill them, but if I missed the heart or head the zombies didn't even slow down.

            Scary shit.

            When the zombies stopped coming, I stood up and waited for the three men to join me.

            "How many were there?" I asked Sean.

            "About thirty, I think," he said.  "You're Jenny Gilley?  Roger's wife?"

            "Yes."

            "Is Roger okay?  Is he here?"

            "Roger is on the way.  I just spoke to him a few minutes ago," I said, afraid to admit how far away my husband was from home.  Afraid one of those men might go barbarian and claim me as his own.  "I brought the boys up, and he's meeting us here."  To change the subject, "How many families are up here?"

            "Not sure," Sean said, looking weary.  He looked back downhill.  "We need to gather everyone together and come up with a defense plan."  He looked me, then Bill, and finally the other guy dead in the eyes.  "Those infected are going to keep coming.  If we don't organize, and fast, we're all dead meat."

Chapter 5

            I sat on a cot, inside a GP Medium, outside of Salt Lake City.  There was a green wool blanket folded at the foot of the cot.  Nothing else.  I only had the clothes on my back and my phone.  I'd even forget my wallet back at the hotel.

            "What a day," I whispered.

            I was exhausted, physically and mentally.  On the trip from Washington, between calls to Jenny, I'd learned the current situation.  The US was in dire straits.  All of the states east of the Rockies were considered contaminated by the weapons of mass destruction.  Bio-agents were released in every state.  It looked like the first volley of ICBMs were aimed at the western side of the country, but were all intercepted by the missile defenses.  Unfortunately, there was either a system failure or we shot our complete load.  No one knew for sure.  That failure let the next volley hit the eastern half of the country.

            News reports on our phones showed that India and Pakistan were exchanging nukes.  So were the Russians and the Chinese.  Just about every nuclear power launched at someone.  Really, the Russians and Chinese were shooting at any and everyone.  The president had managed, so far, to keep them from shooting nukes at us.

            Zombies were running amok throughout Europe, the Middle East, and Asia.  There weren't any reports of zombies in South America or Africa.  Maybe they were spared.  Maybe there wasn't anyone left to report their apocalypses.

            Word was the US concentrated its nuclear response to the Middle East, taking out every city from Syria to Iran.  Everyone on the jet was stunned to silence for the entire trip.  We just stared incredulously at our newsfeeds.

            Upon landing, I quickly informed them there was a big mistake.  I wasn't in the military any longer.  Hell, I got out four years earlier.  I wasn't the only one in the group who was ex-military and was caught up in the fight back in DC.  But instead of letting us go, we were trucked to Camp Williams to the southwest of Salt Lake City.  More former military men soon joined us.  I learned the government was rounding up all able-bodied ex-military.

            That did not bode well for me.

            I only had one tower on my phone, so my connection was spotty at best.  I was forced to leave my tent to wander around the camp until I had two towers.  I called my wife immediately.

            "Jenny," I asked.  "Are you all right?"

            "We're fine.  When are you coming back?  I've been trying to call you."

            "Sorry, but either this area has the worst cell phone coverage in the world, or the attacks took out some of the towers," I said.  "I've been walking around trying to find a connection."

            "Where are you?"

            "Still in Salt Lake City.  I think they are going to force me back into the Army."

            "They can't do that!  You did your time," she shouted, and then started to cry.  "We need you here.  It's very scary.  Zombies have attacked us, but we killed them.  Some of the cabin owners came up here and are starting a guard force to patrol for zombies and looters.  There's a homeowners meeting tomorrow to set up our defenses or something."

            My hand tightened on the phone.  My duty was to protect my family, and the government was keeping me from them.  If anything happened to them…

            "Baby, listen, I'm going to do anything and everything in my power to avoid being impressed into service," I said.  I could feel my resolve hardening.  "I'm coming home for you and the boys.  I promise.  I will find a way."

            My phone went blank.  All of the lights in camp went off.  Running vehicles went silent as well.  Someone tried to restart his vehicle, but it wouldn't start.  There was just one vehicle with light.  It was a Tactical Operations vehicle.  I hurried over.

            "What just happened?" I demanded.