Authors: Jon Schafer
Tags: #apocalypse, #zombie, #series, #dead, #cruise, #walking dead, #undead apocalypse
Glancing at the zombies clustered on the balconies
high above him, Steve said, “How about calling it ‘The Dead Calm?’
From the looks of it, that seems appropriate.”
Chapter Three
Russellville, Arkansas:
Jedidiah Cage looked in the mirror as he adjusted the
double silver bars on his collar, still not used to the replacement
of his single First Lieutenant’s bar with the railroad tracks of a
Captain. His promotion orders had come through while he was in the
midst of rescuing civilians and trying to eradicate the walking
dead infesting the city of Little Rock. In the confusion of those
dark days, no one had passed the orders on to his commanding
officer, so it was only recently he'd learned of his promotion.
Cage had been in one of the first units of the
Arkansas National Guard called up after the HWNW virus reared its
ugly head at a hospital in Little Rock. From there, it spread
throughout the city, the nation and the world. Only a few people
knew the actual cause of the disease, and in the carnage and terror
that spread in its wake, most of those were either killed or turned
into the walking dead themselves. Besides a small number of doctors
and scientists who were transported to a research center set up in
Russellville, along with Cage who had been ordered to report to the
facility to provide security, there were few people still alive who
knew the beginnings of the virus.
When Cage and his unit were called up after the
Governor of Arkansas declared martial law to keep order, Jedidiah's
first posting was to provide security for the hospital where the
HWNW virus had developed. Present at post-hurricane Katrina ravaged
New Orleans, and having served in Afghanistan, he thought he was
prepared for anything.
He was wrong.
Driving up to the hospital in his Humvee with a
platoon of men accompanying him in two trucks, he was amazed to see
sandbagged bunkers flanking the entrance to the emergency room.
Manned by police officers carrying automatic weapons, the
checkpoint created a choke point for anyone trying to get aid. The
parking lot overflowed with hundreds of injured people, the wounded
either sitting or laying, thrashing in agony, bleeding and vomiting
onto the asphalt as two doctors moved among them. They were
escorted by a Little Rock police officer that stood watching while
the medics marked the wounded on the forehead with grease pencil to
show the order in which they would be treated. Once triaged, the
injured were then stripped of all their clothing by two orderlies
who examined them from head to toe before allowing them to be
admitted past the guards at the emergency room door.
After parking his Humvee on a grass strip near the
entrance, Cage started to collect his gear for the walk to the
emergency room. Looking up when movement out of the corner of his
eye caught his attention, he saw one of the physicians who had been
examining a man lying on the asphalt suddenly back away from his
patient as the man started going into convulsions. The police
officer that accompanied the doctor drew his pistol and stood close
by as seizures racked the prone man's body. People crowded the
scene blocking his view, so Cage exited his vehicle and walked over
to find out what was going on.
Seeing Cage's National Guard uniform, the cop looked
relieved and said, “Thank God you all finally showed up. This is a
fucking nightmare. We've only got maybe six guys left. Everyone
else is out on road patrol trying to keep things under control.
We've got looting all over the city and these things keep popping
up.” Pointing with his gun barrel at the man now laying motionless
on the ground, the cop added, “You have to shoot them in the brain
when they come back. Or hit them with a taser. The electrical shock
takes them out.”
Cage didn't understand what the officer was talking
about. Before he could ask for an explanation though, the man on
the ground twitched a few times and then jerkily rolled over onto
his hands and knees before rising unsteadily to his feet. Jedidiah
got a good look at his face as revulsion and fear battled for
control of his emotions.
Tinged with a grayish-green skin color, and with its
mouth pulled back in a snarl, the newly dead man's eyes stared in
hunger at the crowd around him as saliva began to roll down his
chin. Blood, mixed with a thick, black substance, leaked from what
looked like a bite wound on his chest. A few people screamed and
ran away but most just backed up and continued to watch the
show.
The Little Rock cop said, “You have to wait until
you're sure they're dead before you kill them.”
This contradiction was lost on Cage as he watched the
cop take two steps forward, raise his pistol to aim it point-blank
at the man's forehead and pull the trigger.
Chunks of skull, brains and a fine spray of black
puss mixed with a small amount of blood flew from the back of the
man's head to land on some of the onlookers. More screams, this
time of disgust, met this volley of gore.
“Fucking rubberneckers,” the cop said, “Serves them
right. They're one of the reasons why we have to wait so long to
shoot the ones who turn. Too many people complained about us
shooting people who might still be alive, so now we got the ACLU on
our ass about civil rights.”
“What in the fuck is going on here?” Cage asked in
amazement.
“You don't know?” The cop replied. Seeing the puzzled
look on Cage's face, he explained, “Some guy had a disease of some
kind. Something called Prader-Will or Willi-Prader or Darth Vader
or something. It gave him an insatiable appetite for food. Guy got
into an accident and had a head injury. Word is, the hospital
treated him with the wrong medicine or some shit, and his disease
mutated into this virus. If you're infected, you get an appetite
for a new kind of meat. Us.”
“What virus?” Cage asked.
They're calling it the HWNW virus. What it does is it
kills your ass off and you're dead, but then you get back up and
try to eat people.”
“Eat people?” Cage said with disbelief in his
voice.
“Yeah, and that's how the virus gets spread too. It's
transmitted by the bites.”
Cage learned more details of how the virus came about
by talking with hospital staff. They also warned him that any
contact with infected body fluids on an open wound would transmit
the disease also. By then it was too late for those already sprayed
by the blood, puss or the saliva of the walking dead though.
In the first days after their arrival, his platoon of
forty-two took heavy losses as they learned how to deal with the
virus and those it infected. By the time they finally set up a
system to keep themselves safe, the hospital was abandoned due to
the attrition of its medical staff. Cage and his remaining
twenty-nine men were reassigned to rescuing civilians trapped in
their homes by the dead that had multiplied beyond anyone's
imagination and now wandered freely through the streets of Little
Rock. Eventually, there were no more living human beings left in
the city, and the Guard was ordered to pull out. The once thriving
metropolis gained the designation that was being given to all
abandoned population centers. It was now referred to as a Dead
City. Cage and his remaining twenty men were then sent to a newly
constructed research facility outside of Russellville.
Checking his appearance again in the full length
mirror hung on the back of the door of his cramped trailer, Cage
decided he was sufficiently squared away to proceed with his daily
duties. As he stepped out into the cool Arkansas afternoon, his
eyes jumped to the fence that encircled the compound. He visually
checked the wire ties holding the electrified mesh to the
reinforced, eight foot high, chain link enclosure and was reassured
to hear the hum of the generator that sent a continuous charge
through the barrier.
When Cage and what was left of his unit arrived at
the research facility, the perimeter only consisted of some hastily
strung coils of razor wire. Numerous bodies of the walking dead
that had tried to breach the compound’s defenses hung limply from
this flimsy barrier. In one section, it was almost flattened by
their weight.
Cage saw a Major coming toward him, and after
exchanging salutes the officer informed him that he and his men
were needed for body disposal duty. They were to draw rubber gloves
from the medical building and pull the bodies of the dead from the
razor wire. Another detail would be coming behind them to shore up
the weak spots.
“Where’s the medical building and what should we do
with the bodies, sir,” Cage asked.
Looking at him quizzically, the Major said, “I don't
recognize you. Are you new here?”
Cage snapped to attention and rapped out, “First
Lieutenant Jedidiah Cage reporting for duty with-.”
The Major waved the rest off. “You're one of the
Little Rock crew that just arrived, aren't you?”
“Yes, sir,” Cage answered.
The Major frowned, “I heard it was bad there.”
“Pretty bad, sir,” Cage replied.
The Major thought about this for a moment before
saying, “I know you just got in, Lieutenant and that you all just
pulled out of Little Rock, but I need you and your men on disposal
duty. I'm shorthanded right now.”
“Yes, sir,” Cage replied. “My men and I can do the
job.”
“We've got to maintain the integrity of the fence or
we're totally screwed. The Army promised us an electric fence, but
who knows when that'll show up. So far the Z's are only coming at
us in groups of four or five, so we've been able to deal with the
assaults by engaging them with pistol fire once they get hung up on
the fence. If that changes, your rifles will be needed to help
defend the perimeter.” Pointing to a three-story farmhouse, which
was the only permanent structure in the compound, the Major said,
“That's the research facility. Go and ask one of Professor Hawkins’
people to give you some gloves.”
“Yes, sir,” Cage replied and said, “If I may ask sir,
what are they researching?”
The Major broke eye contact and replied, “They’re
working on finding a cure for the HWNW virus.” After a pause he
added, “Among other things.”
Cage nodded, not commenting on the Major’s uneasiness
at the question. “And the bodies of the dead?” He asked.
“Drag them downwind and burn them. You'll find diesel
fuel at the motor pool.”
“I do need to report in and let the C.O. know I’m
here, sir,” Cage said.
“You already did,” The officer replied. “I’m Major
Conway. I’m the ringmaster of this circus. When you're done with
the bodies, get cleaned up and get you and your men something to
eat. When you're done with chow, come and find me, and I’ll give
you a full briefing on our position here. That'll also give me some
time to find a place for you and your men to be quartered.”
Since that day, Cage found himself working closely
with Major Conway in building up the facility and its defenses. He
met twice with Doctor Lionel Hawkins, the head of research into the
HWNW virus, but found the man distant and aloof. Cage was left with
an uneasy feeling after both meetings and wasn't looking forward to
a third.
It was a relief when, a week after he and his men
took over security for the medical building, a platoon of regular
Army soldiers arrived and relieved them of this duty. Since then,
Cage had little contact with the people at the farmhouse. After
finding out the duties of this new platoon, he was quite happy to
keep it that way. Besides providing security, the regular Army unit
was also charged with acquiring specimens for Doctor Hawkins and
his staff to study.
Once a week they went into the nearby town where the
zombies congregated in large numbers and brought back ten or more
of the living dead. Although Cage and his men regularly went into
Russellville on scrounging missions, they tried to avoid the dead,
while the Army unit sought them out.
One afternoon at lunch, Cage was sharing a table with
Major Conway when he overheard the Lieutenant who commanded the
Army unit explaining to another officer the process of how they
trapped and brought the dead back to the base.
With bright, excited eyes, the Lieutenant said, “We
take three of those four-by-four trucks with the big lift kits on
them that make them sit up high, and we cruise real slow-like
through the streets of town. In no time at all we got a whole slew
of them things following us. We speed up a little so that the most
beat up ones fallout and we only got the most intact ones staying
with us. When we got about two or three of the best ones ahead of
the rest of the herd, we stop. Six of our guys are in the bed of
each of the pickups, but they sit so high up that them dead things
can't reach them. Two of my guys are ropers and hang off each side
of the pickup. They just drop a noose over the head of one of them
and pull it up. Each roper has two handlers. When the roper hauls
the Z up near the rail, the handlers throw a hood over its head and
shackle its arms and legs. By this time, the other dead have caught
up to them, so they drive off a ways and move the dead to the
transport truck. Doc Hawkins tells us how many he needs, and when
we fill our quota, we head back here.”
“Where do they keep the Z’s,” Cage asked. He was
curious, since he had never seen any detention area for the walking
dead at the facility.
Now that he had a larger audience, the Second
Lieutenant sat up straighter in his seat and said with pride in his
voice, “We just pull up behind the farmhouse and throw them down
the old coal chute that drops into the basement. We got it all set
up slick as shit, and we’ve only taken two casualties since we
started.”
Hearing this, Cage quickly put the basement of the
farmhouse on the list of places he never ever wanted to fucking
visit.