Forest Park: A Zombie Novel (12 page)

Paul Herbert thanked his lucky stars it was Tanya who was climbing his ladder to success earlier that morning, otherwise --- hell, he didn’t want to think about it. Paul suddenly felt his cell vibrate in his pocket.

“Hello… Susan.”

A broad smile crossed his face. “Yes, indeed; it was fantastic work and very suspenseful --- everyone here was on the edge of their seats. Who was the guy driving the Humvee, Susan?”

Susan answered. He nodded.

“A captain, no less --- lucky you.”

Somebody sneezed in the control booth.

“Fort Gillem? You do land on your feet, don’t you? The rumor is that Fort Gillem’s being reopened due to some old action plan.” Paul then paused as Susan spoke.

“I don’t know, probably some bullshit from the fifties? Nevertheless, we need conformation, at the moment, it’s only rumor. As soon as you know for sure, you’re on the air.”

“Paul, Atkins is ready!”

“Sorry, Susan, I have to go. Roll him, Andy.”

Susan protested.

Paul chuckled as he answered her. “Of course, if you were here you’d be in the anchor’s chair, Susan. You were my first choice, not Tanya. You’ll always be number one.”

That should shut her up.

He pressed the end call button with his thumb and put the cell back in his pocket.

It began to vibrate immediately.

FOREST PARK

Susan scowled at her cell.

“Fucking prick won’t answer --- ass hole!” Susan said as she turned her head and saw dark smoke plumes beginning to rise into the sky above Atlanta, while she and Charlie raced behind the Humvee.

There’s nothing like a crisis to bring out the bad driving in some people, Susan thought as they dodged another car, which appeared out of nowhere.

The streets were in sudden chaos.

Wow, it abruptly hit her; this is all happening so fast.

“Charlie, why wasn’t it this chaotic an hour ago?” asked Susan.

She was attempting to put Paul behind her as Charlie dodged a delivery van.

It was difficult though, and too hard for her to drop so easily.

I could have been the anchor… Global.

“I don’t know? Maybe everyone had to awaken for the shit to hit the fan?” Charlie said as he swung the Wolfpac around another corner.

Man she handles well; he was referring to the Wolfpac. If only we were racing through the streets of San Francisco! Charlie thought.

Steve McQueen style!

“I don’t get it, though,” Susan said.

“It’s the difference between big cities and smaller country towns, I think,” Charlie said as he swerved over yet again into the other lane.

“Atlanta is a 24/7 city, night and day. People would have been out partying, working --- whatever --- when everything started. Country towns are different. People go to bed and wake up. However, it appears like some people have woken up feeling not so well.”

Susan considered what Charlie was saying. “What do you think was wrong with the guy back there, at the diner?” she asked.

A smile traversed Charlie’s face as he realized that finally, for once, they were having a real conversation.

“I don’t know, but I know he wasn’t all sunshine and lollipops in the head,” Charlie said.

“He looked dead, Charlie, and that butcher’s knife in his back wasn’t great advertising for acupuncture,” Susan said.

Charlie laughed. “Yeah he looked dead or at least looked pretty sick. I don’t know. I’m not sure what to think.”

“A knife was sticking out from his back, Charlie, just think about it for a second.”

Susan saw the Humvee take another corner and then disappear, but to her surprise, the Wolfpac was beginning to slow.

“What are you doing?” Susan asked.

“She looks like she needs help,” Charlie said as they rolled to a stop.

Susan leaned forward, past Charlie’s belly, and looked out from the driver’s side window.

A woman with a gash on her forehead was running toward them.

Blood was streaming down the side of her face and onto her nightgown.

Susan couldn’t hear what she was saying, but she could read lips --- as well as anyone who knows when someone is yelling the obvious.

Help me!

“She needs help, Susan. We have to help,” Charlie said as he motioned to open his door.

“Charlie, we don’t have to do a goddamn thing other than follow the guy in the Humvee.”

“We can’t just leave her,” he argued.

In the background, Susan could see more people coming, and they didn’t look normal.

“See, Charlie, those people are coming to help her now,” Susan lied, or thought she did.

“Yeah, but what if ---”

“No ifs and no buts,” Susan said.

Charlie began to roll forward.

“What if those guys are…” He didn’t finish his train of thought, but they both knew what he was about to say.

As he sped away, Charlie glanced in the rear-view mirror and saw a man tackle the woman to the ground.

There was nothing he could do now.

THE POLICE CHIEF

“Do not leave your home to aid relatives or friends. I strongly advise residents to stay off the streets and allow the police, fire department and paramedics to do their jobs,” Atkins said from his side of a split screen partition.

Behind Atkins, in the background, were the state flag of Georgia and an autographed photograph of Johnny Cash. The man in black was holding his guitar by the neck and looking real damn serious.

“Are there any theories about the people involved in the attacks throughout Atlanta and across the country that you adhere to?” Tanya asked.

“I do believe that the poor souls who are committing these attacks are suffering from some kind of mental breakdown. However, I did hear some time earlier, that all this lunacy and violence had something to do with sunspots; but I’m no scientist. I believe in the law, as I believe in the Gospels. And these people are breaking the law.”

“Here’s another question from our Twitter wall, Chief Atkins. With the crash of the 911 emergency lines, how can the public still contact the emergency services?” Tanya asked.

“In regard to the problems around 911, we hope to have that situation under control sooner than later. Otherwise, people can contact the police department using Twitter, just as someone did now with you guys, or they can leave a message on our Facebook page. We will also be providing updates using Twitter and Facebook, so I would recommend people keep an eye on both sites.”

“Can people sign up for automatic updates?”

“I would recommend that people do all they can to keep themselves informed.”

“One of the most spectacular rumors that was broadcast this morning via Twitter, Facebook and Youtube, are that some of these attackers appear deceased. In fact, we have shown footage this morning from here in Atlanta, which shows a man being shot multiple times without being killed. Do you have any explanation for this?”

“PCP.”

“So you don’t believe in the possibility that these people are deceased? That particular rumor has been running wild over the Twitterverse.”

“As a practicing Christian, all I can say about that particular rumor, is that it’s totally ridiculous. Some of these people have a serious mental illness, while others are obviously influenced by drugs. Dead people do not stand up and walk from one place to another after death, Tanya. It’s just plain ridiculous.”

“But on a serious note,” Atkins continued, “I’d like to make clear that people who are found attacking other citizens or taking the law into their own hands will be prosecuted. We have at this time, arrested several citizens for firearm offenses. Any firearm used openly on the streets will be confiscated and the user arrested. This behavior is not tolerated in any way whatsoever. I hope I have made myself perfectly clear.”

“Surely people can still use their guns to protect themselves and property?” said Tanya.

“I have no issue with the legal use of firearms. Nevertheless, coldly shooting unarmed and mentally diminished people does in no way equal an accurate definition of the legal use of a firearm. At this instant, our cells are jam-packed with such people, and we’re making arrangements for more holding facilities throughout Atlanta and the surrounding counties, for both able-bodied and psychologically sound people, and for the mentally deranged people who have tried to take over our streets.”

“So am I right to say that people can carry firearms?” Tanya asked.

Atkins furrowed his brow and leaned into the camera and said, “It’s very simple, Tanya; an illegal killing is an unlawful killing, no matter the circumstance or the crisis. When Hurricane Katrina destroyed New Orleans, the majority of people didn’t run out on the streets and begin shooting their neighbors for kicks. The situation will be under control as soon as humanly possible, and everybody involved in unjustified killings will be going to jail for a very long time.”

Tanya smiled and said, “Our next question is an SMS from...”

THE LIVING ROOM

Steve turned the volume down.

“What’s wrong?”

“Everything, babe. What’s right, that’s the million-dollar question this morning,” Steve said as he took Kathy’s hand and held it with a firm grip. “We’ve been awake two hours or so, possibly more.”

“It feels like a month,” Kathy answered him.

Steve waited for a moment to unclutter his scattered mind. He had an idea of what he’d wished to say to Kathy, but trying to place his current train of thought into viable sentences was more difficult than he usually found --- especially today.

“I’m no expert,” he tentatively began, “and I am no historian, but I’m pretty sure that what’s happening today hasn’t happened before.”

Kathy nodded in full agreement.

“I would also like to add that I’ve never seen anyone die, until today. And when I say die, I mean they died right in front of my eyes.”

Steve shook his head back and forth.

Trying to find the precise words was like attempting to pull hen’s teeth.

“I’ve never even seen a corpse before today started either. However, I saw a corpse stand up on its own two dead feet, and stroll across our street and then knock at our door.”

“It does appear to look that way,” Kathy said, her own thought processes slightly rattled.

“What dimension did I wake up in today? You know what I’m saying, Kath?”

“Yeah, I’m asking the same question.”

“And now some Christian Pat Garret wannabe on television says that they’re not dead people at all. Deceased people don’t walk around he says. It’s people who overnight may have gone deranged! As if that’s not strange enough!”

“People like to put difficult things into boxes,” Kathy said.

“I’d prefer a coffin,” Steve answered her, and then chuckled to himself.

“That’s not funny,” Kathy said.

“I know.”

“Anyway your point is what, Steve?”

Steve became serious again. “My point is this. Nobody has any idea about what’s really happening out there.” He pointed to the street. “And if they do know, they don’t want to tell us --- the public --- the truth because they think we couldn’t fathom it, or they’re refusing to accept the truth themselves, which makes whoever is the responsible person damn stupid.”

Kathy nodded. “Have you renewed your subscription to conspiracy weekly yet?”

“So far today, I’ve seen dead people. I’ve heard police sirens, and I watched some poor woman be attacked on the morning show. Then I saw Craig, our new neighbor from across the street, bite into another man’s neck and seemingly enjoy it, which I severely doubt is his regular thing, at least on a weekday. My point is, Kathy, nobody can help us. So we have to help ourselves, and one way to do that is to settle down for the long haul.”

“Can I add something to all that? And part of that question was rhetorical,” said Kathy.

“Until we’re all eaten, this is still a democracy,” Steve said.

“I’m happy to stay here, Steve, but if this shit continues, I would be far happier being further away from Atlanta.”

Steve had a bad feeling about what Kathy was about to say.

Even if it’s the end of the world, I’ll choose not to spend it with them, he thought, as if he had a choice...

“I would prefer we drive to Macon and stay with my sister --- they have guns, he hunts. We could all try to get through this together. Maybe we could find a place in the country, away from everyone.”

Steve sighed.

“What do you think?” she asked. “Be honest.”

“I think we wait. I think we wait and see.”

FORT GILLEM

The soldier wearily slung his weapon to his shoulder and stepped out from behind the barricade, a sandbagged wall beside two ornately designed gates, which were made more for their aesthetics, than for defense.

I have to do something about that
, thought Tyler as he waved at another soldier who lowered his M16A4 Carbine from his shoulder.

The M16A4 Carbine was a lighter, shorter barreled version of the more familiar M16 that fired its first rounds in Vietnam.

Charlie pulled in next to the Tyler’s Humvee as the captain bounded out and strode back toward the gates. From the Wolfpac’s rear-view mirror, Charlie watched as Tyler pointed in one direction and then another. Suddenly, the two previously relaxed soldiers who were casually manning the gates became increasingly more animated.

He couldn’t hear what Tyler was saying, but he was sure someone was getting torn a new asshole.

After a minute or two of chewing his men out, Tyler climbed back into his Humvee and motioned at them to follow him down the road that led to the main administration building of Fort Gillem.

“My dad would have loved to have a lawn like this,” Charlie said to Susan, who ignored the manicured lawns that were cropped to military perfection. Even so, Charlie admired the tall pines that ran in ordered straight lines, along with the garden guiding button shrubs, and flower beds that lined all the connecting pathways.

The buildings were an old world red brick, with glaring white-painted windows.