Forest Park: A Zombie Novel (26 page)

BOOK: Forest Park: A Zombie Novel
8.9Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Suddenly, there was another explosion.

This one was bigger, brighter and more devastating.

Kathy screamed as night suddenly turned as bright as the day.

A massive fireball soared into the air, the shockwave shattering the Dodge’s windscreen.

Steve and Kathy rocked in their seats as the Dodge heaved to one side and then the other.

The scorching heat was comparable to nothing either of them had experienced before.

Body parts and bodies flew in every direction. It was as if the darkened road had suddenly become the focal point of World War Three.

Scared out of his wits, Steve hit the gas, but the Dodge was dead.

He turned the ignition.

There was nothing, no response.

“What the FUCK!” he said, as he slammed the steering wheel with the palm of his hand.

“I can’t believe this!” he said when he saw what had killed his beloved Dodge.

A .50 caliber machine gun, which fell from God knows where, and had penetrated the bonnet of the Dodge, piercing the engine block, and destroyed any hope of it ever purring again.

“What are the chances of that ever happening again?” Steve said as he glanced at Kathy, who was looking back to him with white -knuckled fear.

“I don’t know?” she said, “but look at that.”

“Look at what?”

“I think he’s alive.”

“Help me,” said a man who was hanging upside down from the branches of a tree.

 

 

 

THE GAS STATION

A LITTLE BEFORE

 

As the thickening flames began to take hold, Charlie lay on the ground whimpering. His clothes were in tatters and burned. His hair was singed. Even so, he was still alive. Lying on his back near Charlie was Anderson. His face red from the unexpected blast and the heat, but otherwise he seemed unharmed.

Standing overlooking them both was Susan; her legs spread apart and holding a gun.

“You bitch,” Tyler said, his voice cracking. “You moronic, gutter trolling.”

“How dare you speak to me ---” Susan said.

Tyler tightened his grip on his pistol as Susan adjusted her stance and held her weapon pointing toward Tyler.

“How could you?” he said.

“How could I what?”

“Shoot the boy!”

Susan tilted her head to one side. “I didn’t shoot the boy.”

Anderson raised himself on his elbows. “What, who was shot?” he said, sounding confused.

“Your captain shot that kid,” she said as her eyes shifted in the Dead boy’s direction, “then he said he was going to kill me.”

“Liar,” Tyler said as he raised himself to one knee. “You killed a child, Susan.”

“All I did was try to stop you from murdering a kid because you panicked.”

“What kid, who are you talking about?” Anderson asked.

Tyler pointed at the boy.

“I tried to save him, Tyler. I told you not to shoot. It’s just a kid I said. However, you won’t admit that. Men like you never admit being wrong.”

Tyler shook his head in disbelief and then laughed.

“Take her weapon, Lieutenant,” he said and then laughed again. “That whack to the head really done a number on you, didn’t it?”

Anderson, who was now standing said, “I don’t understand what’s happening?”

“It’s very simple. Take her weapon and I’ll explain later. We have got to get out of here. I can’t believe this place hasn’t blown yet. What the fuck happened out there?” Tyler said.

“This is bullshit,” Susan remonstrated. “Everything he says is bullshit. Tyler lost the plot a long time ago, now he’s leading us to our deaths and you know it! Officer Cook thought the same as I do. He told me outside only a few minutes before. He came to me and said that he thought the captain was having a mental breakdown. That he thought Tyler was losing it.”

“What is your problem? We don’t have time for this.”

“Captain, things have been pretty crazy. I know Susan, and she wouldn’t have shot the kid on purpose,” Anderson said.

“I didn’t shoot the kid. Tyler did!”

“No matter who it was, I’m sure it was an accident.”

“It was murder, Lieutenant. It was no mistake. I saw it.”

Susan rolled her index finger about her temple as if Tyler was insane.

“You killed him, Tyler. You murdered him and now you’re trying to blame me.”

Susan looked toward Anderson, trying to find an ally.

“You told me he wouldn’t listen to you about destroying those things back at Fort Gillem. You told me how he blindly followed the orders of people who had no understanding of what was really happening. You pleaded with him to do something about those things before disaster struck. However, he never listened to you, and now look where we are. Look at what has happened because he ignored you. How many people have to die because this broken man wears two bars on his shoulders? Are you next, Lieutenant, maybe Charlie or me? Just think about that, and then think about this. If we don’t do something to stop him, we will all end up dead, and he’ll blame everything on us. Your name will be mud, and my reputation destroyed, all because he’s having a mental breakdown.”

“Don’t be a fool, Anderson,” Tyler said.

Susan continued to aim her gun at Tyler as she spoke.

“It’s a different world out there now,” Susan said to Anderson. “You can’t rely on the chain of command any more. Not when there is so much at stake. We need to get out of this town. We can’t help anyone here; the town is dead. However, there are people we can help back in Atlanta, but if he’s left in command, we’ll help no-one. Don’t you want the chance to help your family, Anderson? You can’t help them if you’re dead.”

“Don’t listen to the bitch,” Tyler said.

“Shut up, Captain!” Anderson said, his voice sounding as if he was on the edge. “Just shut the fuck up and let me think.”

“What’s to think about?” Tyler said. “This place is about to go up in flames. Look outside, we don’t have time for this.”

“He’ll blame all of this on you, Lieutenant, when he gets back. He wants no witnesses to his fuck ups, and he knows that you would be obligated to speak the truth and explain how his decisions cost the lives of so many; children included. Join Charlie and I now. Don’t listen to him, use your common sense. I trust you, Lieutenant. Please save me. Save us all.”

“We’ll take him back with us,” Anderson said as he drew his weapon. “Put your gun down, Louis, or it all ends here.”

“You’re a fool. She murdered the boy,” Tyler said.

“He’s blaming me now and soon it will be you, Lieutenant, because liars never quit.”

“What’s going on?” Charlie asked.

“A revolution! Don’t worry, Lieutenant, you’ll be a national hero after this. I’m going to make sure of it.”

Minutes later the gas station exploded with a massive fireball that could be seen for miles.

 

ATLANTA FOX-5 NEWS

 

Paul’s head buzzed with a thousand thoughts.

He felt the sudden rush of a life near its end as adrenaline pumped through his body. As much as he tried he couldn’t discount his current predicament.

Leaning back into his chair’s leather embrace, Paul snorted his last line of cocaine from a small pocket mirror. He’d undone his tie and dropped it to the floor before jacking off.

Why not, what’s to lose?

A chill ran through his body, a momentary flash of joy.

He sighed as he thought of how utterly alone he now was. What the fuck now?

The window of his office was cracking under the weight of so many Dead things, many of whom were past pseudo friends, all dead, all gone.

Is this really it? Is there nothing else left?

Paul began to cry, he had never cried before while under the spell of cocaine.

His greatest joy now only compressed his nightmare, locked in a room with no way out. He stayed at his post expecting some applause, a raise, and stock options, all those years of trimming the fat and cutting throats. All of it was for nothing.

A leather chair, an empty mirror and a rolled one hundred dollar note.

Nobody to miss him, nobody to say it’s okay...

Nothing.

“Man. This fucking sucks!”

Paul’s phone rang one last time. As he stretched to answer his phone, his final call --- they broke through the glass of the office window.

FOX-5 was off the air.

 

 

TURNER FIELD

 

The landing of Air Force One had gone without a hitch, but as the President transferred to a waiting helicopter, he could hear gunfire on the edge of the landing field.

Atlanta was on fire.

The helicopter ducked and weaved in and around the heavy smoke as fighter jets flew above and AH-64 Apache choppers kept pace at their side.

It was a precise and fluent display of aeronautics, showcasing the pilot’s synergy with their machines.

Harris said, “Look over there, it’s Turner Field lit up like a Christmas tree.”

President Holtz turned to his wife. “Look, honey, there it is.”

“It’s beautiful,” she said, “but you will have to do something about this haze. The long-term effects on the children will be devastating, their poor little lungs. We really must do something.”

“Indeed, dear,” Holtz said.

“I’m serious, all that plastic and burning rubber. It’s all chemicals, and it’s all dangerous. Surely there is someone who could do something? You have a thousand generals, could you find a spare one?”

“Maybe, my dear.”

“Maybe nothing. I’m the First Lady now, Thomas. I have my responsibilities, and they’re every bit as important as yours.”

As they flew closer to Turner Field, they saw that the once perfectly maintained diamond was now covered by a camouflage mesh, while in the outfield; tents lined the plush grass with military precision. There wouldn’t be enough room to swing a bat, Ambrose considered.

With a whoop, whoop the President’s chopper landed on a cleared area of the floodlit field, which was surrounded by heavily armed soldiers who rushed the chopper’s landing space.

General Carnegie stood waiting with his entourage. His face exhibited a broad smile.

By Carnegie’s side was the officer in charge of the TOC, Tactical Operation Centre, and the joint commander of Delta Access One, Diamond Aboveground Command and Flight. “Welcome, Mr. President, I hope you will enjoy your stay here.”

“Thank you, General,” Holtz replied.

“Madam,” the general bowed his head.

“General. It’s good to see you again, how is your family?”

Carnegie shrugged. “I’m sure they’re all fine.”

Behind Holtz, Harris disembarked, followed by Ambrose and then Holtz’s aides who carried the nuclear football.

“Welcome, everyone,” the General said to anyone who could hear. “I’m sure you would all like to stay up here for coffee and cake,” he said with a laugh, “but if you would please follow me downstairs into the true heart of the beast, we’ll take our refreshments there. What you’re about to see will no doubt leave you amazed, but it is our new home for the foreseeable future.”

General Carnegie led them through a maze of equipment and supplies, which formed rough gridded streets, little lane-ways traversing from east to west, north and south, which were overshadowed by towering crates of basic supplies and vehicle parts. It was like a town of bits and pieces. Air filters for helicopters, Humvee engine blocks, the field kitchens’ refrigerated supplies, everything from galvanized nails to bolts and screws. It was efficiency at its best, a haven from the chaos.

“You’ve done an amazing job here, Tex. You’ve thought of everything.”

Carnegie nodded, accepting the acclaim.

If only the President understood how many years of painstaking effort, it would have taken to do all of this; the planning and the forethought! There was no way this idiot Carnegie could have organized a flower show let alone all of this.

Did he not understand that secret boards and committees would have operated for thousands of man-hours, working on contingency plans, and action plans, and other complicated scenarios, which would be filed away? Ambrose chuckled to himself, a contingency handbook for alerts and emergencies. However, this dolt receives a pat on the back for nothing --- for being here! Plans and more plans; nuclear attacks, asteroids, and God knows what else? It would not have surprised Ambrose if there were a contingency for the Four Horseman as well. Which no doubt the general would have received credit for.

Carnegie smiled, enjoying the moment.

“That’s what I’m paid for, Mr. President,” Carnegie said as enlisted men and women scurried about the giant maze of crates, carrying clipboards and puffing on cigarettes. Their life now consisted of quick coffee breaks and a fast bite of chow. They were under staffed, and no longer paid. Ambrose could see that these people worked hard, non-stop, the exhaustion on their faces were all too clear. Nevertheless, to sit still was worse. It brought home a whole new nightmare.

As they attempted to sleep, and while they rested alone, they thought of their families. Who were alive? Dead? Undead? Where are they --- are they safe? Or waiting for them to come home to save them?

Most didn’t want the time to think about their families, the children, their wives and husbands.

They secretly dreaded the little down time they did receive, even while complaining about the workload. When the work ends, the suicides will begin, many of them thought.

The emptiness of depression will then kick in.

That pain was only just around the corner when the working stopped.

Outside of the ballpark gunshots could be heard, single shots and automatic fire.

“I can’t take all the credit for this, Mr. President,” Carnegie said, “but I’m happy to take the lion’s share of it.”

“Have the troops secured most of Atlanta, General?” Holtz asked.

“No. Not yet, we have a two-mile radius around the ballpark, and we’re attempting to clear more areas. It’s the lack of manpower that’s holding us back. Personally, I don’t see the problem. The damn things don’t fire back. Even so, we’re doing what we can.”

“Manpower?”

“Yes, Mr. President, we just don’t have enough boots on the ground. Nevertheless, I’m sure if we’re given some more time we can remedy that quick smart.”

BOOK: Forest Park: A Zombie Novel
8.9Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

The Sex Lives of Cannibals by J. Maarten Troost
The Queen's Necklace by Teresa Edgerton
Tragedia en tres actos by Agatha Christie
Trophy Wives by Jan Colley
Redemption by Will Jordan
Unveiled Treasures by Kayla Janz
The White Witch by B.C. Morin