Humanity's Death: A Zombie Epic

Humanity’s Death

Copyright 2016 D.S. Black

All Rights Reserved

Smashwords Edition

Humanity’s Death: A Zombie Epic

Copyright © 2016 D.S. Black

This is a work of fiction. Any references to
historical events, real people, or real places are used
fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are
products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual
events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely
coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this
publication maybe reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any
form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other
electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written
permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations
embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses
permitted by copyright law.

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Smashwords

Head Lines

One Year Later

Chapter One: The Teach Family

Chapter Two: Plat Eyes

Chapter Three: A Ghastly Return

Chapter Four: Candy and Andrew

Chapter Five: Final Night in the Swamp

Intermission: Dead Letters

Chapter Six: Tommy “Duras” Morrow

Chapter Seven: The Incredible Okona and His Comic
Warriors

Chapter Eight: Militia Interference

Chapter Nine: Rusty Ray and the Seekers

Chapter Ten: Professor Mary Jane

Chapter Eleven: Allies

The Epic Continues

Note from the Author

About the Author

Head Lines

THE NEW YORK TIMES—A virus is ravaging the country.
People are falling over, reanimating, and eating the flesh off
anyone they see. There is speculation of a worldwide pandemic. Some
experts are suggesting a super bug may have been spawned by the
Ebola vaccination.

THE NEW YORK POST—Hailed as a miracle cure, the
vaccine promised to rid humanity of Ebola…early reports suggest
that the outbreak originated in Africa where the vaccine was first
used.

REUTERS—The situation is growing worse. Early
estimates suggest millions are already infected. The CDC suggests
staying home, locking your doors, and watching your television for
emergency channel updates.

THE YOUNG TURKS—If you have been infected or know
someone that has been infected, please blow their fucking heads
off.

INFOWARS—The elite create virus that kills off 80
percent of the population.

THE GUARDIAN: The president is dead, mass sightings
of paranormal activity reported.

There were no more headlines.

One Year Later

Chapter One:
The Teach Family

1

Darkness
surrounds Jack Teach while a bar of swampy moon light drifting
through an open window streaks across his face. He lays in a semi
unconscious state. Slowly his nervous system reminds him of the
pain coursing through his body. The smell of infection is
nauseating. Breathing causes exhaustion, his eyes barely stay
open.
How
did this happen? What in god’s name was I thinking?
He thinks to himself, absorbed
in pain and regret.
Outside the world is dark, frogs are burping, and something
is moving.

Where is she? It hurts so much.

2
24 hours earlier.

Jack stared out of an open window. Hot morning air
blew against his face. His black rimmed, round glasses slipped down
his sweaty nose, and he pushed them back in place. He breathed in
the smell of decaying vegetation and animal matter. A frog croaked
somewhere in the thickness of the surrounding cypress trees. Gray
mist floated like a cloudy haze, casting a worrying doubt over the
swampy wet land. The vegetation was gray with desaturated
green.

He dunked a spoon into a can, lifted it out, and
swallowed cold beans as he watched sparks fly in the face of his
cousin, Andrew, who put the final touches on repairs to the pontoon
boat. Sweat streamed black grease down Andrew's thin arms. Faded
green BDUs hung loosely around his legs; and his black boots dug
into the soft marsh. Not far from him, sitting at a bench, Candy
cleaned rifles with her daughters. The girls sang a low and
melancholy tune, like a song from a funeral. Their legs dangled out
of pale denim shorts; their hands rubbed bullets with stained red
rags.

“They don’t have to shine girls—just gotta
kill.” Candy said. Jody blew by them in his usually haste. His
oversized belly jiggled as he carried a bag of ammunition. His
large legs stepped in the boat and loaded the gear as sparks
continued to fly into Andrew’s masked face.

Behind Jack, Papa spoke, “You about ready
Jack?”

“Ready as I’m going to be.”

“Today the reign of terror is ends. Today we
fight back. Don’t look concerned Jack. I believe in you.” The old
man said.

“What do you think Mema would say about all
this?” Jack asked.

In the
distance Jack watched his family prepare to leave. A haunting
morning dew surrounded them.
Ghosts. Dear Jesus, they look like ghosts.
Jack thought.

“She’d be damn proud! She’d be happy that you
and your cousins are fighting back. Ain’t no way to know what she’d
think about dead people walking around. Hell, nobody saw that one
coming.”

“You’re right. She would want us to go out and
help people. She wouldn’t want us to hide out here forever.”

Jack turned around. His grandfather sat hunched.
The old man tried to stay tall in his wheel chair but slumped
involuntarily. The old man stared at his grandson. “I’m proud of
you, boy.” His body was shriveled and frail. His skin wrinkled and
splotched. His eyes were a dark gray, his hair a silver white. “I
know Papa… I know.” A white wife beater clung to Papa’s scaly skin;
and the imprint of a pace maker pushed out from his chest.

The sound of the boat engine roared outside. The
happy shouts of the girls rang through the air. Jack turned and
stuck his head out the window, “We ready Andrew?”

He removed his welding mask, gave Jack a silent
thumbs up, and wiped a thick coat of sweat from his brow.

“Time to rock and roll!” Jack said

Jack turned to see Papa smiling gleefully. “I
really should go.” He said. His teeth were few in number, rotted
and yellow; his chin thin, and his neck small with loose skin.

“You would only slow us down old man. Plus, who
would watch after the girls while we’re gone?”

“Shit boy! I don’t watch after them. They watch
after me!”

Jack walked around behind him and gripped the
handles of his wheel chair. The handles were red and cracking. The
old wood floor crunched underneath the wheels as Jack pushed Papa
down the rickety front door and onto an old splintered porch. The
sun threatened to gleam down through the grayish green canopy
above. Around the marshy island, thick trunks of cypress trees
disappeared into black water. From within the fog, sounds of wild
life murmured—like eerie unseen ghosts, just waiting to show
themselves.

Jack pushed him down a cracked concrete slant.
The old man whistled an old war melody while rolling through thick
humidity. It wasn’t even nine o’clock yet and sweat already
dribbled down every inch of his body.

The girls ran up to Papa, “Let us push him!”

“Yes ma’am”

Candy walked over and punched Jack in the
shoulder. “You ready to make our mark in this apocalyptic shit
hole?”

Jody marched over, “Don’t bruise him up baby, we
need his skinny behind!”

“Rather be skinny than with a fat belly like
you. How the hell do you keep that bulgy pouch, anyway? It’s not
like we’re eating steak and potatoes these days.” Jack said.

“I’m just big boned.”

Andrew shouted from the boat, “Ain’t never seen
a fat skeleton, Jody!”

Candy kissed her husband on the cheek, “At least
we know the dead will eat you first, babe.”

“Enough clamming! It’s getting late and you kids
have a long mission ahead.” Papa said.

Jack turned and looked down. “You really enjoy
playing General, uh?”

“Lucky for you, I already whipped the Germans a
long time ago. Compared to storming Normandy, this is a walk in the
park!”

Jack walked over to the boat and smacked Andrew
on the shoulder. “You sure this thing won’t sink?”

Andrew looked up with a sly grin.

“Nothing I fix sinks.”

“I don’t know… do you remember that inflatable
raft?”

“Shit! That was what…” He scratched an unkempt
goatee as though thinking, “fifteen years ago!”

Behind Jack, Candy and Jody kissed the girls
goodbye. “Don’t worry girls, we’ll be back as soon as possible.”
Candy said.

Jack looked around at his family. A dark mist
surrounded them, blurring their faces. For a moment, Jack felt as
though none of this existed, like a foggy nightmare he couldn’t
wake from. He climbed into the boat. The metal floor showed a
scorched, welded section. The boat rocked in the dark, murky water.
He took a seat near the front. His glasses slid down his nose, and
he pushed them back in place. Jody and Candy climbed in, followed
by Andrew, a sniper rifer jiggling on his back as he sat behind the
steering section of the engine. Candy’s revolver was barely
visible, hanging deftly from her faded police uniform. Jody’s shot
gun rested over his broad shoulder.

Jack's AR15 rested against his camouflage chest
rigging. The rigging had three front pockets filled with extra
magazines. He touched the cold metal and breathed deeply, taking in
the dying world around him. He watched as the girls waved good bye
from the water’s edge. The engine’s exhaust made him grimace. Black
swamp water gurgled around the boat’s exterior as Andrew guided
them through the dank, deathly water.

3

The air gushed around Jack's face. He held his head
high, making sure his glasses stayed put. Tall cypress jolted
through the black water like moss covered pillars. A cloud free
blue sky hung above. A dark, shadowy forest covered both sides of
the water.

Jack found it hard to believe such dark beauty
could exist. It was easy to want to forget about the dangers ahead.
Staying within the safe insulation of the swamp for the last year
almost made him forget that almost everyone he'd ever know died,
reanimated, and started eating the flesh off everyone in sight. The
horror of those first days still wake him up at night. The screams
of children, and cries of the elderly haunt his dreams. Traveling
down the river was like a dream in itself, and his mind drifted
back to that first day of the Fever.

The news anchor blared, “Stay inside your homes.
Lock your doors.”

Jack turned it off. His heart pounded. He had to
save him. Had to get him out of that nursing home before it was too
late. He called his cousins; the cell phones working for the time
being. They were on their way; the pandemonium in the streets was
wild. People were unprepared for the what was happening.

Jack waited at his window. Time seemed to slow
and tick away with painful agony. He chewed at a nail to help pass
the time. His glasses slid down his face; he pushed them back.

At the sight of Andrew’s black Humvee, draped in
the color of camouflage, he breathed a little easier. He'd emptied
his book bag of all his college books earlier, and filled it with
food stuffs—chocolates, canned beans, and SPAM.

He ran with earnest towards his cousin’s red
neck dream of a truck, opened the door, and slammed it behind him.
Before Andrew could lay on the pedal, flashing blue lights came
from behind, and swung around to the driver’s side. Candy’s voice
echoed out of a loud speaker, “Follow me! There isn’t much time!”
Jack saw that her daughters were in the back of the cruiser like a
couple of child convicts.

As they dashed through the streets, the bodies
of the recently deceased moved about in slow, jerking movements.
Kids ran and women screamed as their blood drooling husbands dug
their hungry teeth into flesh. Nothing could be done to help them.
It was far too chaotic to stop. The window of opportunity would
close and Papa would be dead, or worse, reanimated and chewing on
the muscles of some sexy nurse.

The sky was dark and rain threatened to make the
rescue wet and dreary. The chaos was still new, and it’s for that
reason, people obeyed the flashing lights whirling above Candy’s
patrol car. Cars and trucks let them pass. But, the dead didn’t
budge for a moment.