You and Me against the World: The Creepers Saga Book 1 (5 page)

The group was unaware that their coconspirator was actually a member of a radical group called the Constitution Militia. The Militia hated liberals, progressives, environmentalists, and especially the PLM. At 1:00 a.m., the PLM infiltrated the nine power plants, killed five guards, and took everyone else hostage. The hostages, who were scientists and engineers, pleaded with the PLM not to attempt a forced shutdown. The PLM ignored them. They followed their shutdown instructions precisely. The exposed rods superheated, and at 3:47 a.m., all nine power plants exploded in nuclear mushrooms. It was an unfortunate surprise for the PLM, but a resounding victory for the Constitution Militia.

The blast radius caused extensive and widespread damage, but the nuclear fallout did worse. Radiation sickness weakened those who hadn’t been killed in the massive explosions. The virus took the upper hand. Scientists who had continued to monitor events made one special note; radiation had no effect on the virus or the infected. The area from Maine to New Jersey became uninhabitable.

As the infected raged in Washington and penetrated the Pentagon, one concerned general released the nuclear missile launch codes to the 341st Missile Wing. At Malmstram Missile Base in Montana, the commander saw this as a sign from God. He had long believed that the crazy, gay liberals in California were responsible for the decline of the American culture. Clearly, he was not alone, as the talk radio hosts hinted—if not outright agreed—with his opinion on the matter.

The men in his command were top-notch soldiers who would follow his orders without hesitation or question. At the pandemic’s onset, they had terminated all general outside communications both inbound and out. This was standard protocol, to prevent distraction or risk subjective decision-making by the missile team. The only information the commander’s team received was that which he provided.

The commander addressed his team on the morning that the Northeast went dark and nuclear winter spread across New England. He told the men that the United States was under attack, that California had fallen to China, and that they had instructions to launch their ballistic missiles at Los Angeles in order to minimize the threat. If his men thought to question such an order, the presentation of the missile codes silenced any objections.

At 0630 hours, they launched their complete complement of missiles at the greater Los Angeles area.

Missile flight time was just under seven minutes.

At 0637 hours, Southern California disappeared.

Divided we stand, united we fall

Shortly after LA’s destruction, Texas seceded and formed the Great Republic of Texas. They took immediate command of all military equipment and personnel. They were not, however, without their own losses. The Beach flu had hit the shoreline hard, and as a matter of safety, they surrendered everything south of Interstate 10. Surrender came in the form of the bombing of San Antonio, Houston, and most of the coastline. Additionally, they moved the capital to Dallas, and they closed the borders with the help of air strikes and the newly formed Texas Freedom Militia. Texas granted citizenship to anyone who either was a member of the military or could produce a birth certificate that demonstrated they had been born in a Texas hospital. They offered everyone else the choice of deportation or execution.

Arizona followed suit. Their Southern California concerns resolved, the newly formed Arizona Royal Air Force turned its attention to the south. They systematically destroyed every Mexican town within two hundred miles of their border. When the mission was complete, they invaded New Mexico and did the same to the Mexican towns at its border. Arizona had no issue with Mexico; they just believed their efforts would prevent the infection’s migration from the south.

Texas viewed their neighbor’s actions as an aggressive advance toward their country. They reallocated most of their troops to the west. Arizona assumed this was evidence that Texas planned a preemptive strike. They moved their resources east. The border war left civilian populations unprotected. The infection spread, and the numbers grew. The infected hordes decimated both states.

Faith is belief in the absence of hope

One group of survivors fared better than the rest. This group, made up mainly of people under the age of twenty-five, understood the pandemic’s implications. They had no disbelief to overcome. Their generation knew a world where the Twin Towers were destroyed by the same airplanes that flew you to Disney World. A world where the enemy didn’t wave a flag but instead lived next door, waiting to bomb your mall. A world where friends grew up, went to the desert, and stepped on bombs. A world where their parents lost their homes paying for the college education that no longer ensured their children a job. Throughout those years, they had surrounded themselves with books, movies, and video games that centered on pandemic and apocalyptic events. Their virtual worlds had prepared them to be survivors. The real-life rules were not exactly the same, and in many cases, knowledge could not outweigh the odds, the infection, or an attack. However, when the populace turned, when the world looked more like a video game than reality, they were not shocked into paralysis and they didn’t hesitate. They did exactly what they had always joked they would do, they found guns, they formed teams, and they survived.

It did not turn out well for most. The sheer numbers they faced stacked the odds against them. In this game, there were no “unlimited” lives, no resets, and no forgiveness for even the smallest miscalculation. Still, as a subset of the survivors, they managed to stay alive the longest.

For Russell Thorn and Susan De’antonio, this saved their lives.

Chapter 4

The Living and the Dead

P
art 1

Sweet Caroline … ba … ba … ba

Devin and Brandon needed to run for their lives.

The only small problem was that Caroline was still in her off-campus house, and Devin would not abandon his girl. Brandon’s car was history. It sat half on top of the police car that had slammed into them. The deputy was dead. although they were pretty sure he had been dead before he rammed them. Now, halfway down the street, the Creepers were coming out of the proverbial woodwork.

Brandon had the cop’s nine millimeter, and two clips remained. The third was empty and discarded on the street behind them. At this rate, they would still have twenty feet to go when he fired the last bullet, and then they needed to work their way back out of the neighborhood.

Devin was being judicious with the cop’s twelve-gauge riot gun. He had almost twenty rounds, but even that paired with the Berretta was not going to get it done.

A Creeper broke in a slow gallop from inside an open garage. Its blood-smeared face screamed at them as it came.

“I got it,” Devin called. He didn’t waste a round on the scrawny old man; instead, he waited until it got in close and used the butt of the shotgun to open up its head.

“Brandon?”

“Yeah, bro?”

“This shit is breaking bad.”

“I know.”

“I don’t think we’re gonna make it.”

Brandon shrugged, targeted a large Creeper coming from another house, and squeezed off a single round into the thing’s head. It fell dead, and the young men moved up another five feet.

“Not suggesting we find a safer ZIP code?”

Devin looked down the last eighty feet to the rented house. Caroline’s car sat in the hot July sun. He knew she would do exactly as he had asked. She would wait for him. And he knew his friend would take every one of those steps with him until they were at her doorstep or dead.

“I’m going down this street, but you could jet, man. It’s my girl.”

Brandon laughed and took a few steps ahead of Devin to make his intentions clear. He called back over his shoulder.

“On your right, Dev.”

A large woman soaked in blood galloped at him. Devin waited for her to get in range and then pulled the trigger.

The god of lightning

The air smelled bad. Sometimes he smelled bad things like the death birds that ate prey in the field or the rotting animals killed by the giant metal machine that rode the black river or garbage from the other packs or the bitter yellow chemicals on the grass. This was different. This was death, but it was also danger. He worried about his pack. He did not want to be out on the soft green grass; he wanted “in.” The woman smelled wrong. She was starting to have the bad smell too. The man, his pack leader, smelled like such a crazy mixture that he could not decide how to respond. The man smelled like aggression, fear, and hurt. This made him nervous. If his pack leader feared, then he needed to fear. But the bad smell was everywhere and nowhere, so he didn’t know what to attack or how to protect his pack. The man had him tied outside on the soft green grass, and usually he liked that but not today; today he wanted to be inside with his pack. He pulled at his chain. He could slip the collar easily. He relaxed his neck and stretched his body long. The black collar slid off. Ordinarily he would run, so the pack had to chase him. Today he did not. He stood outside the screen, barked, and growled. The man came outside. The man looked ready to fight; he was tense and aggressive. But underneath, the smell of fear was growing stronger. He felt his fur rise and issued a low growl. The man patted his head and called him by his sound, Zeus, then brought him in. When the bad-smelling things entered his den, he attacked, he protected, and then he went away into the dark.

DK’s big finish

When the plane came down, all hell broke loose. DK wished he had run like everyone else. Locked in the second-floor infirmary exam room with five very lovely coeds would seem like a good deal to any warm-blooded college boy, except now there were only two coeds left. The other three he had already helped through the window, and they were hightailing it to safety. The two left with him were a real problem. The pounding on the door had intensified, and the cheap handle and lock were about to give, and still Melanie, or Mallory or whatever her name was, wouldn’t go out the damn window.

“Hey. Hey, listen. Listen, it’s perfectly safe. See, your other friends went, and they were fine. Now come on, I’ll help you.”

“No, no, I can’t. I can’t; I’m afraid.”

DK looked at her friend. The second remaining student was glazed over and checked out. The door cracked in the center, and the growling and howling behind the door became a victorious scream.

He took the girl by her arms and led her back to the window.

“Look, if you don’t go, I can’t go, and that means I’m gonna die and I don’t want to die.”

“W-what are those things?”

“Zombies or crazies or something worse. But it doesn’t matter. What does matter is you have a chance to live if you go right now.”

“O-okay, but I’m afraid.”

“I’ll help you out. Just keep your eyes closed and go hand over hand until your feet touch the ground. What’s your friend’s name?”

“Brianna.”

“Okay, I’ll take care of Brianna. You get going.”

The girl went. She opened her eyes while she was still eight feet from the ground, screamed, let go, and fell. DK yelled to her to run.

She did.

Brianna was not going anywhere. The scene in the hallway had broken her. The zombie nurse had chewed off Brianna’s roommate’s face the roommate that had been hit by the shrapnel from, of all things, a freaking jet crash on campus. DK had helped Brianna get her friend to the infirmary for first aid.

Nice guys finish last, DK. Should have run; everyone else did.

He moved Brianna into the corner, sat her on the floor, and placed a rolling gurney in front of her. There was no way to get her out the window—well, out the window, yes, but to hold on to the rope, no. A free fall would probably kill her. Maybe that would be a blessing.

He looked around the room and found a metal stand used to hold IV bottles. He lifted it and checked the weight. Then he stood in front of the gurney. He would protect Brianna as long as he could, which he didn’t really think was going to be all that long.

The door gave and three zombies piled into the room.

“This really sucks,” he said aloud and raised the metal stand.

Webster in the Nick of time

Whether it was good fortune or divine providence that Webster took a day off to help Nick, one can never know. That one decision did, however, save both their lives and, by extension, several others. Although it only extended Webster’s by a few weeks, he got an opportunity most never had, the opportunity to die a hero.

If it were possible to ask him if he thought it was worth it, Webster would have probably thought you the biggest fool he had ever seen and then answered with a simple and direct “fair trade.”

Webster was cruising through the Florida Gulf Coast University parking lot only half looking for Nick. The little dash clock showed five minutes until two, and Nick’s class didn’t finish until the top of the hour. He was rightly surprised when he saw his friend in a full sprint across the asphalt. Webster picked up his speed and headed in a direction that seemed likely to cut through the center of his friend’s high-velocity trajectory.

He was on time and on target.

“What’s up?” Webster said as casually as if Nick was on a leisurely stroll.

Out of breath, Nick bent over, gasping. From this bent position, he pointed in the direction he had come, and Webster looked.

Breaking from the tree-lined path were five very wild-looking folks.

“Dude, are they skipping?”

Nick shook his head.

“Galloping”—
gasp
—“zombies”—
gasp
. “I think … ate my”—
gasp
—“professor.”

“Whoa, well, get the fuck in the truck.”

Nick did.

Golden opportunity

“Get in the closet.”

“No, that’s crazy. What’s going on?”

“Never mind that. Get in.”

“Where’s Mom?”

“Mom is … Mom’s sleeping.”

“No, she’s not. Why do you have a gun?”

“Mom is gone, Golden. I-I’m sorry.”

“I want to see her.”

“Listen, Goldie, there’s no time. Zeus, come here!”

Crash.

“What is that?”

“Zeus, leave it! Good boy, sit. Honey, listen, here take this.”

“That’s your iPod. Why are you giving that to me?”

“Golden, just put it on. I want you to turn it up loud and stay in the closet.”

“Why?”

“So you’ll be safe. Zeus, wait. Guard, boy.”

Loud barking
.

“Raymond, I’m scared.”

“Me too, honey, me too. But you stay in here until I … until someone opens the door. Understand? Do not open this door no matter what.”

“Okay.”

“Promise me.”

“I promise.”

“Okay, remember, turn up the music. Here, listen to this playlist … and … I love you.”

Annie’s doin’ work

Annie was pissed.

Her shift ended at one o’clock, and her mother hadn’t been in the parking lot to take her home. Annie cursed herself for not walking home. Instead, she came back into the damn restaurant, and her bitch manager made her cover Carl’s shift. The place was empty. The Bitch, which was Annie’s little pet name for her manager, could have handled it with the cook, Dave.

Make that Lazy Bitch.

She hated the place enough without having to put in extra hours. To add insult to injury, Carl worked prep, so Annie had to stand here slopping this carb garbage onto plates for a bunch of ingrates.

The spooky creep at the counter was par for the course. He just stared at them with his rheumy blue eyes, while the Bitch asked him repeatedly if he wanted to order.

Obviously not. The guy is homeless and crazy. Why keep asking him? Just kick him out.

The crazy guy reached for the manager’s arm. She yelled at him. He bit her. Annie saw the blood squirt, heard bone crack, and then the Bitch screamed. Annie picked up a carving knife. Crazy guy was going to pay for her bad day.

She swung the large knife in a short arc and caught him on the shoulder. He released the Bitch and screeched at her.

“You want some of this, Creeper?”

He did because he came over the counter and fast. Dave came around and put the guy in a headlock. It was going well until the Bitch got back up off the floor. She looked as crazy as the homeless dude did. She pulled the cook’s head back and tore into his neck. He screamed almost as loud as she had. The Creeper broke free and came at Annie again. She launched herself over the counter and did a quick spin to face her attacker. He came straight at her. She gave him a kick in the chest, and he fell back, arched over the counter. Annie drove the carving knife into his chest. She took a few steps back. The Bitch had finished with the cook and now eyed Annie with hungry eyes. That isn’t what got Annie moving. The Creeper stood back up, big knife sticking out of his chest, and growled at her.

Annie sprinted for the door. She would just run home.

The Spider swings for the fences

Austin hated school, but he loved baseball.

On the field, slipping off his shin guards, he decided that today he needed a home run to lock up his varsity catcher position. That jackhole, Bob Nelson, might have a year on Austin, but he wasn’t half the catcher. Behind home plate, Austin was the Spider. Didn’t matter how wild Joey Travino threw the ball (and that fucker was wild), it didn’t get past Austin. Crouched down in the dust, he had eight arms, and one was always right where the ball came, always.