Zombie Battle (Books 1-3): Trinity (12 page)

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Authors: Jacqueline Druga

Tags: #Zombie Apocalypse

BOOK: Zombie Battle (Books 1-3): Trinity
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A concerned coworker innocently went to check on Ashley. Of course she never made it out of the ladies room, alive that is. Ashley severely attacked her, leaving the floor glazed with the coworker’s blood, limbs and intestines.

Throat torn, insides missing, the coworker did rise, but Ashley had moved on from that second floor ladies room.

The coworker followed suit.

Soon two had turned to three and so on, unnoticed in what was considered a safe and secure place to work.

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“See this is exactly, how it starts,” Saul told Powers.

Jack didn’t see what Saul was doing or facial expressions. He was stuck in his own train of thought. He left Fort Bragg with eight men to join sixteen others in Peru from Fort Bragg. Jack was the first to come back. The plane landed over six hours before hand and it was just under two hours that the order was given to retrieve all those returning from Peru.

“I hoped my theory wasn’t true,” Power said. “On the bright side, they located nine of the sixteen in Fort Hood.”

“All positive,” Saul said. “So that tells me the others were too. Where are they? This is how it starts. Sgt. Edwards, how many did they located from your base.”

It took a second for the question to hit Jack and for it to register that he was being asked a question. “Um, ten.”

“All but four sick,” Saul added. “And how many did Carlson take out, that we know of.”

Powers responded, “They think they got them all.”

“Except Carlson.”

When Saul said that, Jack’s thought was, ‘except Morgan’. Morgan was his next door neighbor in base housing. Morgan wasn’t found or retrieved. It was Morgan’s deployment that made Jack go to Command and ask to go.

Saul’s hand slammed on the desk, the thump jolted Jack.

Jack looked over.

Saul shook his head. “One bite turns someone; this is how it got out of control in Peru. Only we’re not dealing with a small town. We’re dealing with cases dotted across our country.”

“Shut it down?” Powers asked.

“Get a hold of FEMA. We need to get everything shut down now, until it’s under control.”

“Will they do that with only a few cases?” Powers asked. “I mean, you’re the head of this, will they listen?”

“You and I both know a few cases will not be a few cases for long,” Saul said.

Jack’s blurting, ‘fuck it,’ caused both Powers and Saul to look at him and stop their discussion.

“Soldier?” Powers questioned.

“My next door neighbor is one of the men from Peru they can’t locate. So, turn me in, try to stop me, I don’t give a shit.” He grabbed the phone. “I’m calling my wife.”

CHAPTER NINE

 

Fayetteville, NC

 

Everything she needed was packed in a duffle bag, her revolver loaded perched on top of the bag waiting to go with Lil. She had a note, all ready. One that she would leave for Jack on the door. He didn’t need one, but she’d leave it anyhow. Though she wanted to hear from Jack, Lil grew uneasy. Small news tidbits of random violence, sick people, the events in Germany, along with the buzz on the conspiracy sites she frequented, aided in her decision that it was time to go.

She didn’t want to. The last thing she packed was a backpack with pictures and memorabilia of her and Jack’s life. Things that couldn’t be replaced.

Once it was over and done with she could return to her home, but just in case there was no home to return to, Lil was taking the items.

She was just getting ready to leave, backpack over her shoulder, purse as well, duffle in the entrance hall. Preparing to grab the duffle, she heard a slight bit of commotion outside. She didn’t think much of it, why would she.

She would have investigated had her phone not rung the second she picked up her things.

It was a number she didn’t recognize, but she answered it anyway.

“Lil,” it was Jack.

“Jack,” she gasped out. She hadn’t talked to him at all since his text. “I was so worried about you . . .”

“Lil, have you gotten in contact with Garrick yet.”

“Yes, yes, I have. Jack, where are you calling from?”

“Atlanta. I came back because of an injury.”

Lil breathed heavily.

“I’m fine, Lil. I’m absolutely fine. But I need you to go. OK? Just for a while. Go to Garrick’s.”

“Jack, what’s going on?” Lil asked.

“The bug broke perimeters. In fact, we inadvertently sent men back home not knowing if they were carriers. They’re turning Lil, if you know what I mean.”

“I do.”

“Some of those men went to Fort Bragg. One is missing, Morgan.”

Lil paused. “Morgan, our neighbor?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, Jack, I . . .” Lil’s eyes shifted. “Jack?” She said with simple question. “Hon, no need to worry about Morgan. He’s fine. He’s out front.”

“Lil.”

“In fact, he’s on the porch.” Lil walked to the door. “I’ll tell him you guys are looking for him.”

“Lil, don’t . . .”

Lil opened the door. Morgan stood with his back facing her. “Hey, Morgan, Jack’s on the phone, he . . .”

Morgan spun around. His arms flailing lifelessly as he did. His graying eyes caught hers, his face was one of death, and he opened his mouth, lunging with a growl. Lil shrieked and slammed the door, locking it as she did.

“Jack. Jack. Morgan’s . . .”

There were two long, thin panes of glass on each side of the door, Morgan’s fist sailed through the glass shattering it and causing Lil to scream again.

“Get out of the house!” Jack shouted.

Lil heard that, wanted to responded but didn’t. Although the door windows were only about seven inches wide, Morgan was trying his best to squeeze through, chards of glass searing into him.

Muttering out, ‘how stupid could I be?’ Lil tossed her phone in her purse, swept her keys from the table, reached down, grabbed her revolver and fired at Morgan.

She didn’t aim well. The bullet hit into his throat and he stumbled back. Still clutching her gun, she grabbed the duffle and raced to the back of the house to use the kitchen door.

Wanting to play it smart, Lil cautiously peeked out. No one was in the yard. But there was a problem. Her car was out front and she had to get around the house. It sounded quiet and Morgan was her only obstacle. Quietly she stepped out, back against the house, gun ready, and she inched her way to the edge of the house and peeked.

Clear.

Making a run for it, she spotted her vehicle, no one was around it. In the distance she heard screeching tires, people yelling. The commotion grew louder.

Her first thought was that someone heard her fire the gun and the Military Police were coming.

She as she emerged from the back of the house, she was greeted with the barrel of an M-4. The soldier who was aiming it lowered it some and stepped back. “ma’am.”

Lil breathed heavier, lowering her own gun,

“Ma’am, we are securing the area. You have to get back in the house,” he ordered.

Was he nuts? Did he see the front of her house?

“I want to get to my car,” she said.

“Ma’am, I need you to get back ...”

A blood curdling growl rang out, almost a split second before Morgan plowed into the solider, taking him by surprise and knocking him to the ground. Immediately, Morgan dug ferociously into the soldier’s stomach, ripping flesh and innards from him.

The soldier screamed. Lil fired.

This time she hit Morgan directly in the head, he flew back and dropped.

Body convulsing in pain, the soldier’s voice cracked as he called out and reached for Lil. “Help me.”

Lil Froze. As she was about to crouch to him, she spotted two more, like Morgan, heading her way. “I’m ...I’m sorry,” she said to the soldier. “I’m so sorry.” With that, and arms boggled with belongings, Lil flew to her car.

The two things neared her and she tossed her items inside, still clutching her gun and purse over her shoulder.

It was dumb, she knew it, she should have dropped everything, but she didn’t.

Hands slammed to her car window the moment she shut the door.

Grateful she was holding her keys, without fumbling, Lil started the car and sped out, she released a sigh when she heard the auto locks shift into to place with the shift of the gear.

There wasn’t as much activity the further down the road she drove. A military jeep tried to flag her down, but she raced around them and kept going.

She made it out of the housing plan and onto the main road. Another mile and a half she’d be off of base. Driving faster than she should have, Lil didn’t care. She just wanted to get out.

The moment she did. The moment she drove through those gates, things seemed normal. Traffic moved normally, almost as if no one had a clue.

She switched on the radio and was greeted with music.

No special alerts. No news.

That was a good sign. But Lil knew that would change. Her heart raced, her breathing was heavy, and she had to calm down.

The normalcy outside of the base made her feel as if everything that occurred at her house was surreal, a bad dream. She knew she had to get in touch with Jack.

Slipping her purse from her shoulder, she tossed it on the passenger’s seat and reached in blindly for her phone. She found it, lifted it and dialed Jack. It went immediately to voice mail.

After a quick disconnect, Lil, went to the last call she received. The unrecognized number. She called that number.

‘You have reached the Centers for Disease Control Atlanta, Please listen closely for our menu has changed. Press . . .’
Lil hung up and placed down the phone.

“Centers for Disease control?” she spoke aloud.

It made sense. And as the exit for the highways neared, Lil made a fast change of plans. She veered for the exit. Although she was supposed to be going to Garrick’s, until Lil heard from Jack, she decided to go south and find him.

CHAPTER TEN

 

Atlanta, GA

 

Twice Lil’s phone went directly to voicemail. Jack rationalized that she was trying to make calls and would give it another minute.

Saul stood by. Concern played over his face for Jack. “Keep trying. She’s fine.”

“I know. I feel it.” Jack lifted the phone again. He had gotten five numbers into dialing when a panicked Powers raced in.

“We have a problem.” He breathed heavily. “Secretary on the second floor is hiding in an office. Said people are going nuts trying to get her. It has to be our virus.”

Saul’s head lowered. “Dear God.

Jack brushed by. “Security room. Saul, come with me. Powers, find me Captain Long,” he yelled as he raced down the long hall.

It was a special room with eight security monitors showing the floors above. Jack was the first one there. A security guard was monitoring the activity.

“Second floor?” Jack asked. “Supposed to be activity up there.”

A few clicks of his finger and the security guard brought up a monitor. “There.” He pointed. “That has to be it.”

Ten, maybe fifteen people pounded relentlessly at one office.

Saul arrived out of breath. “Did you locate her? What’s going on?”

Jack motioned his head to the screen. “It’s them.” He checked his pistol for ammo. “I wish. I had more.”

“What are you doing?” Saul asked.

“I’m going up there to get that secretary.”

“Against that?” Saul asked. “With just a pistol?”

The security guard handed Jack his revolver. “Two.”

“Thanks,” Jack said, checking the clip on that as well. He then lifted a brad power gun. “And this, I should be good. I gotta go.” He turned again to the security guard. “Lock it all behind me. If you see anyone but me get on that elevator, power it down.”

“Will do.”

Jack grabbed a radio. “I’ll be in touch.” He turned quickly, and headed to the door. Just then Powers arrived. “Where’s Long?” Jack asked.

“Gone.” Powers replied. “And so is the boy.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

 

Interstate 85,

 

33 Miles South of Columbia South Carolina

 

Just to remain inconspicuous, Steve pulled off a lesser taken exit onto a secondary road, finding a gas station a mile down the road. The less people the better. After all, it was easy to see that something wasn’t right with Juan.

He knew with every bit of his heart that taking Juan wasn’t the right thing to do, but he had to. Things were exploding all around and quickly, too. He didn’t fear repercussion from superiors as much as he feared repercussions from God for abandoning a child, who, Steve swore, still had remnants of a soul.

With a clear conscious, Steve couldn’t end the child’s Life. He just could not do that. Knowing eventually the child would die, Steve wanted to take him far away, to the woods, and let him relinquish his life there.

Juan was a bright boy, and probably super special at one time. Steve could see it. He imagined the boy having quite the creative side, losing time and thought in playing with this cars and soldiers. A typical boy who loved the sun, playing running, and most of all loved his father.

But there was a bit more than just a twisted desire to not finish off the child. It had a lot to do with Steve’s own little brother. When Steve was thirteen and his younger brother Jimmy was six, just like Juan, Jimmy was hit by a car. For weeks, he lay in a coma. For weeks his parents agonized. Finally, they stopped life support. Steve didn’t understand it, he really didn’t. He swore up and down that Jimmy was still in there, that he wasn’t a vegetable, that he had life. His arguments to his parents were futile and they sided with the doctors. A second before Jimmy’s heart monitor went flat, the boy squeezed his mother’s hand and a single tear rolled down his face.

Jimmy was in there. He was screaming ‘no’, but it was too late.

It was a guilt Steve’s mother carried with her for a long time. A guilt he swore killed her.

Perhaps Juan was a second chance with Jimmy. Steve didn’t know, but he did know he couldn’t just put a two inch brad into the boy’s skull and not think twice about it.

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