Zombie Battle (Books 1-3): Trinity (20 page)

“Second squad follow me, Stat!” Jack yelled. He charged about ten cars in and then he stopped. At first the word ‘no’ just slipped from his lips in his shock, then everything came into focus.

About the time Jack saw it, so did the people in the cars.

Those stuck behind a long line of traffic bolted from their vehicles, causing more problems for Jack.

They brushed into him in their panicked run. Some cars just sped off.

It was like a tidal wave. Long, thick and unstoppable. Only it wasn’t water. It was the undead.

They came from the direction of the city barreling through the long line of traffic. As on a mission, they were nimble as they charged fast and furiously.

They didn’t move like the ones Jack saw in Peru, these ones jumped on cars, violently sought their victims and pursued their prey with speed and agility.

“What the fuck?” Jack yelled as he jumped on top of an SUV and then standing on the roof. “Take them down!” Jack ordered. “Aim for the head! Aim for the head!”

He fired. But the wall of undead drew closer. They dragged people from cars, pouncing on those who ran. And those who were left mired in a blood bath didn’t take long to reanimate and join forces.

Hundreds?

Thousands?

They kept coming.

Horrid screams of the victims filled the air.

Children’s cries, so many children cried and screamed out.

The sounds went through Jack like a dagger.

As hard as it was for Jack to admit, he and his men were outnumbered.

He kept firing, but it was useless. Even the best marksman couldn’t take them all down. Jumping over the tops of the vehicles, Jack radioed for air support in the situation. Then doing something he never in his life thought he’d do, Jack called his men and ordered a retreat.

<><><><>

Saul didn’t need Jack’s report to give him insight. It was information he already knew, but he listened as if Jack were telling him something new.

“And they run, Saul. They run. I don’t know if they’re fast, or it’s my perception,” “And the kids. The kids that turned, they aren’t like Juan.”

“Where are you heading now, Jack?” Saul asked on the phone.

“I don’t know. North. Some town. Closer to Lil.”

“Make sure you get there.”

“I will. But not without you.”

“I’ll …. I’ll get there,” Saul said. They spoke some more then Saul ended the call. He didn’t convey to Jack his uncertainty of making it to his wife.

And Saul was very uncertain.

CDC brought undead in. Saul heard rumors of infections within the city, but they weren’t confirmed. He looked at the map. It didn’t look that bad to him. In fact he recalled in the past, cases of Swine flu that lit up the infection map a lot brighter. But then Saul, taking in the unconfirmed reports, added them into the computer system and a massive change transpired on the map.

The United States map looked like the face of teenager. It went from just a few blemishes to a full-blown case of acne.

And it was frightening, because Saul knew how fast it spread. Quarantining the living that had been bit wasn’t going to cut it; He had to implement a wide scale plan to handle them once they died.

He’d issue recommendation to ‘spare’ the living before they died, but if Saul himself couldn’t do that to his daughter, he couldn’t expect others to do it as well.

Saul was a realist. If things were not capped and contained soon, then with the Faberge effect, the virus that hit American soil would escalate from a simple invasion to a full blown war.

A battle that once it would hit a certain level would be virtually unwinnable.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

100 Miles off the coast of Virginia

She made it.

As the Captain of her vessel, Marlene knew she had to be the one to get supplies for the eight people out of 120 who remained alive in the submarine control room.

She didn’t leave alone, but she returned that way. Having lost a seaman to one of them just outside the galley.

How it got to that point she still didn’t know.

She was rustled form her sleep a couple days earlier about the seaman who was bit. When the doctor failed to return to the control, Marlene sought him out and found him.

He was mutilated; the entire back of his skull was missing, including his brains.

She called for help, but had to rush from the sick bay when she herself was nearly attacked.

But that was just at sickbay. Someone infected had gotten into one of the sleeping quarters and had themselves a hum dilly of a time in there with just a few of the sleeping seaman. Then they of course were infected and within hours, the entire Bay One sleeping area was swarming with the undead.

Marlene, of course thought it was some sort of rabies and sealed the sleeping quarters.

Those who fought the infected and were injured were quarantined.

Her mistake.

 They eventually turned too.

Things got out of control, until only those who remained sought refuge and security in the control room.

But supplies were limited and that was why Marlene left.

At first the cameras showed no one was in the hall outside the control room door. That happened. They’d swarm there, then move on.

She found her opportunity in one of those empty hall moments and went out.

She returned alone with a box in hand. Barely escaping the undead.

In fact, an arm frantically reached in the door for her just before it was severed from its owner when the door sealed.

Out of breath, Marlene watched the arm on the floor.

“Where’s Daniels?” her executive officer asked. “What happened?”

“He didn’t make it.” Marlene set down the box. “They got him. I was lucky to get free.”

“We have got to get off of this sub,” Harold said.

“We will. We will.” Marlene said assuredly.

“When?” Harold asked. “What did the admiral say? Surely he can’t expect us to stay on this ship with the infected. Eventually we’ll get infected ourselves if this thing mutates to an airborne state.”

Marlene didn’t answer. She rummaged through the box. “I got us water and some dry goods …” Her entire topic of conversation switched.

“Captain?” Harold stepped to her. “When you had radio contact yesterday. I heard you. You picked up the phone …” Harold backed off with a shocked expression. “Dear God. It was a ruse.”

Marlene ignored him.

“Captain. You haven’t let the authorities know, have you?”

Nothing.

“Have you?”

“No!” she snapped. “And I won’t. Because once I do, you can bet they’ll put out the order to take us out.”

“How do you know?”

“”We’re carrying an infectious disease that is unlike anything we’ve seen. It’s something from the movies. They’ll take us out. I know.” she said. “Because if I were them, I would.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

North Carolina

Garrick assured Irma it was fine. He assured her that his property was private property and tucked away where the general public couldn’t find them, let alone infected. And even if the undead walked their way to the fortress, there was no way they were getting in.

Garrick didn’t just have a plan ‘A’ and ‘B’, he had a C, D, E, and F.

The visions of her daughter Sara, bleeding on that floor, crying out for her, were still so fresh in her mind. Her heart carried a heaviness that Irma knew would never go away. Nor would the sadness ever leave her. But Irma was fortunate in one regard, she had a part of her daughter in the form of her surviving toddler son.

Jerry asked for ‘Mama’, but accepted the response that his mom was busy or was with Pap. But no matter what excuse Irma gave Jerry for his mother’s absence, she followed it with how much she loved Jerry.

Despite Jerry’s lighter hair which was similar to his father’s, Irma saw Sara all over his face.

But Jerry was a child, a toddler who was rambunctious and full of energy.

“Take him outside, let him run,” Garrick suggested.

“I can’t.” Irma said. “They may be out there.”

“And I am in here. A shout away. You have a pretty study fence and wall around there. Stay near the door,” Garrick assured.

Irma took his words as Gospel and took Jerry outside. She stayed not far from the door, which Garrick left open for her piece of mind.

The property wasn’t entirely surrounded by a wall. Most of it was a fence. But it wasn’t a normal link fence. It was strong and thick. And that gave Irma reassurance.

It was warm and quiet outside, Irma hadn’t packed any toys so Jerry’s amusement devices were limited. Garrick had given him a baseball, which Jerry rolled and chased.

He giggled and kicked the ball.

Irma kept him in her eyesight. “Get the ball, baby, throw it to Ya-Ya.”

“Ball.” He tried to throw it. Laughed when Irma missed. “Ball,” He said again, holding out his hands.

Irma lightly tossed it his way. Jerry missed then pushed the ball with his foot. Another giggle and Jerry trotted a few steps.

He stopped and reached down.

“Boy.”

“Boy?” Irma laughed. “No Ball.”

“Boy.” Jerry pointed.

Irma looked.

“Nothing new?” Lil asked, accepting a cup of coffee from Garrick.

“Just the same, rumors have it they shut Atlanta down. It got bad.”

“Oh, God.” Lil covered her face. “I wish I’d hear from Jack.”

“Give it …”

“Garrick!” Irma’s shout carried into the house. The frantic tone of it left no room for Garrick to wonder if something was amiss. He set down his coffee and raced outside.

Lil followed.

No sooner did Garrick step outside and see Irma, he slid to a stop reaching for his weapon.

A child stood on the other side of the fence, just staring, but it was no normal child. Clearly the boy was one of the undead.

“Step back,” Garrick instructed and raised his weapon.

Lil gasped and Irma whimpered out an ‘Oh my God.”

“Wait!” a voice called from the distance. “Don’t shoot. Garrick, please don’t shoot him!”

A rustle of leaves from running feet and a soldier appeared. “Please.”

Garrick kept aim. “Step away from him. Can’t you see? He’s one of them!”

“But he’s not like them. Trust me. I know. I know.” He put a protective arm in front of the child. “See he’s not even biting me.”

Irma’s grasped onto Jerry and covered her mouth. “He’s just a little boy, Garrick.”

“His name is Juan.” The soldier said.

 Without lowering his aim and staying focused on the boy, Garrick said, “You named him?”

“No it was his name before he turned.”

“He’s still one of them. And you brought him here, Steve?”

“Yes, I thought …”

“Mother fucker!” Garrick was ready to shoot.

“Please. No.” Steve begged. “Please. Listen to me.”

“Garrick?” Lil stepped forward. “Do you know him?”

“Yeah,” Garrick nodded. “This is Steve. He’s my brother.”

Lil walked up behind Garrick and gently laid her hand on his forearm speaking soft near his ear. “Then you need to lower your weapon. Hear what your brother has to say. Ok?” She waited. “Garrick.”

After some hesitation, Garrick said. “It better be good,” And he lowered his weapon.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Washington DC

Secretary of Defense, General Lance received word from the Admiral of the Navy about the Los Angeles attack class sub positioned off shore of Virginia.

It was there as instructed and up until an hour before, everything was thought to be fine.

They were going to be on sea control in their own home territory. But a simple radio check sent warnings off to the communication officer and he relayed them to the Admiral.

The Captain was doing her mid-day check-in and just as everything was seemingly fine and routine; the communications officer heard a voice in the background. An arguing voice simply stating, ‘tell the truth. We aren’t …’

Transmission ended abruptly.

They hadn’t reached the submarine since.

Was everything really fine or was there a mechanical problem on the ship? The communications officer searched further into earlier communications with the submarine and found that the ship’s doctor reported five days earlier on his medical report that he had one injured man who had come aboard the submarine with a bite wound.

It was missed.

Lance knew as soon as he saw the report. Something had to be done.

“You’re overreacting.” Don tried to reason with him. “Why would the ship’s doctor not get back to us with regard to the health bulletin we sent out?”

“Maybe he’s dead.” Lance replied. He paced around in the warn room at the pentagon; he and the Secretary of Health, the only two in there.

The White House was cleared since the incident days earlier and Washington was fast becoming a ghost town.

“There have been no reports of death,” Don said. "They have to report them.”

“She’s covering up.”

“Why?”

“Why not?” Lance shrugged. “She knows damn well we will not give her permission to come ashore and more than likely we will label them as a threat. She knows this.”

“So what do we do?”

After thinking for a moment, Lance ran his hand over his face and grabbed the phone. “This is Lance,” he spoke into the phone. “I need a line to that sub. Donnie and I are on our way. Thank you.”

“Communications room?” Don asked.

Lance simple nodded, grabbed his folder of notes and he and Don left to make contact with the submarine.

<><><><>

Jack thought he was going to Washington, instead, after the retreat from Atlanta, Jack was on the road north. He and a group of twenty soldiers were being moved to a small town five miles north of Charlotte. A rescue operation. A distress call had come from the police station in town, merely stating they had a dozen or so, uninjured people trapped there and needing help.

Jack and his men were Special Forces. An small elite group sent in.