Zombie Infestation Read online

  Chapter 1

  Colonel Harrison rolled his eyes and exhaled as he folded his thick muscled arms across his barrel of a chest. Again, Captain Ricks scanned the other unit commanders for the slightest visual sign of their support. Instead, each of them stared down at the large map spread across the table in front of them.

  Visibly annoyed, Captain Ricks said, “It sucks our chopper went down, and our team got stranded, but they don’t have to wait long before we eventually sweep that part of the city. Why are you hiring contractors for this? As I mentioned before, over in Kabul I worked with several expensive Blackstone teams, which were always staffed with renegades, outlaws, and military rejects.”

  Harrison locked eyes with him. “I respect your opinion, but I don’t need advice on how to run my operation. No matter what, no one gets left behind. Your job is to follow my orders, not to give advice.”

  Ricks pursed his lips and grit his teeth as he pretended to stare at a location on the map with earnest.

  Harrison glared at him as he said, “Is that clear captain?”

  The portable radio on the table beeped.

  Without blinking, Ricks looked up.

  “Yes sir. I will strengthen our Western perimeter defenses and await further orders.”

  He held his salute longer than usual, then left the tent. When the other field commanders left, only Sergeant Ramirez and the Harrison remained. Just as the radio beeped again, Harrison reached forward and snatched it off the table.

  The voice on the other end of the radio crackled. “Holy Ghost? Do you copy?”

  Harrison squeezed the reply button, “Roger, this is Holy Ghost go ahead.”

  The radio chirped, “The pathfinders have signed the treasure map, and will arrive momentarily.”

  When he turned around, an entourage of armed soldiers arrived. Escorted by multiple soldiers, a small woman and four bulky men were dressed in cave black, with thick Kevlar vests, and helmets with mounted night vision visors attached. Each of their ammo pockets were stuffed, but every holster on them was empty.

  Harrison said, “You must be the Blackstone group.”

  There was a long awkward pause, then one of the beefy men took off his helmet. His black bald head glistened with sweat. He said, “Do I look like Santa Claus?”

  The woman in their group smirked. No one else in the room had a visible reaction to the comment.

  Emotionless, Harrison placed his palms onto the giant map on the table, and continued as if nothing was even said.

  “You must be Jefferson.”

  He pointed at the man next to him and said, “Jacques.”

  When he pointed to the man next to him he said, “Nate.”

  He shifted to the next man and said, “Ray”

  “And you are Rose.”

  “Is that right?”

  None of them acknowledged him.

  “Since you signed the NDA, and saw photos of each member of the stranded team can get right to the point.”

  The Blackstone team remained inscrutable.

  “Welcome to New Middlesbrough. The population here was approximately 120,000 until it was overrun by infected undead.”

  Harrison pointed at the map on the table.

  Then said, “Being deep in the heart of hill billy bum fuck Appalachia nowhere, you can also expect armed civilian resistance.”

  Rose interrupted, “Hillbilly bum fuck?” Her thick Georgia accent made it obvious she was offended by his choice of words. Nate, an Alabama native, glared at Colonel Harrison, but held back from commenting. The other members of the Blackstone team were inscrutable.

  Ramirez said, “Obviously, during the legal briefing, they learned how this charming town somehow experienced a once in a lifetime epidemic.”

  Harrison grit his teeth.

  Rose inquired, “Feel free to elaborate on the infected part.”

  Without hesitation Ramirez said, “Most of the citizens of New Middlesbrough have been afflicted with an incurable reanimation disease, which causes them to rise from the dead. Once the zombie transformation occurs it is irreversible.”

  For a moment, he scanned the Blackstone team for a reaction.

  “The CDC has confirmed this condition is caused by blood contact with an infected. Those afflicted actively attempt to convert others through blood contact or cannibalistic activities.”

  The team’s inscrutable demeanor changed to visible anger.

  Ramirez continued. “Therefore, any inflicted you encounter must be put down will lethal force, and with no quarter.”

  Chapter 2

  There was an awkward silence. Then Rose said, “Ain’t no fucking way we signed up to fight thousands of undead Americans.” The others nodded in agreement as if they were all connected. “Taking our weapons from us was smart, but it don’t mean we can’t find you later, and fuck all y’all up then.”

  Harrison remained calm. He scanned each member of the Black Stone team as he said, “Certainly you noticed the non-disclosure agreement you signed was far more robust than usual.”

  The team had no response.

  “Since New Middlesbrough is under quarantine, and technically under Marshall Law, your agreement falls under military law. That NDA waived your First Amendment rights. Therefore, any breach is unlawful and will result in immediate jail time.”

  Now the Blackstone team appeared dejected.

  Harrison continued. “The payment is five times your normal fee. You won’t be exterminating any hordes, or doing any infantry work. All you need to do is provide support to an isolated unit. If you are any good, you could get in and out without killing anything.”

  Rose glanced over at her team.

  Harrison scratched at the stubble on his chin. Then he said, “The real challenge is, do you want to ship out to a military prison, and spend time there until a court date is made available? Or do you want to head over to the armory and get paid?”

  When the team ignored him and gathered in a corner of the room. Harrison raised his voice to ensure that he was heard. “I will give you five minutes to decide the most suitable outcome.”

  As a special ops veteran, Jefferson was calm and unfazed. The others didn’t hide their anxiety well. “This is fucked up, but I can’t say no to the pay.”

  He moved in closer and lowered his voice.

  “Within 24 hours, Harrison’s wave of death will sweep all of this town dead. Whether the targets live or die. We get paid either way.”

  Rose said, “Everyone heard about what happened to your family. I know you need the money, but we need to think this gig through.”

  Jefferson clenched his fist. “Seriously, I think we can do this. It’s a weird gig, but it is really just another search and rescue mission.”

  Next to him, Ray stared at the ground as if he was alone in a field. By trade, he was a technology specialist and a lock pick. Like Jefferson he was also a combat veteran. Only his path diverged after committing a serious mishap in Afghanistan and being discharged. Devastated, he became a homeless alcoholic. During this phase of his otherwise distinguished life, he became a burglar, and spent three years in prison. Ray was quiet, so no one on the team knew much about his lamentable background.

  Jacques put his hand on Ray’s shoulder. “What do you think?”

  He just shrugged.

  Nate was not as reserved. “Seeing we ain’t got much choice, it’s easier to do, than not do. Even though some evil political faction is going to benefit from this, I ain’t spending no time in jail.”

  To strangers, Nate described himself as “an ass kicking Alabama conservative.” To the dismay of his colleagues, and unprovoked, he often shared his political viewpoints. When he was not
prognosticating political agendas, he was telling another story about being a cop, or having a one sided conversation with Jesus.

  Jacques’ mom pronounced his name as “Jack” and so did everyone else. Also like her, none of his family or peers couldn’t explain why he joined Black Stone. From a distance, he looked like an NFL player. If he hadn’t blown out his knee surfing the week before, he signed an NFL contract with the Oakland Raiders, he would probably be one. After his injury, he struggled while he discovered his lack of marketable skills, which was his catalyst for joining the Army.

  There, he became a specialist at many things, but most of his training was for demolitions. Being too good at his assigned task, there wasn’t much left to explode. Near the end of his tour he became part of a tank crew. Despite his competitive love for combat, he didn’t re-enlist. Instead, he chose to return home and become part of the LAPD. As a former All-American all sport athlete he still remained just as obsessed with sports and competition, as Nate was with his politics.

  As usual, Jacques sounded like a reasonable diplomat. “This is certainly not a normal gig. However, there are plenty of reasons why this gig makes sense. The pay will be more than we can make in two years.”

  He glanced over at Jefferson.

  “Like Jeff said, essentially it is a search and rescue. Whether we locate the target or not, in 24 hours this place is going to be turned over.”

  When Jacques cracked his neck, the sound made most of the team cringe.

  Standing next to the others, Rose looked tiny. Yet based on what they had seen her do, they all would agree she was easily the most lethal of the group. Anyone in Blackstone who had served in Iraq had heard about “Red Dot Rose” the decorated sniper with 40 confirmed kills. Word had also spread about what happened when her commanding officer when he attempted to sexually assault her. He now gets to use handicapped parking. When Blackstone recruited her, she was doing contact hits for blackmarket mobsters.

  She took ownership of whatever team she was on, and this one was no different. Now that everyone had commented she shared her thoughts. “The undead shit is fucked up, and it definitely makes it easier for us to get killed. However, we all know what can happen on any gig. If the targets were worthless we wouldn’t be here.”

  Ray looked disappointed.

  Rose said, “Mainly, I would rather go to hell than to any kind of jail.”

  Ray interjected. “You guys have some valid points, but I still want to walk.”

  Rose responded, “Have fun in jail.”

  Looking perplexed, Jacques stared down at her as he said, “I thought you said fuck this one. A few minutes ago, you want to fuck up the commander?”

  She grinned. “I did say that, but now it’s time.”

  Jefferson asked, “Time for what?”

  “To ask for more money,” said Rose.

  Nate laughed out loud.

  Chapter 3

  As they walked to the Armory, Rose reviewed the ingress chopper ride in her mind. The fortified base was on high ground and the imposing cliff behind it only allowed for a frontal attack. Behind the outermost rings of darkened trenches, were two divisions of Abrams tanks, which were deployed in a wide formation to cover their flanks. Matching pairs of snipers were posted on top of each. Beyond these meat eating defenses, there were probably mines.

  The inner array of guard towers had spokes of matching machine gun and mortar nests every twenty yards or so along the perimeter wall, which made it appear impregnable. Next to the entrance of the stronghold were even more massive machine gun nests. Not only was the base heavily fortified, it had the right troop concentration assembled for a large scale invasion.

  As the team walked behind Ramirez, the well lit camp allowed them to analyze the operations of the camp. Any invader, alive or dead, would be forced into one of the many bottle necks where any number of gathered weaponry would shred them in seconds. Whether the undead were witless or formidable, they didn’t stand a chance against an organized force like this. The rumbling sounds in the distance sounded like Zeus wrestling. Ramirez stopped under the spotlights of the armory.

  Nate said, “All bowed up and ready to strike.”

  No one responded, and there was a long awkward pause.

  “Whenever you are ready, I will be inside,” said Ramirez.

  Jefferson commented. “Why do you think they called Blackstone? They have plenty of firepower, and access to special forces too.”

  Ray said, “Maybe they are spread too thin, or need to be deployed elsewhere? It doesn’t matter. What they are paying me will cover my mom’s cancer treatments for the year.”

  Rose soft voice cut in. “What if they don’t expect us to come back? If they never have to cut the check, it doesn’t matter what amount of money they promise.”

  Each of them looked reflective.

  She smirked.

  Then said, “You guys are so fucking gullible. We can totally do this. Now let’s go inside and get Rambodexterous.”

  Inside of the armory, Ramirez leaned against one of the giant cases of weapons. Behind him, typical rows of racked weapons covered each wall. Every member of the Blackstone team gazed at the array with earnest awe.

  Ramirez said, “I know you have some preferences, but have tactical field experience with these things.”

  Rose said, “Are we really facing zombies?”

  Ramirez ignored her and reached into a locker. Then handed them each a belt with two holstered machetes.

  Then he said, “The only way to stop these things is a double tap or decapitation. Silent killers like these will work way better than any rifle or silenced pistol.”

  He pointed to the handles.

  “Those are reinforced, but can still break, so try to slash more than hack or stab. If you can, limit your encounters.”

  As some of the team inspected the long blades he provided. He handed over some smoke grenades.

  “Take these too.”

  After they stashed those, he handed them a small tube and said, “I suggest you mount this on the barrel of your weapon.”

  When Jefferson did so, he activated it. They all squinted and took notice of the slow flashing strobe.

  “There is no way I am using this shit,” said Jefferson as he switched it off.

  “You may be tempted to skirmish, but I advise you not to engage anyone. If you attract a horde, be fast, and quickly wicked, and then run. Only use the strobe if you get trapped.”

  Jefferson’s sweaty forehead crinkled and his tight squint revealed his disagreement. “Run?”

  Ramirez nodded with earnest as he said, “Most of the 120,000 people who lived in New Middlesbrough are infected, the rest will be hostile. The CDC classifies the undead from level 1 to level 4. Level 1 are recently turned. Those ones are the most dangerous because they are fast, ferocious, tough to eliminate, and often work in groups. Level 4 are the older ones. They are handicapped by decay, or mangled, and are usually slow. Level 4 are weak, and easy to outrun or kill, but deadly in numbers.”

  With her arms across her chest, Rose’s posture revealed her mistrust. “I was just in Rileyville, which is two towns away, and there was not one undead in sight. How is this virus contained?”

  Ramirez responded. “There are two fire breathing battalions on each side of New Middlesbrough.”

  Rose looked around.

  He then said, “Harrison commands Company A here, and Colonel Lexington commands Company B. With this deployment structure, each line moves forward and creates a new beach head with a clean zone from them to their command base. No flanks are ever exposed for any undead to slip through.”

  Jefferson interrupted. “Like Hannibal’s crescent attack.”

  Rose looked down abruptly and then said, “Is this an isolated incident? Or have you performed this strategy before?”

  Ramirez answered her without delay. “This is an isolated incident, and must be quelled with urgency.”
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  Rose said, “I don’t believe you.”

  Ramirez ignored her and continued. “New Middlesbrough has undergone severe violence, and has lost most of its citizens from this epidemic. Any citizens who survive the outbreak will sign the same NDA that you did before they enter witness protection. You are green lighted to clear any resistance you encounter without any legal repercussions.”

  He then tossed each of them each some burnt black neck protection, which matched their black knee and elbow pads as well as their SWAT style outfits and gear.

  Rose still appeared annoyed.

  Ramirez said, “When the dead reanimate, they become cannibals, and continue existence regardless of the damage they take. None of them are people anymore, so show no quarter. We execute them by stopping their brain activity. You have never faced anything like this before.”

  Jefferson said, “Is this enough ammo?”

  Ramirez responded, “If you do this right you will have way more ammo than you need. Soldiers of your caliber should be able to get to the crash site with minimal noise and contact.”

  As the team continued to adjust their gear, Ramirez pulled out a handheld device. The bright screen revealed the small mole on his cheek as he scrolled. After his thumbs tapped out a quick message on the tiny electronic keys he said, “Okay, briefing starts in 5 minutes.” Then as if he had pressed a special button on his device, two soldiers appeared. “It is go time. Grab the care packages I left for you, then please follow us to the staging point.”

  Chapter 4

  With Blackstone, there was never a squad leader. Most of the people who did well there were anti-authoritarian types or outcasts. Conversely, every contractor expected orders and knew those were a key component to success. Everyone on the assembled team understood the required creed. As they walked toward the front gate Ramirez said, “I suggest you check your helmet comlinks for functional deficiencies.”

  As usual, Ray was silent. When Jacques slapped him on the back, he groaned into his comlink.