EARTH'S SURVIVORS THE ZOMBIE KILLERS: ORIGINS
Copyright 2016 Dell Sweet
EARTH'S SURVIVORS THE ZOMBIE KILLERS: ORIGINS
Published By Wendell Sweet. All rights reserved foreign and domestic.
Portions copyright 2010, 2014, 2015 by Wendell Sweet.
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LEGAL
This is a work of fiction. Any names, characters, places or incidents depicted are products of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual living persons places, situations or events is purely coincidental.
This novel is Copyright © 2016 Wendell Sweet. Additionally, portions are copyright 2010 Wendell Sweet. All rights, digital and traditional, foreign and domestic are reserved for Wendell Sweet and his asignees. No part of this book may be reproduced by any means, electronic, print, scanner or any other means and, or distributed without the author's written permission.
Permission is granted to use short sections of text in reviews or critiques in standard or electronic print.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
FOREWORD
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
FOREWORD
The Zombie Killer books are derived from the Zombie Plagues series. Because of this, some characters from the Zombie Plagues series appear in this book. It is not necessary to read the Earth's Survivors series to understand these books, although it would enhance your reading, the two series can stand alone.
Dell Sweet 10-13-2013
EARTH'S SURVIVORS THE ZOMBIE KILLERS: ORIGINS
PROLOGUE
A meteorite that was supposed to miss the earth completely, hits and becomes the cap to a series of events that destroy the world as we know it. Police, fire, politicians, military, governments: All gone. Hopes, dreams, tomorrows: All buried in desperate struggle to survive.
From L.A. To Manhattan the cities, governments have toppled and lawlessness is the rule. For a time the dead lay in the streets while gangs fought for control of what was left, and then the dead began to rise into some other sort of life. Small groups of the living begin to band together for safety and begin to leave the ravaged cities behind in search of a future that can once again hold promise. This is the story of the OutRunners and how they came to be, start to finish.
August 4th
Plague Year One
Bear
We were down along the river checking over some old buildings that were perched on the cliffs there, high above the water. Fall was not far away and we knew we had to get moving, get out of this dead city. We had half the country to cross and find a place before winter came back around again.
We had left the others in our place off the park. An abandoned factory building I had found after I had lost Donita, and struck out looking for food earlier that morning. With the park and its crowds so near to us, the shops and small stores for blocks around us were stripped clean. Another reason to get out of the city. It was time. I remember thinking that as I walked along.
I was thinking back to March as I walked. Not really paying attention to the walk, where I was going... March... Just a few months ago, but the world was still the world then. And for the next little while we didn't even know about the dead. Dead was still dead. When you closed your eyes for the long eternal sleep you didn't wake up a short minute later as something else. No. We were ignorant up until they decided to come after us. Ignorant. Stupid. Didn't know a thing: Have a clue.
I had been in Central Park a few days after the first earthquakes hit New York. I had left Donita alone and went down on my own to see what the deal was. I found out nothing. No one knew any more than anyone else. There was a lot of speculation, but that was it. There had been earthquakes. It had rained hard for nearly twenty-four hours straight. The really freaky stuff hadn't happened yet. We were just starting down our new path, but what was clear was that thousands of people had died in the city, maybe more than thousands, maybe a million or more. And certainly millions if the damage here was the same across the country... Or, worldwide.
And my initial estimate turned out to be kind. In the city alone: Collapsed buildings: Fires; exposure to the elements because there was no shelter, there were millions of bodies. It was not so bad in those first few days, but a few days later when the smell of the dead rotting under the rubble began, it was horrible. The diseases started then too. And the diseases took thousands more, and we thought that was the end of it, but it was not. The dead came next. The same dead, newly risen to some other sort of life. But that day in Central Park I did not know about the dead yet. I had no idea what was ahead; what was before me was bad enough.
At six foot three and nearly two hundred ninety pounds I don't usually fear much. But that day I did. I realized there are some things you had better fear if you have half a brain in your head. It didn't matter that I could walk through Central Park unmolested. Something was on the wind. Something that didn't care who it touched: Did not respect physical size.
I walked through the park. There were hundreds there already. In the coming days those same people began to make the park home. But that day they wandered aimlessly. In shock. The subway was shut down, most of it flooded. The buses parked. You could not find a cab. The same with the cops. Everything that was the same about the city. The things you could depend on to be the same day after day, were gone. A few short days and they were gone. No more. And it had a feeling of permanence to it. A feeling of doom.
I sat down on a bench and watched the people shuffle by. No noisy kids. No babies bawling. No Joggers. No dog walkers. Hopeless people shuffling by. The occasional panicked whack job running around crazily. I saw no one shot that day, but in the coming days, they, the hopeless ones, began to shoot the crazies. Chase them down and kill them. But that was later. That day I sat on the bench and wondered what had happened, and that was when the planes had overflown.
We all heard them from a long way off. Military cargo planes. Slow, sometimes seeming to hang in the sky. That droning sound as they overflew, blocking the sun from the sky. This was no fly over to see how New York was, that much was evident immediately.
I was torn between running, and needing to know what this was. Once you start down that path of just reacting to fear, it gets bad fast, so I sat there, as calm as I could be. 'They will not drop bombs,' was my thought. I remember it. And they didn't. What they did was spray the entire city. Trails of blue-tinged vapor drifting down out of the sky. That was the first time.
I finally did give in to the fear and took off through the park, thinking, like nearly everyone else, that it must be some sort of poison. The government solution to whatever it was that was going on in the city.
We didn't know what the blue shit the government planes sprayed us with right after everything went to hell was. And I am still not convinced I know all there is to know, but I suspect things. I have been told things. I met a guy a few weeks back that said he worked at the Army base over in Jersey. He said he knew what it was. He said the planes came from somewhere down south, but
stopped there on the way back to re-fuel. What he told me was it was designed to strengthen us. Keep us alive a little longer. Make us stronger somehow. Some dip shit scientist's idea.
I suppose it was meant as a boost for us. A help. The world slowed down, fell apart, everything stopped working. They knew they couldn't get to us. We would die. So they sprayed the blue shit on us. And I could suppose further that some of us survived the first few months because of it. I can't prove it, but I suspect it did help us evolve into...
I don't know. Whatever the hell we are now. I know we're alive? I know our hearts beat. I still feel human and I truly think I am still human: If it made changes to the living they are very small changes... At least so far.
But the dead. Oh the dead, that is a different story. It did something else to the dead.
I walked along now thinking my thoughts. I was lost in them, I'll admit it. Right back in March for a few seconds. But I came back fast.
We were right in front of a line of cliffs that overhung the river, spread out a little, at least I was. It's funny how you can forget to be careful so goddamn fast. It was somewhere past midday when they came for us.
“Bear! Bear!”
Cammy from a hundred yards down. The panic and fear in her voice made my heart leap into my throat, and because of her fear, and probably some of my own, I did a really stupid thing right then that cost me time. I was so panicked, that I threw my rifle down and sprinted toward the sound of her voice. I got maybe twenty feet when the realization of what I had done hit me. It would have been comical to see the way I locked my legs up and tried to turn around, before I had even come to a stop, if it had not been so goddamned serious.
I had the rifle back in my hands, the safety off, just a fraction of a second later when Cammy and Madison opened up on the UN-dead closing in on them from the mouth of the narrow trail that lead up from the river. I added my fire to theirs before I had run another fifty feet, and their leader, a shambling wreck of a corpse, folded up, and then flopped over the side of the trail and down into the river. I continued to run as I fired and I was shocked to realize that I was screaming at the top of my lungs as I closed in. I am big, but I can move when I have to.
“Goddamn-son-of-a-bitching-goddamn-bastards,dead-fuckers!” All strung together. Fear words. I did not hear them at first so I did not know when they started, and I could not shut them down once I did hear them, the panic and fear were just too hot.
I watched as, unseen by Cammy and Madison, a zombie crouched on a narrow path above them swiveled his rotting head to me, seemed to take my measure with a wide, yellowed grin, and then dropped from the ledge on to Madison's back.
“No! Goddamn-son-of-a-bitches-dead-bastards-bastards!” I could not say, 'Madison Look Out!' Or speed up my feet or any other damn thing. Time had slowed, become elastic, strange, too clearly seen... The Zombie hit her hard, and she folded like an accordion: Driven into the ground, a few hundred pounds of animated corpse riding her down into the dirt. Clawed hands clutching, mouth already angling to bite... To taste her...
I was still thirty or more yards away. I could not see how that could even be possible. I should have been closer, but I was not. I saw Cammy turn, panicked, take her eyes off the other UN-dead, and start towards Madison. Unchallenged the other Zombies closed ground far faster than they should have been able to.
I saw the Zombie on Madison take a mouthful of her back, just below the curve of her neck, and rip the flesh away from her spine. Cammy's rifle came up and barked, and the zombie blew apart, raining down on Madison, a storm of black blood. Somehow, I managed to switch to full auto, get my rifle up, and spray an entire one hundred round clip into the other zombies where they rushed along the path towards Cammy and the fallen Madison.
Madison screamed. Time leapt back into its proper frame and I found myself five feet away as Madison arched her back, screamed, and tried to stand. Blood ran in a perfect river from her gaping wound, across the white of her T-Shirt and down to the waist of her jeans.
“I think... I think...” Madison tried.
“Baby... Baby,” Cammy sobbed. She dropped to her knees and pulled Madison to her. “Oh, Baby... Baby,” Cammy sobbed.
I looked back up at the trail: Empty. At least of moving UN-dead. Three or four, it was hard to tell with the tangle of legs and arms, lay dead on the pathway. Silence descended. I heard a bird in the trees above calling as if nothing was wrong with the world. Cammy sobbing. Madison crying hysterically. The wind moaning through the empty buildings that were set just back from the cliffs and the river on this side of the city.
I was thinking... 'That wind is colder. Colder even than when we started out this morning. Maybe the weather will turn back to snow and cold. Maybe winter is not done after all... Or coming sooner... It could be, it's all so screwed up. Maybe, if it does get cold, it will slow those bastards down... Maybe we will be okay... My, God, they bit Madison... They BIT Madison!!!' I sagged to the ground my mind full of confusion and numbness.
Cammy was sobbing uncontrollably, Madison had lapsed into shock. I was sitting crossed legged wondering where in Hell this would all end up, my rifle fallen from my hands and laying on the ground next to me. Time spun out: Dragged; seemed elastic once more, sticking in places and jumping ahead from those places to where it should have been had it continued to run properly.
Cammy sobbing, holding Madison up. Kissing her forehead. Telling her how much she loved her... How she was her world...
Madison... Eyes rolled back in her head... Face pale... Fine beads of sweat standing out on her forehead... Her back a bright slick of red, running across Cammy's hands where she held her. Slowing... Slowing... Cammy mouthing words in such slow motion that I could not understand what she said... Madison's body sagging, eyes rolled up to the whites... Bright dots of blood speckled across Cammy's cheeks... Then time jumped, staggered, came back to normal and Cammy was screaming and screaming...
“No! … NO! … Not my... My love, my Madison, my...” Collapsing to the ground with Madison, crying still... Softer, but continuous.
“Cammy...” My voice, but I did not know it at first. I actually stopped speaking and looked around, startled, before I realized it was me speaking. I turned my attention back to Cammy. “Cammy... Cammy, it'll be okay... It'll be...”
“NO!....NO!” She scrambled backward, pulling Madison's unconscious body with her. She wiped one hand across her eyes trying to stem the flow of tears... “NO! She's... She's okay... Okay... You can't... You...” She broke down into sobs, pulled Madison to her and began dragging her away from me.
“Cammy... Cammy, it bit her... Bit her... Cammy... Cammy, it's... It's just you and me, Cammy... It bit her... It bit her...”
She let go of Madison and lunged for her rifle. I sat, still cross legged, stupidly, as she grabbed it and leveled it at me.
“Get out,” She said very calmly. Much more calmly than I thought she should have been capable of.
“Cammy... What are you doing... Cammy?”
“GET OUT, GET OUT, GET OUT!” She screamed. I reared back as the rifle barrel came up and then slashed down across my face. I jumped back, but not fast enough. The steel barrel smashed into my lower lip, through it and then hit my teeth. I immediately tasted blood and machine oil. My tongue ran across my teeth unconsciously. I was sure she had smashed them out, but the barrel edge had come up short or I had moved back far enough. One of those things.
The pain was delayed but it came never-the-less. Hard, heavy, fast, down into my lower jaw and then ricocheted back up into the top of my head. I scrambled backwards, tripped over my own rifle, got it into my hands and then time did that funny slowing, elastic thing again.
The blood dripped from my chin onto the ground. My rifle was pointed squarely at Cammy, safety off, and an empty clip, but Cammy didn't know that. The blood dripped slowly. Cammy's eyes swam in and out of focus, but remained on me. Her rifle barrel dipped and then rose again, leveled on me once more. r />
She seemed to take a deep breath that went on forever, and then, once more, time sped up. “I'll kill you,” Cammy told me. “If you touch her, I'll kill you... I will,” She started out strong, but ended in a doubtful, whining whisper.
I didn't drop my rifle barrel but held one hand out in front of me in a placating gesture. “Not touching anyone... Not,” I managed through my busted lip and aching jaw. The pain was a live, throbbing thing.
“You will... But... I know you will... You think... You think...” She seemed all at once to realize that she no longer held Madison in her arms. She took a deep shuddering breath and then dropped her rifle to the ground. She collapsed back down to the ground and crawled to Madison’s body.
I stood. Shocked. Not knowing what to do. Time side slipped again. The bird went back to calling out; if it had ever stopped. The wind came back, blowing cold against my face, pushing the flush of heat that the situation had bought with it away, cooling the sweat on my brow. The bird called... Another picked it up and soon all the birds were talking as though nothing at all had happened. It became a perfect storm of noise after the deepness of the silence. Time slipped away again, clouds moving across the cold, blue of the sky.
Cammy sat, Madison pulled up into her lap, a large smear of maroon on her forehead, stroking Madison’s black hair. The birds called. The coldness of the wind seemed to bite at my bones. Nipping. Tasting: An UN-dead thing of its own.
I can't tell you why I did it, but I am glad I did. I pushed the button on the rifle butt, dropped the empty clip in to my waiting palm, and slid another up into the rifle where it socketed itself home with a solid click. I did it perfectly. Like I had been doing it all of my life instead of just the last few months since the UN-dead disease, epidemic, disorder, plague, what-ever-the-fuck it is that has happened. She never looked up. The birds didn't stop singing their birdsong... Just in case, I told myself. Just in case.
I stood, my knees screaming, flexed experimentally and then walked a short distance away, leaning up against the cliff face. I reached into my jacket pocket, pulled out my pouch and rolled a cigarette. I felt at my lips, busted up, but I would heal. I had been in fights in my old life where I had been busted up much worse. I lit the cigarette, held it carefully between my lips, smoking as I watched the clouds slip across the sky. Letting the urgency of the situation float away on the wind like the smoke was.
Cammy's voice had fallen to a barely audible whisper as she stroked Madison's hair and held her. Madison's lips, blue tinged, moved. Too quiet to hear her words. A private conversation. A private conversation in the wide open, which thanks to the UN-dead was a very private place. No one at all around, alive anyway, and the dead couldn't care less about love, secrets, whispered promises, goodbyes. The UN-dead only cared about the hunger that drove them. Flesh, and more flesh... The time turned elastic once more and spun out of control for some unknown length. I only know that when I came back to myself the sun had moved across the sky. My thoughts were about darkness, zombies, staying alive.
When I think back on it now, I realize a noise had brought me back. Had to be, otherwise there was no reason for me to come back at all. Just stay gone. Let the sun go down and the UN-dead take the night, me, Cammy, Madison and whatever else they wanted. But it didn't go that way...
A noise. A sliding foot. A pebble falling from above... I really don't know. I know that this time I reacted fast. My rifle came up, my mind was clear. I focused; two of them dropping from the cliffs above... Like cats... Like dead, stinking, feral cats... Dragging that stink of death with them. The stench of rotted flesh falling from the sky, enveloping me even as I fired into them.
I had a choice. I couldn't get them both. One falling at me, one falling at Cammy where she sat with Madison cradled in her arms, oblivious to everything around her. My reaction chose for me. The rifle came straight up and spat short, little barks of noise and flame. The Zombie started to come apart before it hit me. A shower of cold, dead blood rained down on me, splattered against my face. The body hit the barrel of the rifle and took me down to the ground clutching the rifle hard to keep from losing it as the full weight of the Zombie came down on it.
I kept it, but only by sheer determination. The Zombie had impaled herself onto the barrel. Her flesh so rotted that it had simply punched through her breast and out her back. I shoved her off as quickly as I could. One booted foot kicking against her chest. Knocking her apart, pulling the barrel back through the soft flesh and hard bone.
I expected to see Cammy done for. I expected to see her dead or dying, but she had somehow ended up about twenty feet from where the Zombie had fallen. She looked herself as if she had no real idea how that had happened, but when I raised my eyes and they took in the whole scene before them, I saw exactly how it had happened.
Madison must have still been awake. Laying there badly injured, but not gone. Taking the comfort from Cammy that she offered: When the Zombie fell she saw it and managed to push Cammy away from her and take the attack on herself.
The Zombie was no match for her, wounded though she was. She straddled the Zombie with a rock easily the size of her own head and bought it down hard. Once. Twice, and then I lost count, and the Zombie quit fighting. The UN-dead, dead again. This time for good.
The silence came back hard. Like a curtain on the last act of a play, just when the audience isn't expecting it. It crashed down.
Time did it's elastic trick and then snapped back before I was ready for it. My senses were shot. At first I could not connect the dots of memory that I needed to connect to make sense of what my eyes were seeing.
Cammy rose to shaky legs and started toward Madison, sobbing once more. Madison’s eyes swiveled to me. A sick look in them and pain riding there too. She slumped forward, one wrist flapping uselessly and lunged for the rifle that Cammy had, had trained on me not so long ago. Time stopped its elastic trickery right around that time. I knew exactly what she intended to do before she did it.
Cammy stopped in mid stride and nearly fell backwards at the effort of stopping so quickly. I think she believed for a second that Madison intended to shoot her. I really believe she thought that. But that was not the plan, and I knew that was not the plan. Because the plan that had resurfaced in her mind was the one we had talked about, half seriously, half jokingly, for as long as we had been traveling together. Before she followed through on that plan I heard her tell it to me in my mind once again, the way she had a week or so before. When she had been unmolested... Whole... Not about to join the ranks of the UN-dead herself.
“If I ever fuckin' have to, I won't hesitate,” Madison had said, “Once I'm dead I don't want to come back.” She shuddered and grimaced at the same time.
We had been in an old house over in Harlem. That was before Harlem got crazy too. We had had gas lanterns for light. The windows were boarded over. The UN-dead scratched and cried and pleaded, but they could not get in. The four of us-John had still been alive then, in fact he had died just a few hours later... Fell through a rotted section of floor in that same old house... Impaled himself on a pipe in the basement... Madison had shot him in the head nearly as soon as he had stopped his struggles.
“He would have expected it,” she had said, and nothing more. But that night... That night she had said it right out. Like a mantra. Like looking into the future and seeing this day.
“If they come for me? If they get me? I'll put a bullet in my own head. I will. I swear I will. If I ever fuckin' have to, I won't hesitate,” Madison had said, “Once I'm dead I don't want to come back.”
And Cammy had begun to cry. “Don't say it, Maddie... Don't say it.” And she hadn't said it again, but it didn't matter. She had already spoke it into truth. I had heard it. I had heard it and I knew she meant it.
And now... Time stopped it's trick. She jammed the rifle under her chin and squeezed the trigger... Her head exploded in a spray of red and gray. I swear I could hear the sounds of small bits of bone and drops of b
lood pattering down to the ground. And then the silence was roaring again.
I took a breath, another... And then Cammy began to scream once more...