Chapter Seven
The Nuclear Solution
The video that Logan had sent to Abraham went viral in less than a day. The first reported case of the dead rising had been captured on video for the world to see. At least what had been left of it. The flu had killed millions already. Thousands upon thousands were buried in mass graves along the countries of the world. Hundreds washed up on every beach, of every shoreline, at every tide.
And suddenly they had started to walk. They had started to hunt the last of the surviving humans, hungry for fresh untainted flesh. The virus had a new way to spread. The airborne version had reached its peak and infected all that had been possible. Bacteria in the mouth of the walking carrier became the new method of transmission. There was no more need for the rabies like character or even the flu at all. The virus acted faster than ever as it took a new stage in its mutation, making those symptoms redundant, and those methods of transmission useless.
In the first few hours of the video being posted to the web, some people called Logan an information terrorist and condemned him for faking the whole thing. That kind of reaction could be forgiven, given what the video demanded people to believe. The images spread through the internet like a plague of its own.
Irony would have it, but that became the last episode of the digital age. It didn’t take long at all for the technology to collapse, before the power went down, and the monsters weren’t just images on a TV or phone screen. They, instead, were crashing through the windows and through the doors of those in hiding and those trying to get on with life regardless.
They were chasing people down the streets and through the woods. They tore through the world like they did the flesh of their victims. It was like wildfire. It took only a week for the army to fall into disarray. The United States Army anyway. They suffered desertion, suicide, group suicide, and lost hundreds and hundreds every day as they fought to contain the armies of the dead.
They had no battle plan, no organization, and little leadership. The book had been thrown out of the window the second the first flu victim arose from death. The armies of the world weren’t fighting a traditional, human, enemy. Just a never ending stream of walking corpses that clogged any war machine put in its place.
A missile could destroy a group of them but there were always more. A tank could stand up to them with brute force. But the monsters could throw themselves into their tracks with no hesitation. Sure enough the tank could turn one of them into a bloody soup with its sharp rotating tracks. But not seven, or ten, or thirty, all slamming against it at once. That was enough to jam it and burn out the motor.
No amount of bullets could stop the never ending stream and no amount of discipline could keep a soldier standing and fighting when Hell rose up from beneath the Earth to hunt, and eat, all that they held close. No man could shoot his turned children. No wife her turned husband.
Logan had fled back to Alaska and the WDC after the initial outbreak in England. The virus, once an obscure flu crossed with Rabies, had reacted the same way everywhere else and had evolved across the same lines throughout the world. Every nation on Earth, from that first day when the dead stood to walk, started reporting identical incidents.
When he had left for England the first cases of flu had been reported in New York City. But there the outbreak had been different. It had been fast. It hadn’t been the same creeping death of a fast burning flu that killed mercilessly. Once the first fatalities were reported the victims had awoken quickly and began tearing at the flesh of the living.
Logan and Abraham had been researching tirelessly for a solution ever since. Hidden away in the snow covered lab far away from civilization. There was no precedent for it though so their efforts had come to nothing. Nothing ever before seen in the history of the Earth had been anything like it. They decided to take a break and left the stifling air of the lab and made for the roof for some cold reflection.
Abraham knew Logan was fuming but couldn’t get it out of him why. Conversation with him had become difficult and Abraham could sense Logan wanted to get back into the world.
‘As much as I hate to say this General, I think we need to switch our tactics.’ Abraham was wrapped up in a thick white coat. He gripped a warm cup of coffee, made from frozen beans, tightly in his palms. He slurped the bitter liquid between his thin, cracked lips with an irritating gargle.
He had his hood up and looked like a polar bear. He had thick boots on and warm black gloves too. He was staring into the sunset on the roof of the WDC complex in Alaska. It had been three weeks since Logan returned from England. He had been distant, though thoughtful, since returning. He had never opened up to Abraham about how he felt guilty and how he thought he had let himself, and everyone who could have counted on him, down.
But his rage burning inside was transparent. His responses were short and his voice was lowered an octave. He was angry even in the way he walked. A longer stride and tensed muscles all over his body. He gritted his teeth and tightened his chin to hold back an outburst but he was furious inside.
‘Why?’ He was pacing the rooftop with his hands on his hips. His thumbs were tucked under his belt and he brushed them, every few seconds, past the barrels of his guns. He had been keeping his guns close since he returned from England. He had found a big and heavy leather jacket in his old office that was brown in color and fake fur lined. He couldn’t remember having ever worn it but it still had gold stars sewn into the shoulders. He had it zipped and buttoned it right to the top but had nothing else to protect himself from the piercing cold.
‘The virus.’ Abraham began. The General stopped to glance at him but quickly turned back to walking from one end of the roof and impatiently back to the other.
‘I can’t stop it.’ Abraham admitted. He was relieved and felt liberated of the weight of the task in admitting that it had him beaten. Logan was in no mood to reply so Abraham filled the silence with his own thoughts. He liked Logan, looked up to him, and quickly considered him a friend.
‘We’ve spent days now trying to figure out the virus, find an anti-virus, and put an end to it and it has us beat. We need to get on the defensive and think about containment.’ Logan remembered that the Doctor was not only one of the world’s foremost experts on biological warfare but was also an expert in disaster management and containment. Maybe he had a point. He broke his ritualistic silence and decided to entertain Abraham.
‘The virus is everywhere. How do we contain something like that?’ Logan stopped walking, tightened the muscles around his shoulders, and turned to face the sunset by Abraham’s side. He watched as the vapor from his breath tumbled up into the air and watched it as it dispersed slowly.
‘Does that mean we don’t try?’ Abraham didn’t get angry at Logan’s hostility. For all anyone could tell, they might be the last two people left on the Earth, stood right there on that spot and wondering about how to save the world that had already died. Logan didn’t respond for just a moment. It was that last question. Does it mean that they stop trying?
That was exactly why he was angry at himself. Because he had stopped trying back in England. Right then he realized why he came back from retirement. He immediately remembered one of his core beliefs, one that had driven him through his entire life as he could remember it. Just because the odds are stacked high against you doesn’t mean that you stop trying. Just because they were faced with fighting a losing battle didn’t mean they didn’t fight anyway.
Logan thought hard about the world beyond the lab and hoped this would give him a chance to get back into it. He felt useless, redundant, and utterly outmatched by Abraham’s intellect. He was a far better scientist and had a much sharper mind for medicine. Logan was better suited to the outside world. Only there could he begin to assuage his throbbing guilty conscience. He rose to that idea.
‘It has to be New York then.’ He re-introduced himself back into the conversation.
‘What?’ Abraham had all but
forgotten what he said. ‘Why?’
‘We should try to contain New York because it’s the most hopeless case. The outbreak there occurred as the virus mutated and the dead started rising.’ Logan relaxed a little and his harsh voice softened as he finished his sentence.
He was sincere though. They had watched the whole thing happen through the screens of those monitors down in the lab. The news stations there had stayed online for a while, and had broadcast scenes of violence and horror through the airwaves, of the lethal outbreak that New York had experienced. They had watched their real time map constantly update as New York slowly went dark and stopped responding to any radio traffic. Logan had been infuriated the whole time. He wanted so badly to just get back on the ground and try to save people. But Abraham had insisted they just try to solve it from above a microscope.
Abraham was far too intelligent to not sense Logan‘s intentions. He didn‘t know details but for the sake of their fledgling friendship he entertained the idea.
‘New York is enormous, Logan, how can we even begin to lock it down and the start saving anyone who might have made it this long?’ The sun had just about slipped below the icy horizon at this point in their meeting. It shimmered along the white coast and glared into the night sky as a last few moments of light embers scattered across the snowfields.
‘That’s why we have to go there. It is the most hopeless fight we have left. Even if it’s just for the sake of hope, and letting the world know that there still is some, then New York has to be the target.’ His impassioned speech awoke them both from their states of depression and hopelessness. Abraham raised an eyebrow and opened his mouth to start talking.
‘We blow the bridges, from the air, that connect Long Island to the rest of the city. We sink depth charges into the Hudson River to take out the tunnels and cut off the island. Any survivors on the other side of those bridges would flee not to the city but away from it anyway so collateral damage will be minimal if not zero. Then we erect a containment curtain and screen any survivors who pass by at the connecting freeways out of the city to the north.’ Abraham hashed out a pretty decent plan off the top of his head. It would need work to perfect it but it had every chance of working if they got help.
‘Where exactly do we stand with survivors in the military community?’ Logan asked as they both turned back to the open door that led back downstairs. Even from up on the roof and so far away from civilization they could see the cities in the distance starting to burn. It seemed that nowhere was left untouched and no land was sacred. It made both of them wonder how the other nations of the Earth were dealing with the outbreaks.
Once they were back inside they made their way down the unlit stairs and screeching old cargo elevator, down to the last basement level and into the Doctor’s lab. He still insisted on them wearing white coats and going through the containment air lock to prevent any cross contamination. Thankfully he had stopped asking that they both wore masks.
Abraham sat down at his usual bench and started examining a nearby computer screen.
‘We still have a feed into Washington. Even though the President, Vice President and most of the staff at the White House are now shuffling across the lawn… I think most of the Joint Chiefs are still alive. We also have communication with a mechanized army unit outside of New York. They just pinged up on the radio too. They must be the last of the organized military by now.’ The Joint Chiefs were the most senior members of their respective armed forces. Four Star Generals or Admirals every one of them. Logan knew most of them. One of them he would even call a friend. Why had he not thought to contact him before? That was who they needed to call.
Lieutenant General John Cygan. Chief in charge of the United States Air Force and advisor to the President. He was the man who had recruited the then only Doctor James Logan into the WDC.
He was a forceful man to say the least. He was hard on his people and even harder on the ones he respected the most. He was brutish, demanding and impolite. Logan remembered that he had harsh wrinkled lines all over his face, a good twenty years his senior, and was covered in scars.
He had cold eyes and anyone who talked to him felt like they were under a powerful microscope. Every move was assessed and every word spoken was stored in the General’s fantastic memory for use later. He was manipulative at best and downright shrewd at worst. But he had a good heart under his viscous armor and despite all of his flaws he was Logan’s friend. Logan was sure General Cygan could help.
Abraham called the General in Washington, thank goodness the military lines were still up and the satellite phones were still working, and patched the video feed onto the main monitor.
He downgraded the then much out of date map of the world and the infection to a smaller monitor. They had no idea how far it had spread so there was no point in pretending. In a few seconds time the image flickered up and the General’s withered and old face appeared. He stood bolt upright in what looked like the President’s Oval office. It was obviously a bunker, perhaps housing some of the original furniture, but it was far out of the reach of the marauding dead.
He was stubbornly in full uniform despite the circumstances. He had pressed his uniform neatly and his impressive collection of medal’s hung proudly from his shoulder. The last time Logan had seen him he had long grey hair. He had since shaved his head. He looked even more intense now. His wrinkled complexion extended to his bony head.
‘Brigadier General James Logan?’ Cygan said in an old and shaken voice. He had a heavy east Texan accent ‘Who the Hell thought it was a good idea to bring you back?’ Anyone who hadn’t known the old man for a long time would not have been able to see the joke behind his hostility. He continued with his rant.
‘Shouldn’t you be lying on a beach somewhere pretending the world suddenly became a rosy bed of pretty flowers?’ He continued jesting his old friend. Logan got sick pretty fast.
‘Speaking of retirement. Aren’t you long overdue?’ Logan matched Cygan’s stern face and bolt upright posture. They stared at each other for about a minute via the satellite hookup. One of them would crack soon. Cygan smiled a frail smile and even pushed a laugh.
‘Are you the last left?’ Logan cracked a smile but resisted the urge to laugh as well.
‘Unless you want to speak to the President? She’s out on the lawn with the rest of her dumb-fuck advisors.’ He jerked his head back in the general direction of the garden. The thought of the President dead made both Logan and Abraham shiver a little but they didn’t let it show.
‘So what do you call them?’ Cygan asked, battling through their silence, and he was genuinely interested too.
‘What?’ Logan recoiled in surprise. ‘The victim’s you mean?’
‘I’ve heard all sorts now. I’ve been calling them “shufflers” or “the British”; dull as steak pie and most of them too drunk off their asses to stand up right. I’ve heard them getting called “walkers” and “biters”. My favorite though is “Reggie”. That’s what the army boys and the marines are using as a call sign over the radios. They said it stood for “Hell’s rejects”.’ This was an odd conversation opener but Logan had a feeling where it was going.
‘Just “the dead” I guess or something along those lines. I’d not really thought about it.’ Cygan hit back quickly but avoided interrupting him.
‘When is everyone going to stop pretending and start calling them “Zombies”?’ Logan had no answer. And the following silence confirmed that neither of them did. Maybe it was the last reality that no one could face. Maybe if they used that word they would have to start letting go of everything they thought possible and plausible. Maybe that was one last leap that nobody left alive was willing to take yet.
‘So what can I possibly help you with at the extinction point of the human race?’ Cygan broke the moment of silenced reflection.
‘I want to take back New York.’ Logan stated in a very matter of fact way. Like it would be easy. Abraham c
arried the thought.
‘We have an idea to erect a containment fence and put out an emergency broadcast for survivors to get out of the city…’ Abraham intervened but was quickly interrupted.
‘Don’t be foolish kid.’ Kid? Logan hadn’t been called that in a very long time. Cygan still saw his old prodigy. The twenty something newly qualified Doctor.
‘Think bigger for crying out loud! We can’t stop this by saving a few rats hiding in the subways of New York. We have to cut out the enemy’s heart. We have to burn them in the streets. I’ve had massive success dropping Napalm in Washington with an eighty percent kill ratio.’ What the Hell had he been thinking?
This wasn’t Vietnam and they weren’t fighting an enemy afraid of fire. They couldn’t just burn the whole surface of the world and hope that would be enough. One would always be still left. One would always make it through the net of fire and that one is all it would take to infect another hundred or more. This was a General who had earned his stripes in the jungles against the Vietcong. He was from another time and his time had long ago passed.
‘Napalm?’ Logan shouted and threw up his arms at the Television screen. ‘Are you insane?’
‘I’m about to order a bunker buster drop in Michigan for a greater impact.’ He remained unapologetic and motionless. He just didn’t get it. No amount of bombs could save them. There would never be enough to stop the armies of the dead in their tracks.
‘I don’t believe you!’ Logan screamed at the top of his voice. ‘You think you can blast your way out of this? This isn’t like fighting an enemy with a mind and a thought process. You can’t fight a war of attrition and hope to win against these things. You can’t just keep hammering them and hope that one day you will set off a bomb big enough that it breaks their resolve. They aren’t just going to sign a peace treaty!’
‘Then maybe we need to escalate our options. A nuclear strike at the heart of the outbreak will knock out most of the walking dead and therefore greatly reduce the number of carriers. New York might be a good opportunity to test that theory. Once the major population centers have been knocked out the straggler’s can be picked off by what is left of the military.’ Cygan’s resolution was blind and unintelligent.
It reminded Logan of how Hitler, in the last days of the Second World War, would move troops around on a map completely failing to believe that the troops were long dead or had surrendered. He was blinded by the reality he faced in certain defeat and that was also true of General Cygan.
‘You’re bluffing!’ Logan grabbed at the first straw he could think of. To hope that Cygan was hiding behind a lie. ‘What ability do you have to launch a nuke?’
‘I’m in contact with a Nuclear Class Submarine, the commander takes orders from me and supports me in every way.’
‘It was always only a matter of time before some unimaginative, pumped up war monger started throwing nuclear bombs around but I never thought that would be you!’ Logan screamed again pointing his finger accusingly at Cygan.
‘Remember your station Logan!’ Cygan broke his cool for the first time and barked his subordinate down. Logan wasn’t going to give up though.
‘Commanding officer or not you’re wrong about this!’ Logan continued shouting. Cygan relented first.
‘For old time’s sake, and for old time’s sake only, I’ll give you three days to get inside New York and gather up any survivors you can. I’ll even help you put up a containment ring. I have a few divisions of army grunts with no one else to take orders from. Then I’m putting an end to it.’ Cygan cut the connection and left Logan fuming half a world away.
The old General obviously still had some clout and had command of a fair few men by the sounds of it. He also had the ability to launch a nuclear attack. That put Logan to shame. All he had was Abraham. Cygan had him outnumbered and outmatched but he had offered to help set up the containment field. He would provide the air support they needed to take out the bridges and tunnels too. He would provide the men to help erect a containment net but, Logan was sure, he wouldn’t relent in his decision to burn the city to the ground.