Merit Badge of the Undead
The Victus Mortuus Chronicles
By Brian Robillard
Copyright 2012 Brian Robillard
To Laurie, who’s got my back whether it is raising kids or surviving the zombie apocalypse.
Devil’s Hopyard Stat Park – Scout Camp
“OK, we’ll stop here. Everyone take a knee for a couple of minutes.”
Jimmy slumped to the ground. His pack fell off his shoulders and he leaned against it wishing he was in bed. All he wanted to do this weekend was stay home, read his comic books, play Wii or even his stupid DS. Instead, he was out in the middle of nowhere with his scout group; hiking.
“Alright boys. Let’s set up camp in the field just beyond those trees. First thing’s first, get with your buddy and set up your tents. There’s some weather on its way, so we need shelter and then a good cookin’ fire.” Then Jimmy’s dad looked over and said, “Jimmy, you can bunk with me.”
“Stupid scouts” muttered Jimmy. Just because his dad was their leader he was forced to go on every trip or tour or meeting. Jimmy’s dad put his hand on his shoulder, “Well done son. You’re really hanging in there with the older boys“. I guess it’s not all bad, Jimmy thought.
“Let’s go Butthead”
“OK Beavis, ehh ehh ehh.” Scott quipped back at Jordan. Both were senior leaders and had been camping many times. Even though the younger kids looked up to them, they were in high school and tended to stick together. Despite this, they were scouts and often ended up setting up tents, cooking meals and even cleaning when the younger kids needed help.
This was the group’s “summer skills campout” where they tested the boys’ knowledge of everything they learned over the school year. It is meant to be a practical application of their scouting skills. The older boys think of this as routine, but for the first year scouts and their fathers, it can be intimidating.
The group of eighteen scouts and three leaders hiked out of the woods into a large grass covered field that would be their home for the next five days and spread out. The scouts broke up into three different units, each working as a group during the campout. Jimmy was in the “Dragon” unit named by popular vote. The “SpongeBob” and “MacTavish” units also began forming their camps. The scouts worked to set up tents, unload equipment from their packs and collect firewood. No one would be allowed to take a break until the camp was set up and the fire was started. After that, the scouts would be free to explore the woods or just hang out with their friends until it was time to make dinner.
Wyndmoor Agricultural Research Center
Dave Sarling, the center’s logistics officer walked in the break room stretching his arms. “How’s the coffee this morning, Rich?” he said while letting out a long drawn out yawn.
“Anything with caffeine is a good thing today.”
“Did your crew make delivery on time? I heard things were running late the last few days.”
Rich, the team leader for the foreign species study group, looked up from his mug, “Ya, almost a day late, but we met the shipping deadline late last night. Everyone pitched in, team did good.” Rich took another slurp of his coffee. “As soon as I hear the package has been transferred to Boston I’m goin’ home and sleeping for a few days.”
“Sounds like you need it. I’m just glad that stuff’s out of the building.” Dave said.
“Me too Dave. Me too.”
Route 85 Northbound
“We started the day hot and humid. It was a great morning to be at the beach, but this afternoon we expect a cold front to move through eastern Connecticut, creating a very unstable atmosphere. This is likely to produce severe weather. We expect that some of these storms will be quite intense and bring lots of lightning and heaving rains.” Click. Jennifer turned off the radio in her 2003 Honda Accord.
“Just great.” Jen said looking out the driver’s side window trying to eye anything menacing in the sky. Sure enough, she could see large bright white clouds growing taller and higher. The clouds were “kinda pretty” she thought, but Jen knew that would change soon enough. She reached across the stick shift and into her homemade handbag to find her cell phone. There were 30 other bags just like it in the back seat ready for the farmer’s market in Salem. She spent months making these and now the stupid rain would ruin everything. Waitressing just couldn’t pay all of her bills and this was her chance to catch up and pay her boyfriend back for some of the repairs on her car.
Jen looked down at the iPhone she couldn’t afford and scrolled through a long list of names to her boyfriend’s number. “Bryan? Hey listen…”
Scout Camp
The field was a flurry of activity as the boys dumped out the contents of the their equipment bags and started to see which poles were mates, finding directions and unrolling the nylon tents flat on the ground. Clinking metal and the dull thud of hammers advancing stakes into the ground filled the air. Each tent was in a different state of construction. Scott and Jordon had their tent erected in less than ten minutes. It looked just like a photo on the scout website. Perfect. After six years of camping, they had setting up and breaking down their tent down to a science. In fact, they won the tent derby two years in a row for being the quickest in the state.
On the other side of the spectrum was Jimmy. His father didn’t want to show favoritism by helping him out and he was left to struggle on his own. It seemed that none of the tent poles fit together and he’d be surprised if he could even find the door flap in the balled up mess of tent at his feet. Sweat poured down Jimmy’s face as his frustration and the humidity grew more intense.
“Match the colors on the end of the poles.” Jimmy looked over his shoulder to see Jordan standing behind him. “The end of the poles. They’re color coded.” Jordan pointed out again.
“Thanks. I guess that makes sense.”
“Here put those two together and then grab the corner of the tent. I’ll show you a secret to getting it laid out straight and flat.” Jimmy easily slid the poles together and knelt down to grab the corner grommet on the tent.
“It’s my first time and I don’t think my dad wants to help me.” Jimmy confessed.
Jordan looked back a Jimmy, “He’s not just testing you. The senior scouts have to step up and help out. The leaders pretty much stand aside. We’re supposed to learn that way I guess. Anyway, in a few years you’ll be helping out the new kid.”
“Circle of life, Hukuna Matada?” Jimmy joked.
“Yes, my young padawan. Now hammer that stake into the ground.”
Jimmy’s father looked over and smiled as he watched Jordan give his son some much needed instruction. Seeing his son struggle was tying knots in his heart and it took more strength than he anticipated to keep from helping him. Now that he was feeling more at ease, Jimmy’s father began surveying the campsite. It was starting to come together. Most of the tents were up and some of the scouts began collecting fire wood and clearing an area for a cooking pit.
“Hey, stop right there Anthony.” He hurried over to the first year using a hatchet to open a box of cookies.
Cheshire
Laurie completed folding the last load of laundry, poured herself a tall glass of Coke and sat down for the first time since the boys left on their campout this morning. “’Me’ time.” She said as she pointed the remote at the new flat screen television. She flipped through the hundreds of channels with nothing to offer until she noticed the scroll at the bottom of a local station mentioned “T-Storms”. Laurie turned on the local weather and watched as the radar loop showed a line of orange, red and purple move up from New York toward southern Connecticut.
“Tha
t doesn’t look good. I hope the boys will be OK.” She stated out loud. Jimmy’s father always said the leaders would take precautions and that part of camping was dealing with bad weather. Still, the harsh colors on the screen made her nervous and she reached for the cordless phone.
Scout Camp
Jimmy could hear the musical ringtone very faintly from across the field. He immediately recognized it as the “Brass Bonanza” and knew his mom was calling his dad. “So much for roughing it, Dad.” He said to no one as he finished putting the rain fly on his tent. As soon as his tent was up, he could hide out and read a few comics he stashed away in his pack.
His dad hung up the phone and quickly walked over to the other leaders. Each stopped what they were doing and started what looked like a serious discussion. Jimmy stopped working and watched the men talk and could hear the faint rumble of thunder far off in the distance.
Route 85
A large utility truck painted a dark flat gray made its way along the winding roadway. Every turn tested the heavy suspension on the Ural5323 military transport. There were no signs, markings or logos on this truck. In fact, there wasn’t even a license plate, just a QR barcode next to the letters, “USAGT-33“ painted on the thick steel rear bumper. The driver of the transport was lost and slowed at each bend. He even stopped at several of the side streets which annoyed the driver of the Honda Accord following closely behind. “Check the GPS again,” ordered Mack. “Maybe you put the wrong address in…”
“No. I put the correct address in. We’re just in the middle of nowhere and lost the signal in the trees…again.”
“Fine. Whatever you say Danny boy. I’m sure it’s the satellites that are f’d up and not you.”
Danny fiddled with the GPS and finally saw that the unit was getting a strong enough signal to find their location. “Re-calculating my ass. You know if they let us on the interstate, we could’ve been there by now and wouldn’t need this thing. That’s why they make highways you know, so you don’t have to get lost in east butt-itch Rhode Island.”
“Connecticut” Corrected Mack.
“Butt-itch Connecticut, whatever. You know what I mean.”
Mack tried to reason with Danny and ease the tension. “You know they can’t let us on the 95. There’s less people on these back roads in case somethin’ happens or we break down. Protecting the public and all.”
Danny rolled his eyes, “Easier to hide something you mean. Don’t have to explain a lot when a couple of cows get sick.” An annoyed silence filled the cab as both men realized they shouldn’t talk about their payload.
Honda Accord
Jen was frustrated. Here was her big chance to pull in a few extra bucks and the weather, her boyfriend and now this big truck were getting in her way. She drove with one hand and held her cell phone with the other, “You always have to work late. This is important Bryan! I just need your help for a few minutes.” A high pitched beep interrupted her. “What was that? Bryan? Hey, are you there? Bryan?!”
Jen pulled the phone away from her ear and stared at the screen. “Crap!” The battery was dead. She reached under her seat to try and find the charger. She pulled on a tangle of wires but they were wrapped around the handle for reclining the seat. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” Jen yelled as she yanked harder and harder trying to free the charger.
When that didn’t work, Jen quickly looked down at the knot of wires under her seat. Just as she took her eyes off the road, the government transport abruptly stopped as Mack tried to make a last minute turn.
As the massive truck turned, the little Honda drove directly into the back left corner of the truck at over 40 mph. The steel frame of the truck ripped off the top of the Honda’s passenger compartment and the car slid under the truck. The sound of tearing metal and shattering of glass pierced the peaceful quiet setting of the wooded roadway. The front of the Honda crumpled into a ball as it ground its way into the rear axle of the truck. The momentum of the car forced the back end of the truck into a sideways skid.
The truck started to tip as its rear end slid uncontrollably from the force of the sharp turn. The heavy vehicle veered off the road and rolled. It sounded as if a thousand pieces of glass and metal fell to the pavement as parts of each vehicle were forcibly scattered across the roadway and the embankment. In seconds the massive collision was over. The truck lay partially on its side in a stream bed with the small car pinned beneath it. It was quiet again as both vehicles lay still bleeding oil, fuel and other engine fluids onto the ground.
Scout Camp
“OK boys, we have some weather coming at us,” said Jimmy’s father. “Right now it looks pretty severe. Thunderstorms. They’re predicting high winds, heavy rain and at worst, hail.”
“Should we pack everything up?” asked one of the boys.
“We have three options. One: we pack up and leave right now. But, it took us a while to hike in and we’d probably need another hour to pack everything up. Two: We can just bail and hike out. Leave everything here. As a group we might be able to make it back in less than an hour. Or Three: We bunker down, use our skills and ride the storm out.”
“Let’s just go home!”
“No way. We just got here.”
“I don’t like this, can we call for help?” The scouts started arguing about what they should do and their voices grew louder and louder.
Jimmy watched his dad raise is hands and yell “Boys. Boys. Settle down. Quiet please. All the leaders have discussed this and we’re going to stay. We’re all tired from hike in and setting up camp, especially the younger guys. We don’t think we would make it to the cars or shelter before the storm hits and if we’re caught in the woods someone might really get hurt.” Every scout was staring at their leader, nervous but thankful that someone was taking charge. “We’re in a good spot, not too close to the ridgeline. Anyone with tents in the field will move them closer to the tree line. Like these here. Pack everything you have into your packs except for any metal objects like your mess kit. When the storm hits I want you to kneel on the packs to get you off the ground. This will help keep you safe from lightning. OK?”
Heads nodded and the group felt better now that they had a plan. “Older scouts help out the new kids. Jordan, get some of the older boys who have knives or a hatchet and begin making hurricane stakes for the tents once your stuff is secure. Like a spear, sharp at one end so we can sink them a foot or two into the ground. This will keep our stuff from getting blown away during the storm. Make them as long as you can and find some sturdy wood so they’re strong. Not this old pine stuff here. At least two per tent, more if there’s time.”
Jordan spoke up, “Sure thing. Mike, Jim, Dave and Greg, we’ll make stakes by the fire pit once your stuff is stowed.”
Jimmy’s dad turned back and faced the group, “OK. Look we have plenty of time and a good plan. So no one should be worried. Your parents and the other leaders know where we are and I’ve got my cell to get weather updates. Any questions?”
With no questions, the scouts went to work putting their camping skills to good use. Jimmy’s dad looked around and hoped he made the right decision. Part of him wanted to high-tail back to the cars and come back later for the stuff. Worst case, he thought, they could make a run for it. According to the map, there was a state road less than half a mile through the woods to their west. They could flag a car down for help or find a home along there.
Route 85
Heavy duty nylon straps held a thick insulated storage crate securely to the floor in the back of the overturned government transport. In their hurry to move the package off base, the Wyndmoor lab technicians forgot to secure the crate’s hinged top. When the truck rolled onto its side, the crate became suspended held in place on one side by its straps. The force of the crash flung the heavy top wide open. Inside the carefully packaged crate were thirteen vials, each marked with the b
iohazard symbol and labeled, “victus mortuus strain.” The tight foam packing held all but one of the vials in place during the accident.
The thirteenth vial lay half shattered on what used to be the wall of the truck. A thick liquid oozed out of its glass confines and flowed through a seam in the metal wall that separated during the collision. Gravity slowly drained the contents of the vial and let it escape for the first time since its discovery only nine days ago.
Jen coughed as she came to. The last thing she remembered was seeing the truck passing over her and hearing her car being crushed. She snapped her eyes open and screamed as her mind relived that terrifying moment of impact. Quickly realizing the worst was over, she stopped herself from screaming and looked around trying to orient herself. “Where, what happened,” she moaned. Jen was alive, but trapped between the seat and her steering wheel. The truck blocked most of the sunlight, but she could still see the car interior and tried to look for a way to get free.
An icy drop of liquid fell from the truck above her and splattered on Jen’s face. It was so cold it felt like a pin prick when it first touched her. But after a few moments the sensation turned tortuous and her skin felt like it was on fire under the droplet as it slid down her cheek towards her nose and mouth. Trapped, she couldn’t wipe it away as more of the crimson liquid began dripping through the shattered windshield into her car. “God, it burns!” she exclaimed. Panicked, she tried to shake her head to clear the fluid from her face. But it only spread the painful burn which now reached her eyes. Jen could feel some of it in her nostrils and even felt the burn in her mouth along with a horrible metallic taste.
Jen’s head began to pound with every rapid beat of her heart and she thought she could feel the liquid swarm throughout her body as she lost control. She started to convulse violently in the confined space, her eyes rolled back in her skull and yellow foam was expelled through her nose and mouth. As suddenly as it began, her body stopped. No heartbeat. No breathing. No life.
Danny was lying on top of Mack and both men were wedged against the driver’s side door. “Mack. Hey, Mack, you OK?” The shattered glass was pink from the blood