A Zombie Story Thread

Another Chapter tomorrow. I'm gonna be going to bed soon. Oh, and thankyou everyone for the comments.

Chapter 6

Back in the Office

Officer Sinclair was in the office once again, in the roll call room. It was the only area other than the showers at the back of the station house that could hold all the people in the place. Sinclair looked around, and saw the blooded men, camo stained coveralls, and haunted looks on their faces. One of them was silent, his eyes off in the distance, tears coming down his face without a sound coming out of his mouth. Across from him though, sat Hayward, who was calmly cleaning his SKS. He had a cold steely look in his eyes as he cleaned the rifle. His well tanned hands, and arms flexed slightly as he ran a rag up and down the weapon.
"I'm runnin' low on ammo. Only about 100 rounds left."
"You don't have more?"
"Oh, I do, I have a whole case, but it's in my home. Atleast I have ammo for my Springfield," he said, pointing at an XD-40 laying on the chair next to him.
"What exactly did you do in Iraq, Damon?"
"I was a Designated Marksman."
"Give me a moment," said Sinclair. He stood up, and walked over to McClintock.
Hayward looked over at him, as he cleaned, and a few minutes later, McClintock came over to him, holding an AR-15 with a Trijicon 4x scope. "I heard about how you did at the church. And that you area Designated Marksman. And well, that you are running low on ammo, so here is a full length AR-15. It should be up to snuff I hope."
Hayward looked at the weapon, then reached to hold it. He looked through the sites, checked the chamber, and aimed to a point on the wall. Then, he brought it to port arms, and said, "Thankyou. It's a fine weapon."
"We'll hook you up with a good ammount of ammo when we get ready to roll again." said McClintock.
Just then, they heard loud groans from the back of the station house. Several deputies stood up and ran over to the place they were being heard from, behind the roll call room, and the main offices, pistols in hand.
Then, Sinclair heard several gunshots. The whole room began to lock and load, and several cops armed with shotguns got in front of the door. A blood splattered Sgt. McClintock came through the room, "Put those away. Put those away. Listen up you apes. How many of you think you might have been bitten?"
On guy stood up, and walked over to Sinclair, and put a fairly obvious bite mark on his arm about five feet from McClintock's face. He looked at it and nodded. "Anyone else?" he asked.
No one came forward. "Good, restrain this man!" he yelled, a couple of deputies coming up and grabbing him, tacling him, and cuffing him.
"Take him away. I'll talk to him later."
"Look, people. This disease travels through mucous membranes, through your mouth, eyes, nose. It also is bloodbourne. If you get bitten, we have to assume you are infected. You see, we had several bitten deputies back in the shower. Several of them died, and came back, and we had to take 'em out. If you get bitten, you are on borrowed time, until they find a cure. Do you understand? Report any bite mark, immediately. Elsewise, you are a threat to everyone around you."
"But, that means you could end up shooting us?" asked a recently sworn in deputy.
"Yeah. It does. But not until you turn. We don't know when the government will bring in scientists to help out. So we aren't gonna plug anyone until they turn. Ya' got me? Look, we can't risk an infection here.You gotta realize, Phoenix, Scottsdale, all the big cities here. They won't respond except sporadically. We believe the mayor is dead, and we aren't sure about the Governor yet. So you have to be honest."
Once McClintock left, the room began to murmur about the latest standing order.
Sinclair turned to Hayward, and said, "Well, I knew it was coming."
"I was just thinking about the borrowed time comment."
"What about it?"
"We're all on borrowed time now," he said, still looking at his new rifle.

Military Options

Claire Damon was aboard AirForce One, along with the Joint Chiefs, and the Secretary of Defense, John Conryn. She looked over at John, and then at the Joint Chiefs, and said, "Look, I've declared a state of emergency. According to the CIA, well, this is worldwide. South America has been infected at extremely high rates, and about the only countries which even are close to being okay are Venezuela, Cuba, and Bolivia. Apparently, Hugo Chavez activated his "People's Milita" and they've been on the border exterminating anything that tries to cross. Cuba shut itself off to the world, and Bolivia put up a qurantine zone using the mountains for protection.
Switzerland is the only European country that is holdign it's own. France, Germany, England where I just came from. It's, well, civilization as we know it is ending."
She paused, looked up at the presentation screen in the small "conference room" and said, "And, well, the Chinese Embassy just informed me they are going to nuke several cities in their own country, and they just wanted us to know so they can avoid a nuclear war."
"They didn't tell us exactly when though."
"I want to know the military options."

The Generals and Admirals looked at each other, and General Isaac Stapleton, the General of the Army spoke up and said, "Well, Mrs. President. The problem is assets. Most of the regular Army right now is stationed in either Iraq, Afghanistan, or along the Korean border. We don't have but 30,000 troops in the whole Continental United States. As for our ability to strike, well, strike what? And how. We don't know who has been left alive and who is dead. We also don't know how many of our bases are still uncompromised."
"I want answers, General!" screamed the President. "Not excuses."
"Well, Mrs. President," said the Admiral of the Navy. "We have an almost 100% capability. The Pacific Carrier Group was doing maneuvers off the coast of Hawai'i, and I called them back, they are currently en route to the Pacific Coast, about to rendezvous with the forces docked in San Diego Harbour. We have basically everything on that incoming Carrier Group at your dispossal."
"What can you do, Admiral?"
"Well, we do have several nuclear weapons available. Um, Daisycutters, we have about 2,000 Marines. And a SEAL team. The nukes we have are B-61 variable yield bombs. Called "Dial a yield" basically we can set it high enough to destroy a city, or to destroy just a small portion of one. The Daisy Cutters are powerfull enough to act as a very small tactical nuke without the radiation. We have plenty of air assets. Um, just various forces."
"We cannot nuke a major US city. Atleast. We cannot as of yet. Look folks, I want intel. General Butler," she said to the Air Force General, Robert Butler. "I want you to get some spy planes up above US cities, and get NORAD satellites to track over and tell me what you see."
The General nodded. "Look, I also want you to advise me as to assistance to Mexican and Canadian forces. We will need to throw assistance their way. I'm going to contact the SecGen of the United Nations, and see if there are any assets we can get loaned to us."
And, "I'll talk to you all later, let's say, in an hour."
The President walked out, and the Generals began to make calls.
Then, about ten minutes later, the President walked right back in the room. She had a grave look on her face. "Gentlemen, I have just been informed, the Chinese cities of Nanking, Shanghai, and Fujian have been destroyed by high yield nuclear devices."

Sorry about the wait. Had much to do. Here is the next episode of the story.

And Now, Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Orion, The Hunter

Renee Lincoln sat on the tailgate of her and George's Powerwagon, a young girl cradled in her arms sobbing gently as Renee rubbed her back. About thirty yards away, George was squatting on the pavement, looking into the distance while he smoked a Camel grabbed off of one of the dead men, his PSL hanging from a sling around his neck. He cradled the weapon and looked up at Orion The Hunter in the night's sky. He said a quick prayer for the people who had died here, and looked to the shallow graves him and Renee had carved out of the ground for the girl's family.
Still, they had no idea who she was. The man and the woman had IDs on them that said they were Patrick and Mary O'Bannion. As for the young man in the back of the car, and this young girl, they'd not had IDs. But, upon looking at the girl, she'd looked alot like her father. Both had the same red tresses, and narrow faces. The son had dark hair and a Roman nose, much like his mother.
As for the looters, they had all been thrown into their own fire once they were stripped of the weapons, and ammo they'd been carrying.

George stood, and looked over at Renee. The girl was wearing one of George's business shirts, and she had a towel wrapped around her legs. George looked back at the ground, and up into the night's sky. His rage hadn't really been fixed by the killings. He didn't know what to say or what to do. Because, no matter who he killed, or what they did to make this young girl's life better, George couldn't bring back her parents, and he couldn't stop the rape from happening. He began to cry. In his mind's eye, he played back what he'd seen again, and again. He kept on wondering if he could've done it all with his Glock. He kept on asking why he didn't bring the AK or the FAL. He kept on asking why humans were dying and being reborn as the living dead? He kept on asking why G-d allowed this?
"Is this Noah's flood?" he whispered to G-d as much as to anyone else.
He was raised Jewish, but had flirted with becoming a Lutheran when he was in High School to the chagrin of his Conservative mother. But, he'd eventually become a Reform Jew, who only went to Synagogue on the High Holy Days, and every once and a while on a Saturday morning. Normally, he didn't think in a very religious manner. The same as many Reformed Jews, he didn't think of himself as special, or Jews as that special. In fact, in many ways, he wasn't like the other Jews he knew. Probably the biggest difference was his politics. He was a "small l" libertarian. Most Jews he knew were either moderate conservatives, or far on the left liberals. But he never complained. It was his way. And they had theirs. But with the world as he knew it coming to a close, he began to wonder why.
He wondered about Renee. He'd met her in college, the first time around, before he decided to scrap his plans in accounting to become a nurse. She'd been beautiful, loving, caring, and everything he'd ever wanted. She loved him almost unconditionally, but, she was Catholic. Still, was Catholic, once again to the chagrin of his very Jewish mother. He wondered what she thought about all of this. He'd studied Catholicism plenty. What would a Catholic think about the dead rising up?
Then, he looked at Renee again, and the girl, and thought, there were more important things at the moment than religious implications. To be able to be around later to discuss this, to think about it, to write the history, he had to survive. Renee had to survive. This girl had to survive.

Abbey O'Bannion lay shivering in the arms of a dark haired woman with eyes the colour of dark chocolate. The woman held her against her chest, hugging her and saying everything was going to be alright. Abbey felt some comfort from it. But she couldn't get the images out of her head. He father, brother and mother. The men. She tried to forget, to get the images to go away, but they wouldn't. She couldn't get the smells, or the words on their tongues to go away. So she cried under the stars.
But, after a while, she looked away from the woman who held her over to the tall, broad shouldered man who stood looking up into the sky. He had some kind of rifle slung across his body, and on his face a look of wonder, but terrible horror as well, and across his cheeks in the light of the fire were drying tears. She'd seen both men on top of her fall after the crack of a shot. She'd seen others begin to run and fall as well. Probably from bullets fired down the barrel of the wicked looking weapon.
He looked touched, far away. Whereas the woman was soothing, calm and caring, this man looked like he was sorting something out. She saw him look up in the sky, and Abbey traced what he was looking at. Her mother had told her about it. It was the Orion Constellation. Orion, The Hunter.

Aftermath of a Tragedy

President Zhao Li Tzu of the People's Republic of China sat in the underground bunker built for high government functionaries surrounded by Generals of the People's Liberation Army. He'd made just three hours ago, the most dificult choice he'd ever made. The choice to nuke three of his own cities. The Generals chain smoked cigarettes, and talked with aides about reports coming in. Li Tzu held his hands in his head, and tried to hold back tears. Now was a time for strength. To show a weak emotion at this time would weaken his position. Make him lose face.
So far, millions in addition to those killed in the three cities had died at the hands of aerial bombardment of cities, gunfire from troops engaged in fighting in various towns and cities across the land, and in fights with other citizens. And now, the Generals were trying to formulate a plan that would kill millions more. But, supposedly, it would "save" the land. "Save" China? Save the Han? thought Zhao.
Against who? Themselves? For themselves. Zhao loved China. He loved the Han people, his people. But already, he knew the great destiny of the Middle Kingdom would take alot longer after this.

Wow, Drew. I am not familiar with Halo. But, this is the way I conceived a massive zombie infestation. Like the flood. Both because I believe it may be what people in the Judeo-Christian background would most likely liken it to. Also, because I don't want to get into Jewish/Christian/Islamic/Hindu, etc. eschatology.

While I wanted this to be a little deeper than just a little shoot 'em up, I wanted the main themes to be survival, zombie killing, political entrigue, and of course, mentioning what I think are the most tacticool weapons i can think of.

Anyway, without further ado, I present, Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Chapter 8

President Claire Damon sat across from the Joint Chiefs yet again. She'd changed her clothes to a new red suit coat and skirt, but she'd not done her makeup and her 60 years were easily seen by the men sitting around her despite numerous trips to get botox, and a face lift. She'd discovered that being the President was rediculously stressful. She calmed herself, took a drink of water, and began the meeting.

"Well, gentlemen, what do you have for me?"
Admiral Antonelli, the Admiral of the Navy stood up and said, "I've been a little, proactive... you might say. We've discovered that San Francisco is still only somewhat infected. There are still pockets of humans left. So, we were thinking about sending in a SEAL Team to investigate the possibilities and coordinate air strikes off the deck of the Kittyhawk.
The nuclear assets are still in place, if you should decide to use them, but we were thinking it might be best if we used the Daisy Cutters."
General Isaac Stapleton spoke up. "Well, Ma'am, I've discovered that although we don't have much in the way of conventional forces, some local areas have been resolving the problem on their own. Um, local County Sheriffs have been deputizing hundreds to thousands of local residents, and sending them out on kill missions to infected areas. Arizona has been so successful at that approach, they are about to enter Phoenix in order to destroy te infestation there.
Their main problem is air assets though. If they could have several known zombie hot sites destroyed, it would probably avoid alot of deaths. The Arizona Air National Guard is already making some improvised bombs, and bringing old stock out of-"
"Isaac, Isaac," said the President looking at the General glaringly, "Explain this. Deputizing local citizens?"
"Yes, Mrs. President.Local hunters, gun owners generally. They bring in a gun or two, some ammo, and generally take their family to a designated safe zone, and then get driven to an infested town, and um... well... cure the infestation."
"Men, random men with guns."
"Well, yes Mrs. President. You see, the Arizona National Guard and law enforcement just don't have the personnel capabilities to handle this by themselves. But most people in Arizona, especially rural Arizona, have guns, and they have been really assisting the local government officials."
"Really. How?" she asked, an extremely skeptical look on her face.
"Well, they um, have gone door to door in towns, finding non-infected folks and bringing them to safe areas, recruiting additional Deputies and putting down the zombies. Apparently, a couple thousand of them are on the border, taking shots at any zombies that try to cross in from over the border-"
"They are doing what?"
"Protecting the border from zombies trying to enter."
"They are shooting Mexican citizens?"
"Not exactly ma'am. They are letting the Mexicans escaping take refuge in the same safe zones that Americans are in. They are only killing the zombies."
"I'm not sure the President of Mexico would see it the same way, General Stapleton."
"Well, it's working. It's also working pretty well in New Mexico. The only problem is that they need to get resupplied. These guys didn't have too much ammo beforehand, and we've been raiding the local Wal-Marts, and sporting goods places, but, still, they are running short on ammunition. And we need to open up the NATO stockpiles, and rearm and resupply them if we wish to continue. We also need to have airstrikes over the major cities in zombie infested areas."
"Listen, General Stapleton. And listen carefully. There will be no more civilian deputies. There will be no more shooting Mexican citizens. There will be no more raiding stores for ammunition, and there will be no air strikes in order to assist them."
"But, Mrs. President-"
"Listen, General Stapleton!" screamed the President, cutting him off, then lowering her voice back down, "We will not have men with guns shooting each other."
"These men aren't shooting each other, they're saving the country, we need to expa-"
"SHUTUP!" screamed the President. "Look General, you are going to call this off now. I have a damned good reason. If you do not, you will be relieved of your post!"
The General sat back down in his seat. He looked at the President who's face had turned red, and who was seething with rage. He was wondering what in the hell could have made her not want to follow a suggetion that was working.

President Claire Damon stood up and began to walk up and down the conference table. "I was on the phone with the Secretary General of the United Nations. In two weeks, we can have 2,000,000 UN troops in here to assist our forces. An Indian, South African, and Australian contingent can be here, and we can get reinforcements after that. Secretary General Sandrahar assured me, assured me, that assistance to the United States would be a top priority."
Admiral Antonelli spoke up, "Well, how are they going to protect their own countries?"
"India, gentlemen, has a billion people in it. They have been raising an Army numbering 30,000,000. The majority of that number will stay in India, We are just getting a handfull comparitively. Look gentlemen, these are hard times, okay. But the whole world is in this together."
General Isaac Stapleton sat stewing in his chair. He never had the thought in his career of doing what he was about to do, but, he realized, he was going to have to organize a coup d'etat.

Ambitions of a Prime Minister

Prime Minister Jandahar Kumdhi of India was sitting off the coast of his country aboard one of the navy's ships. He was, with the aide of his Generals and Admirals planning the destruction of most of the country. The 30,000,000 man Army that had been a secret to most of the world, aimed right at India's arch rival, Pakistan was now going to be used to destroy much of it's home. Jandahar thought though of what might be gained from this. He'd just gotten off the phone with the American President. That stupid, stupid woman. She had asked for Indian troops to be used in America to kill off much of their undead. At first when his Generals had heard this, they had disagreed, until he explained the logic of this. Once the infestation was handled, much of that vast land would be unihabited. The remaining few would be unable to resist, and a 2,000,000 man strong Army would be able to easily take a huge ammount of that land for themselves.
Unlike the prior Indian Prime Ministers, Kumdhi wasn't fixated to Pakistan, or fixated on peace at any cost. He was fixated upon expanding Indian power worldwide. And, America, the world's greatest power, had become a shadow of it's former self. While it had sent it's industrial might to China, it had sent it's techological and brain reserve to India. And now, India was poised to take not only America's position as the greatest nation on the Earth, but it was poised to take... part of America. The Indian Army already had eliminated zombie infestations throughout the country through ruthless strategy.
Kumdhi had isolated whole portions of the country before using air strikes on the cities with the highest infestation rates, and then sending in his troops, the Jawans to mop up. Meanwhile, every portion of the country that did not border an extremely hard to cross mountain had been bolstered with troops ordered to "shoot first, ask questions later," as the Americans would have put it.
Although most of the Generals were extremely worried, Jandahar was not. He knew that India would be greater than it ever had been when this thing was all over.

Resting in a Safe Zone

Highway Patrol Officer Gary Sinclair walked through the "Safe Zone" that was in the relative middle of Cochise County. In it were thousands of people, many of them with emergency blankets covering them. They were dirty, stinky and tired. Some had either the soup or the sandwiches which had been handed out to refugees. He himself had devoured his ration of a bowl of thin tomato soup and the ham sandwish which everyone had gotten. As he looked around, he thought it would probably be a good idea to raid a couple grocery stores in order to get enough food to keep these people fed for a couple months.
He looked around and saw Americans of every age, race, gender, and religion sitting against their cars, or at the entrance to tents. Most haunted and far away. Some holding or talking to their children. It wouldn't be too much longer before Gary would have to put out to do what he had done ten times now. Only this would be the toughest mission of all. Taking back Arizona's largest city, Phoenix.

Biker, you've probably read enough of my stuff to figure out where I come down on a variety of issues. And of course, it can be seen from the story. But, the basic points brought in on this were what if an insane internationalist President were presented an insane scenario? From there, I asked, who would stand to benefit the most. And, well, if there was ever a joint task force tasked with patrolling American streets under a UN Banner, India would be one of the main participants. It already contributes more to UN Peacekeeping (in terms of # of men) than most countries, and if a large chunk of the country were to be suddenly unihabited, well, it would make a very attractive target for an outside force.

While there were usual suspects, I asked myself, "Who do I choose?"

Chapter 9

Chapter 9

The New Fellow Traveller and the Nice Inheritance

George and Renee Lincoln were moving again down the Highway. This time, they both had weapons out, Renee with the AR-15 layed out with the muzzle up, and George had one of the looter's pistol gripped pump shotguns laying across his lap. The girl was asleep in the back of the Power Wagon, on a bed of blankets under the truck's camper shell. Only a couple miles before, he'd refilled the beast's gas tank with a couple of NATO gas cans while Renee had been looking out, her AR-15 in hand. The ranch was only another 12 miles. And George was happy to know it was close.
Renee was distant now, looking out of the side of the truck, but at nothing in particular. George was fixated on the road though. After what had happened, he was determined not to let what had happened before, happen again.
"Renee," he said, evenly and calmly.
She didn't respond, so he said it a little louder.
"Renee."
"Yes," she said, gently turning her head.
"Did our new friend say anything to you?"
"No," she didn't. She didn't say a word. I think the shock was too much for her.
"Um. Okay. Well, here's the thing, we don't know who will be here or what will be going on. Several members of my family know about this place, and if any of them got here, they might be okay. They might also take shots. And hell, they might be zombies."
"I know. I know."
"Just saying, have your game face on."
Renee nodded. "I had it on earlier, it hasn't left since we killed those men."
"How are you?" he asked. "Since, I mean. I've never seen you angry like that in my life. What exactly happened back there for you?"
"You know about my dad, what he did to us."
"Yeah."
"Being a daughter to a drunken SOB, doesn't compare to that. But, but it kind of brought back some things for me. That's all."
"You okay now?"
"I'll be okay."
"I love you, Renee," said George, reaching a hand across the cab, and finding her cheek to caress. She reached around his hand, and caressed it in return.
"I love you, George."
For a while they held like that, then, they heard rumblings in the back. George pulled onto the shoulder, and they parked, while Renee got in the back of the Wagon.
The girl was fighting like in a dream, a nightmare. Renee went to get into the back, but, before she did, the girl awoke, and said, "Where am, where am I?"

Everything began to flood back for Abbey O'Bannion. She closed her eyes, but shut those things out. She remembered the murder of her family, her attack and gangrape, and the people who had shot those men. She was in the back of a truck. Their truck. And she was clothed now, in clothes that were a little big for her.Then, she looked up and saw the same dark haired woman with the big brown eyes reaching for her. Behind the woman was the tall broad shouldered man with the goatee. He smiled gently, and she saw he had on a boonie cap, and beneath it was a haunted face, and dark, green eyes.
The woman went to hold her, and she let her for a moment. Then, she pulled away, and said the first thing she'd said to these people.
"Who are you?"

George and Renee Lincoln looked at each other before turning to look at the girl. Both were turned aback somewhat, when Renee said, "I'm Renee. And this is George."
"I'm Abbey. Abbey O'Bannion. Where are my parents?"
"I'm sorry, but they're dead Abbey. We buried them several miles back, north of Waco. George wrote down the highway marker we were close to, so you can find them in the future."
Abbey began to cry, but did her best to hold back the sobs. "And, those men?"
"We... killed them," said Renee.
"No, I remember. What did you do to their bodies?"
"We burned them." said George.
"Okay," she said. "And my parents' stuff?"
"We left alot of it there. But we took most of the food they had, and if you're wondering, the cash, cards and the coins your dad had in that black daypack are all in that aluminum box there. Along with his wallet, and your mother's purse." said Renee.
"Could I see it?"
"Sure," said George, opening the latches on the big aluminum case.
He opened the case, and the redheaded teenager looked inside. She grabbed both the purse and the black daypack. The first thing she did though was go through the purse, and pull her mother's money and credit cards out. Then, she grabbed for the pictures in the wallet. Baby pictures of her and her brother and family photographs. She tearfully looked through them, making sure to kiss the recent ones of her mother, father and brother.
Then, she grabbed the daypack. Inside was a roll on a rubber band of $20 bills. She opened it up, and counted the money. $5,000 in 20s, 50s, and $100s. Then, she grabbed for the coins. Her dad had bought a few coins when gold had begun to go up in value. Inside were about 20 coins that had Canada written on them, with a lady's head on one side, and a Maple Leaf on the other. There were other coins, silver, that had Spanish written on them that were in plastic covers. They had Ley .999 along the lower border with "plata pura" written on the right side. On the back was an eagle with a snake in it's beak. The Canadian coins were smaller than dimes, but these big, larger than twice the size of a quarter. Finally, reaching in, she saw two gold coins the size of the silver ones with South Africa on the right side, and "Suid Afrika" on the other. On the back was marked "Krugerrand." Finally, there were five rectangular shapped pieces of gold with the words "Credit Suisse" written on them.
She looked up at Renee and George. "How much is this stuff worth?"
George looked at the girl, smiling, and said, "Well, Abbey. Let's just say, your father left you a nice inheritance."