Chapter 33

Chapter 33

New York City
Day 3 of Outbreak
Dawn


Nick Barron laid in bed with his beautiful wife, Carrie. Outside their apartment, the honking of car horns could be heard, the busy everyday life of a typical New Yorker filled the air. Off in the distance, although faint, shouts and gunshots could be heard.

Nick smiled as he kissed Carrie on the cheek, his arm wrapped around her and rubbing her arm. It was his day off, his first personal day in over a year. The main reason he’d taken it was to spend some time with his wife. She’d supported him and his dangerous career, giving him moral support and words of encouragement every day before he was called in. Some days were slow, and he’d mainly stayed at the station filling out reports. Most days though, he was providing covering fire from some rooftop, his team’s eye in the sky.

“Honey, are you sure about this?” Carrie asked, turning away from the flat screen mounted on the wall. They loved that 56’’ TV, it had been a wedding gift from her brother. Nick turned over in the bed, holding both of her hands and looking into her eyes.

“We’ve both spent our entire lives here. Born and raised, Carrie. Are we really going to let some new strain of the flu or whatnot kick us out of our home town?” Carrie smiled, her perfect white teeth shining. She was a dentist, and always seemed to be brushing her teeth when she used the bathroom. If a stranger would use their bathroom, they’d think they were dealing with a severe OCD patient. Bottles of mouth washes and toothpastes lined their sink. A few packs of dental floss were perfectly aligned on a small shelf above the sink. Two brand new electric tooth brushes rested on the edge of the sink, charging away and awaiting their next use.

“You’re right, Nicky.” Carrie said, flashing her pearly whites again. The smile faded as her gaze landed back on the television, where mass evacuations were in effect. Nick followed her glaze, raising the remote and turning the volume up.

“…Mass hysteria, Diane this I’ve never seen anything like this!” Carrie’s grip on his hands tightened as the reporter stepped aside, revealing a large group of soldiers ushering people by. Behind them, another line of soldiers were behind barricades, and were firing away at another crowd of people advancing.

“Jesus, Nick…” Carrie said, but he held up his hand.

“Shhh, hold on.” Nick wanted to hear what the reporter was saying.

“All police, firefighter, and paramedic units are ordered to report in for duty.” The reporter grabbed a soldier by the arm as he ushered injured people through the barricade. His assault rifle was held high in the air, his other arm waved frantically as a beacon for the people. “Excuse me, sir-” Nick recognized the soldier, it was Sergeant Keyes. Local war hero, legend among the people of New York.

“Get your crew out of here, this area is no longer safe!” The Sergeant growled. “Hey, hey!” The camera man followed the Sergeant as he raised his rifle and fired off a few shots at one of the people that had stumbled through the barricade. The man went down as a three round burst got him in the chest. Nick’s eyes went wide as the man started standing back up, moaning in pain.

“Cut out, cut out!” The reporter urged the camera man. The news feed changed back to a woman, her eyes were wide and mouth open for a moment before she’d realized that she was live and regained her composure.

“I- um…” Diane shuffled through a small stack of papers laid out in front of her. Nick turned the television off.

“Nick-”

“I have to.”

“You can’t-”

“I must.” A look of disappointment flashed across Carrie’s face as he climbed out of bed and rushed into the bathroom. An assortment of dental care greeted him as he turned the knobs in the shower and waited a moment for the cold water to turn warm. He undressed and hopped in, the warm rushing water gave him a sort of comfort as he reached for his shampoo.

“Nick, I don’t want you to go.” Carrie said sternly as he scrubbed his hair. Nick sighed, he didn’t want to go out there just as much as she didn’t. But it was his duty as an officer of the law to protect this city. His hometown… their hometown.

“You and I both know I have to.” He couldn’t see her through the shower doors as the steam fogged them up, but he could her sniff outside them. Damn it.

“I know…” He heard Carrie run the sink for a moment, the electric toothbrush turned on a second later.

“Look, I know SalBoa isn’t evacuating, either. He’s even keeping his grocery open. I’ll stop by after work and pick up some supplies. We’ll be fine, I promise.” His razor ran down his face as he quickly shaved. Carrie’s toothbrush turned off as the sink came on again, and she rinsed her mouth out.

“Nicky, no…” She opened the shower door as he finished his shave. He kissed her on the cheek quickly as he rinsed his face. She crossed her arms and frowned, giving him the pout face.

“Carrie-” She closed the shower door and flushed the toilet. Nick yelped as the water suddenly became boiling hot. Jumping out of the shower, he grabbed a towel and wiped himself down.

Carrie sat with her arms crossed as he quickly dressed in his riot uniform, full gear. He opened his end table drawer and pulled out his sidearm, and slid it smoothly into his holster. Nick switched on his radio as he strapped his vest on.

“Backup! Send backup now! Jesus Christ, what the fu-” Nick quickly switched it off. He slipped the radio onto his belt and sat down on the bed next to his wife.

“Honey, please don’t do this.” He leaned forward for a kiss, and received her cheek instead as she turned away. He wiped away a tear from her face with his hand. “I’ll be back, I promise… I love you.” He rubbed her shoulder before standing up and walking towards their bedroom door. He turned around, and saw her still sitting on the bed, trying not to cry. Nick sighed and exited the bedroom, quickly making his way across the apartment towards their front door.

“Nick, wait-” He turned around as his hand hovered over the brass door knob. Carrie threw herself into his arms, leaning forward. They passionately kissed, Nick welcomed her embrace. She slid back after a few moments, her hand resting on his cheek.

“Be safe, and I love you too.” Nick smiled.

“I’ll be back soon…” Carrie nodded as she opened the door for him, and stood in the doorway as he made his way to the elevators. Nick watched her as he waited for the shaft to arrive. Another man walked up beside him, tapping his foot on the ground impatiently as he checked his watch. The elevator beeped as the doors opened; Carrie blew him a kiss as he stepped in with the man. The doors closed as he hit the ground floor button.

“Any word on the situation out there, officer?” The other man asked, the briefcase he held in his hands shook.

“I know just as much as you.” Nick said as he waited. The man shrugged and pulled out a pack of cigarettes, pulling one out and sticking it into his mouth. It dangled from his lips as he held out the pack. Nick shook his head.

“No thanks, I don’t smoke.”





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“God damn it.” Nick mumbled as he lit the cigarette and inhaled the deadly smoke. “So much for quitting.” The cherry burned bright in the hangar. He paced about as he smoked the cigarette, watching the outside intently. Nick needed out, he was starting to lose his mind being cramped up like a fucking prisoner in a cell. He wasn’t a bad man, why the hell was this happening to him?

“Then again, maybe I wasn’t such a good man, either…” He mumbled, relishing the cool smoke into his lungs as he took another hit. He’d left his team to die back in the city and let his wife be taken by those creatures. Maybe everyone left alive was being… punished. Yes, a punishment of sorts.

“I must have really fucked up somewhere down the line.” Nick muttered, flicking the cigarette outside. The rain promptly put it out, the cherry sizzled away in an instant. Nick was becoming restless; the moans of the dead outside the gates taunted him. He imagined them, sitting there and waiting for the perfect chance to strike.

“Speaking of…” Nick stopped pacing for a moment and looked outside. “Wow…” It seemed like hundreds more had gathered around the air base. He didn’t remember all of them being there the night before.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Jake asked, stopping next to him and looking out past the runway. Nick rubbed his chin as he spoke.

“Looks like we’re in for one hell of a night.”





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“Sir, our numbers are low. I suggest we evacuate this air base now, and relocate. Every day, there’s more of those… things outside the front gates. Look how many are out there now!” Taft raised his binoculars, looking outside the large window of the control tower. There had to be at least a thousand of the dead out there, shuffling around, waiting.

“Our numbers our low,” Officer Riley continued. “we’re down to three officers, including myself, and nine grunts. When we arrived here, we had over thirty!” Taft sipped on his cup of coffee, not really listening to the man anymore. “We’re not soldiers, sir. We weren’t fucking trained for combat!” Riley growled as he noticed Taft ignoring him. All Taft could think about is the next sacrifice. It seemed every time one of their own was given up to the dead, they left the base alone, and didn’t even try getting in.

“That’s too large-scale of an operation, we will hold our ground.” Riley wasn’t buying it.

“Sir, if we’d just use the Chinook and Blackhawk, we could easily haul away all of the civilians, soldiers, and supplies within a few trips. I’m not quite sure where we’d go yet, but I have been mapping out locals-”

“We’re not relocating, Riley. Don’t let me hear another word of it.” Rain softly pattered against the window frame as Taft sipped on his coffee. This was when Officer Connors spoke up, a strong urgency was heard in his voice.

“With all do respect, Colonel, Riley is right. Our supplies are starting to run low, and those creatures will break through eventually, there’s no way around it. We’re short on manpower, we wouldn’t be if-” Taft slammed down his mug of coffee. Some of its contents splashed out of the mug, running along the console and dripping to the floor. Lightening lit up the room for a brief moment as he looked Connors in the eyes, daring him to speak against him.

“If what?” Taft spat, challenging the Officer. Connors slowly removed his wire-framed glasses, and stood up, looking him right back in the eyes. His glasses clicked loudly in the small room as they were placed down on his console. That son of a bitch.

“Sir, you keep killing all of our men and women. Peters, Winters, Barnes, O’Neil… this has gotten out of hand, and I’m not the only one that feels this way.” Taft felt his face going red as his heart started beating faster, the rage in his system boiling up. Taft turned around and looked back outside, watching the raindrops patter against the window as he nonchalantly opened up his holster. His M9 begged to be taken out, but Taft managed to subside the urge for now.

“Insubordination, Connors, is the act of a subordinate deliberately disobeying a lawful order-” Connors cut him off as he slowly pulled out his sidearm and lightly placed it on the desk, along with his dog tags and beret.

“Sorry, Colonel, but as of today, I’m officially resigning… I’ll move my belongings to the civilian quarters promptly… I will not help you anymore.” Connors gave a crisp salute before opening the door.

“You didn’t let me finish, Connors.” Taft snarled as Connors stopped above the stairwell. “Insubordination is punishable by death.” He drew his Beretta and shot Connors in the back three times. Connors let out a startled shout as he stumbled forward, falling down the stairwell. A snap was heard as his arm twisted the wrong way, and another when his leg got lodged in the railing. As his rag doll corpse reached the bottom, his head slammed against the concrete wall. A large flap of skin peeled back as his broken neck kept Connors propped up against the wall. Streaks of blood dripped down from his face, forming a small puddle at the bottom.

“Connors-” Taft spun around as Riley stood up, holding out a hand in disbelief. Taft knew they had been good friends before the outbreak. Oh well. Riley looked at Taft, then at Connors sidearm still resting on the table where it had been placed, then back at him.

“Don’t even think about it, boy.” Taft growled. Riley’s eyebrows wrinkled up in frustration as he considered it. “You’ve been warned.” Riley jumped for the gun, his body soared through the air as he reached out for it. By the time his fingers grasped the handgun, Taft’s own firearm was up, and trained on the treacherous bastard. Riley’s weapon slowly turned in his attempt to fire. The man was quick, but Taft was quicker. Taft’s gun kicked twice in his hands as he fired off two shots in quick succession.

His remaining Officer screamed as the first shot blew off half of Riley’s face; his beret flew off in a bloody heap as the second shot nipped his now exposed brain. The brain popped in a shower of crimson matter as the round blasted a large chunk out of the window behind him. Officer Rollins screamed as she fell out of her chair, quickly regaining her composure and crab walking back against the wall.

“Well Rollins, looks like it’s just us now.” Tears streamed down her face as she slowly stood up, shaking with fear.

“My God, how could you?” She asked, kneeling by Riley. Her head shook as she stood back up, wiping the tears from her face. Taft stayed silent, wondering if he’d lose his last Officer.

“Rollins, don’t do anything you will regret.” He warned as she backed towards the open door. “Rollins.” Taft asked as her back clumsily hit the door frame behind her. Rollins watery eyes were wide with disbelief as she stepped out into the stairwell. “Rollins!” Taft barked as she turned and fled.

“God damn it!” Taft ran out into the stairwell, aiming his Beretta at Rollins as she ran down the stairs crying. “Bitch!” He spat, the gun followed her down the spiral staircase. When she reached the bottom, she tripped over Connors’ corpse, spinning around and landing on her back. She held a hand up when she saw his gun aimed at her.

“No!” She cried as her back slammed against the double doors.

“You choose your fate.” Taft whispered. A single gunshot echoed throughout the stairwell as her head snapped back. Thunder struck again outside as Rollins head slumped forward, blood leaking from the gunshot wound in her head. Taft turned around and placed his gun its appropriate holster. It smoothly slid in, he left holster open as he walked back into the control room and grasped his mug of coffee and sat down. He didn’t bother wiping off the small splotch of blood on the side as he sipped the cooling beverage. Looking back at the mug, he chuckled when he read the side. The splotch of blood was drizzled over the text, which read, “Discipline is Key.”

“Damn straight.” Taft muttered as he kicked his feet back and enjoyed the storm.

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Barnes slid his wrench down on the drive bolt, grunting with effort as he tried removing the tension from the new belt. He put it in crooked his first attempt, the heat of the situation had him on edge.

“Come on!” John screamed as his M4 ran dry. “Out!” Barnes leaned out of the engine, up to his elbows in grease. He raised the Taurus as John ejected his magazine, it splashed as it fell into the street. Rex shot a shambler before it could sink its yellow teeth in John’s neck. It collapsed next to the APC as he spun around and shot two more shamblers that were making their way towards him. A new magazine clicked as it was slammed into John’s rifle, who nodded at Barnes.

“Don’t just stand there, finish it!”

“Right.” He shoved the gun in his pants, his belt holding it in. The wrench shook in his hands as he rotated the auto adjuster tensioner clockwise. Barnes grinned as it came loose, and he slipped the belt on straight. As he began tightening the drive bolt again, something behind him grabbed him by the poncho and yanked him back.

“Gah!” Barnes went with the fall, leaning backwards instead of trying to struggle against it- that saved his life. The shambler’s teeth snapped in the air as he fell behind it. His military training kicking in, Barnes drew his Taurus from his belt and shot the shambler in the knee. A moan escaped from its lips as Barnes jumped up and slammed the wrench down on its face. From prolonged time out in the rain, the carrier had bloated up. The wrench sunk down in its skull, its eyes protruded from its head slightly as he ripped the wrench out and gave it a solid kick to the back. It never got back up.

“Sergeant-” John called as Barnes ran back over to the engine, intent on finishing the job.

“One sec, almost got it!” He called back from the hood.

“Barnes!” Rex tightened the last bolt until it was snug.

“Hold on!” He yelled back over the thunder that erupted in the sky. He tugged on the belt, making it rotate a few times to make sure it was properly installed.

“Help!” Barnes finally lifted his head from the hood.

“It’s in!” His breath caught in his throat as he saw John struggling with an infected, a few more were advancing towards him. “Shit.” He threw the poncho off, not wanting to be pulled down again, abandoning it in the street. Pulling up the rifle, he took aim and fired, killing the shambler John was struggling with instantly in a messy explosion of muck.

“Get in!” He ordered, firing twice more before following John into the back.

“Wait!” John yelled, pointing out into the street. Barnes looked out, and saw nothing but the horde of the dead. “Come on, Joe, hurry your fatass up!” Rex sighed.

“Damn it, we don’t have time for this!” He went to pull the doors closed, and found John’s M4 in his face.

“Fuck off.” Barnes stepped back, holding his hands up as John turned back and open fired, keeping the closest of the dead at bay. “Hurry!”

“I’m coming!” John yelled again, this time in a deeper voice. John ushered an invisible person forward before slamming the doors shut. The APC began to rock slightly as soft pounds were heard from the outside. It was only then that Barnes noticed John’s bleeding hand, and the teeth marks that surrounded the wound.

“Fuck!” John screamed, slamming his hand against the side of the vehicle, leaving a bloody smear as he pulled it away. He pulled a machete from a sheath at his side and held it out. “Cut it off, now!” He ordered. Barnes nodded, wondering if it could really stop the infection from spreading. He reached out for the machete- and was startled when his hand was slapped away.

“Not you, Joe.” John’s eyes suddenly widened.

“You sure, John? Maybe it’s not infected…” He spoke in the deeper voice again, Barnes figured this was “Joe” talking.

“Don’t feed me bullshit, do it!” Oh man, this was going to hurt him. Rex watched as John handed the machete over to his other hand and placed his infected hand down on a metal table, drooping his infected hand over the side.

“Wait!” Barnes yelled as he took off his T-shirt and walked over to John. The APC began rocking more violently as the moans of the dead became louder outside. Ignoring them, Rex wrapped the shirt tight around John’s arm. His muscles flexed as he pulled it as tight as he could, doing it best to stop the blood flow. He nodded when it was complete.

“You ready?” John asked himself.

“Yes, hurry!” John raised the machete high over his head for a moment. The metal gleamed, Barnes face was reflected off the polished blade as he brought it down. John screamed in anguish as his hand was amputated from his arm. A stream of blood splurged out of the wound, spraying the wall of the APC. Rex jumped back, not wanting any of the infected blood on him, especially since he was shirtless now.

“Jesus Christ, holy fucking shit!” John screamed as he thrashed about, holding his stump.

“Calm down, just- stand still!” John yelled a second later.

“We’re getting out of here.” Barnes roared as he hopped behind the driver’s seat. He was amazed that despite his immense pain, John was able to comfort himself in the form of Joe. His hands shook as he turned the key, and was glad to hear the engine roar to life, sweet music to his ears.

“Hang on!” He put the vehicle in drive and floored it, crushing any shambler that was dumb enough to be in the front. The APC sped down the empty streets and onto a dirt path leading back to the forest, leaving the city of the dead behind.



3 hours later



Barnes paced about the cabin, ignoring the howler’s cries for death outside. John rested on the couch, a proper bandage now in place over his stump. He was a bit pale, but Barnes assumed it was from blood loss. He wasn’t experiencing any fevers, or nausea.

“Look, I need to go pick up a few people. I’m not sure when I’ll be back, or if I will… but I promise, somebody will be over to pick you… two up.” John nodded from the couch.

“Sure you don’t want me to come along? I’m pretty good with a gun.” John was speaking with the deeper voice, so he assumed it was Joe talking.

“Look after John, he needs you.” John nodded as Barnes slipped on his vest and zipped it on, not bothering to take another shirt. “You don’t mind if I borrow this, do you?” He asked, picking up John’s M4.

“It’s yours.” Rex grinned as he made his way towards the front door.

“Remember to change your bandages if the bleeding starts again, and constantly disinfect it. If your wound gets infected, you’re fucked.” John called back after him as he stopped at the front door.

“Aren’t we all already?” Rex couldn’t help but smile at that as he exited the house, closing the door tightly behind him. The howlers went crazy as he made his way to the APC, screaming in rage.

“I’m coming back for you, buddy.” Barnes mumbled as he got back in the APC. Tom had saved his life before, now it was time to return the favor.





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Jack Kingston sat straight up, a wild look in his eyes. His breathing was rasp, and everything seemed to be clouded over in a shade of red. His head raised, sniffing the air around him. A sweet scent lingered in the air, something that made an insatiable hunger from deep within erupt. Jack’s gaze landed on the German Sheppard laying in front of him. His first instinct would have been to tear it apart- but no, they had the same blood. Jack’s head tilted back and a blood curdling scream filled the air.

Outside, a commotion was heard. The former soldier jumped to his feet, rage consuming him as he slammed into the door. Through the fogged glass window, he could see somebody stop outside the door. Jack continued slamming his body against it until the curious patrol decided to open it.

“Kingston-” Jack screamed as he tackled him to the floor, tearing his throat out with a swift bite to the neck. The soldier kicked about as the life drained from him, his life energy spilling out across the floor.

“Oh fuck!” Another soldier noticed them, and stumbled back on his ass as he brought his rifle up to bay. Before Jack could leap up, Jesse sprang forward, barking in rage as she jumped through the air and tackled the man. His cries for help went unanswered as the dog tore his face off. Jack’s eyes leaked blood as he felt the patrol underneath him suddenly struggling. Looking down, he realized he was pinning down one of his brethren.

The soldier let out a wet howl as he pushed Jack off and jumped up, sniffing the air around him for a moment before taking off for the civilian hangars. Jesse growled as she spotted somebody on the runway and took off after them.

Jack screamed again as a single gunshot ripped into his shoulder, spinning him around. The soldier who fired was taken down by the German Sheppard before he could alter his aim. The Private looked towards the female hangar, an even sweeter scent was being emitted from the area. His arms outstretched, the howler sprinted off towards it. Private Jack Kingston was no more.





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Katharina laughed as Tom held her close, listening to Jessie talk about her past life. Tom had spent the entire day with her, and it had actually felt like the first time since they’ve met that they’d actually had a relatively normal day together.

“So then-” Katharina looked away from Jessie and buried her head in Tom’s chest, never wanting him to let go. “So then…” Jessie trailed off as a man came running through the hangar, shoving people out of the way as he made his way towards them.

“Kingston-” Tom said before Jack slammed into them. Katharina cried out as they both fell off the cot and onto the floor. Kingston snarled as Tom struggled with him. Kingston looked up at her- and it was only then that she saw the blood leaking from his eyes, the pale skin, the blood leaking down his chin.

“Tom!” Katharina shoved the soldier hard in the chest, knocking him back on the cot next to Jessie. Jessie had sat on it the entire time, frozen in fear. Jack screamed in fury as he looked over at her, and grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled Jessie down on top of him.

Jessie let out a shriek as Kingston ripped her cheek off, devouring it in a single bite. She struggled on the cot, trying to pull herself off the howler. His grip was tight, and hers was weakening as he took bit down on her chest, biting through the fabric and taking out another chunk.

“Shit!” Tom yelled, reaching down into his holster for his Taurus- it wasn’t there. “Go, go!” The hangar was suddenly in a panic, the screams of the women competed with the dead as two more of the howlers ran in, tackling the two closest women.

Tom stumbled as he stood up and lifted Katharina off the ground, shoving her back towards the office.

“Run!” Katharina glanced back, momentarily watching as her best friend went limp, Kingston still eating away at her corpse. The once white cot was now drenched in gore. She ran into the office, turning around as Tom slammed the door shut.

“Move!” Katharina jumped out of the way as Tom pushed the desk in front of the door, creating a barricade of sorts.

“Tom?” She asked nervously as he ran a hand through his hair. “What’s going on…” Her voice cracked. He looked back at her, and took her in his arms, stroking her hair as he squeezed her tight.

“I don’t know…”





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30 minutes later



Barnes held the wheel tight as he plowed through the undead and slammed through the front gates. An air raid siren was heard echoing throughout the airport as he slammed on the breaks and killed he engine. The M4 shook in his hands as he jumped out of the APC and looked back at the gates, watching as hundreds of the undead flooded into the base.

His initial thoughts were that the raid siren was because of him. But as Barnes turned around, he was shocked to see the entire base in a battle with the undead. Civilians ran from the hangars, screaming in panic as a few howlers chased after them. A few remaining soldiers fired indiscriminately into the crowd, taking down anyone who came their way. How the fuck did the get inside?

“I’ll worry about that later.” Barnes looked up at the control tower, seeing the silhouette of a man kicking back and watching the carnage unfold. The person’s head turned when they noticed Barnes looking up at them.

“That’s right you son of bitch, I’m coming for you.” Barnes took off towards the control tower as thunder exploded overhead, momentarily muting out the screams of the dead and dying. Barnes had one goal in mind, one set objective. Taft was going to die, and he would see that to the end.