Zombie Apocalypse: Redemption

Zombie Apocalypse: Redemption

By J.L. Murphey

Copyright 2011 J.L. Murphey

Cover Art Copyright 2011 by J.L. Murphey All Rights Reserved

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Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This is a work of fiction. The towns, agencies, and stores are real entities, but are used as a reference rather than actual places where events of this story occur. All persons depicted in this novel are the creation of the author’s imagination.

~*~

Dedicated to Amy Parrot and Tabitha Stamey, classmates and fellow horror buffs.

~*~

Chapter 1

Dr. Donna Cairn was not a reactionary, nor a conspiracy follower, but the events of the past few months left her little choice. By profession, she was medical doctor and geneticist who worked for the CDC, but her lab was in an underground missile silo complex near Omaha, Nebraska. Close enough to her childhood home of Bloomfield for a short commute on days off.

What better way to hide top secret genetic project than to place it in a small town in rural America? The fact that several surrounding counties housed several underground missile silos was not a secret to the people who lived there. They had been decommissioned with the USSR/USA agreement to disarm. The military sold these silos cheap to anyone who wanted them and several had been converted into homes, but this one was one of the best-kept secrets around. When she was asked to head up this project she jumped at the chance of getting away from the big city of Atlanta.

The recent passing of House Bill HR 465 which allowed for FEMA camps to be built in ten states raised a few eyebrows among the conspiracy buffs, but it was all speculation. The CDC statement of a zombie apocalypse on May 18, 2011 shook the world into frenzy. Couple this with the Mayan calendar predicting the end of the Earth, as all knew it on December 21, 2012. Paranoia ran rampant on the internet with survival stuff. But Donna didn’t buy any of it at face value as they occurred.

It wasn’t until late at night when she lay in her bunk, that all these items came home to roost. She started playing what if games and like a giant puzzle all the pieces started fitting together into a nightmarish picture equaled to all the horror movies she’d ever seen. What if, the refugee or FEMA camps weren’t for the Haitian or Cuban refugees but Americans? What if, the alert from the CDC wasn’t a hurricane preparedness statement? What if, the Mayan’s had it right?

Nah, it ain’t gonna happen. Somebody would know, right? Nobody could keep that big of a secret. No one was in the room with her a as she spoke to the acoustic ceiling tile grids. Donna reached over, turned off her bedside lamp, rolled over, and went to sleep.

The next morning she remembered to pick up a copy of the Bloomfield Monitor. It was her weekly hometown newspaper. Granted she could have picked up a daily copy of the Herald or Star for faster updates. She browsed all the local news of who visited whom, what was on sale this week at the grocery store, and then her eyes fell on an article from Creighton, a neighboring town, of a man chased by dogs and bitten. Well, that fellow’s gonna need rabies shots, if they can’t find those dogs, she muttered. Other than that there were the usual farm foreclosures and farms for sale. She shook her head in dismay of the dying of agricultural rural America.

Donna hit the shower allowing the hot water to run from the top of her head and down the drain. After washing her hair, she grabbed a towel from the rack, and then checked her emails. A quick note from her brother, he and his wife would be visiting next week from Indianapolis. She read the latest updates from the CDC and that was it. Nothing catastrophic going on in the world other than the usual stuff, and a report of radiation levels climbing in Japan.

She finished her breakfast of Carnation Instant Breakfast and headed to the lab. I really have to eat better, she thought, but the idea of reconstituted eggs and something that looked like bacon turned her stomach. Maybe when Jeff and Victoria got here or she took some vacation time, she’d actually eat a real breakfast. Donna waved at the military guard at the desk outside her lab as she passed.

How ya doing Frank?

Same old stuff. Just a different day.

She nodded in agreement. Stay away from rabid dogs.

Frank gave her a puzzled look.

Donna waved him off, Never mind.

Donna swiped her access card in the lock, and the door unlocked. She needed to get on Facebook later and check on her family still living in Japan. The news from their area of the world was troubling. She powered up her scanning tunnel microscope, and loaded the latest slides from her last test. The helix showed the defect. What should she splice today to fill the void? She mentally shuffled through the possible enzymes and other possibilities.

She was so immersed in her tasks it wasn’t until her stomach rumbled that she looked up at the wall clock. Oh, my goodness, she thought, it’s after nine. This was the thing about working underground. You never knew whether it was day or night. If it wasn’t for the 24-hour clock, which read 2100, it could have been morning. Donna saved her information on the mainframe, powered down the microscope, and left her laboratory.

Hey Carmen, what ya know?

Private Carmen Rodriguez glanced down at her watch and made a note in her logbook. Working late again, Doc?

Yeah, ya know it.

"Ay caramba, Doc! You’ve been in there for sixteen hours. You can’t keep doing this to yourself."

Donna shrugged off the comment. What did they have down in the mess hall for dinner?

SOS.

Shit on a shingle. It just sounded so appetizing, she thought. I think I’ll pass.

Liquid dinner then Doc.

Donna gave Carmen a backward wave as she headed for the elevator.

Ding, ding. Second floor. Lingerie, perfumes, and shoes, Donna said, as the door slid open to the floor she wanted. Her nightly raids into the kitchen had become legendary in the two years she’d been there. The staff knew it was her because the only things missing the next morning was strawberry yogurt, a big bag of BBQ potato chips, the fixings for a ham and cheese sandwich, and a large bag of Reese’s Peanut Butter cups. The kitchen manager ordered these items in bulk just for her. Not that she was the only researcher who kept late hours. She stuffed all the items into a plastic shopping handcart, the cooks kept handy just for the researchers.

Donna pushed open the door.

Ah, ha! Caught you!

Gregorio Ivanovich, you scared the hell out of me! Donna reached up and slapped the man on the shoulder.

I got something to show you that’s a bit disturbing, if you got time? He held up a stack of printed sheets.

Yeah, sure. Let’s go into the lounge where I can stuff my face and be comfortable.

Gregorio bowed outstretching his arm. After you.

~~~***~~~

One minute Eckerd Vortmen was minding his own business waiting on the U-Bahn to carry him home from work, and the next three stray dogs appeared knocking him to the platform. A woman with an umbrella materialized beating the animals off him. They had scampered down one of the side walkways.

The woman helped him to his feet and he brushed the rumples out of his coat.

"Dankeschön, I appreciate the help."

He didn’t realize he was injured with all the extra adrenaline pumped into his system from the fright until he tried to take a step. He looked down at his ripped dress slacks and saw the blood.

Now, Eckerd Vortmen lay on the gurney in the Emergency center in the outskirts of Munich, Germany. He knew dog bites were dangerous if only from an infection standpoint. The idea of wasting twenty-eight days getting the rabies series of shots didn’t appeal to him either. He had better things to do with his time. He’d promised Kurt, his son, a trip to the Deutsches Museum planetarium this weekend. In two weeks, they were going on vacation to the mountains for a fishing trip on the high lakes. His wife loved nature. This was a huge inconvenience. He looked at his watch and waited for the doctor.

Chapter 2

Donna sat down on one of the two blue, Damask loveseats in the corner by the window. It only looked like a window with a pastoral scene plastered to the concrete behind the glass, and curtained. Plants had been added here and there to give the impression of life to the otherwise concrete coffin they lived and worked in. She set her basket on the Persian carpet, and grabbed her yogurt and a spoon.

Gregorio sat in the adjoining loveseat and waited for her to settle. Have you been reading the news lately?

No news is good news.

No, really, Donna. I did a cross reference and found some disturbing coincidences.

Now Greg, we both know there is no such thing as coincidences.

Exactly! He handed over the sheaf of paper he’d been carrying. Take a look.

She read all the printed pages concerning dog bites. Not that dog bites were that strange, but there were thirty reports on each of the forty pages in her hand from all over the world. All the people were hospitalized with raging fevers and a few died. This in itself didn’t raise a particular alarm, but the bodies of those who died had mysteriously vanished from the morgue. Where is ground zero?

Some place in Japan.

Radiation poisoning of some kind? How is it spread?

Gregorio chuckled. And Japan only thought they had problems with Godzilla.

Not funny, Greg. How is it getting across the water? Is it airborne?

Gregorio shook his head. Not that they can tell. To be honest, you’re the first person I’ve showed this to. It’s been bugging me for a couple of days now.

You need to send this to the CDC. Donna unwrapped a peanut butter cup, and popped it into her mouth and chewed thoughtfully. What happened to the bodies? Do you think this is a biological WMD?

Weapon of mass destruction? Could be but what is the agent? It’s nothing like we’ve seen before.

The endorphins from the chocolate kicked in as her brain focused on the problem. Bodies just don’t walk out of morgues. Once you’re toe-tagged and lay on a slab, that’s it, you aren’t going anywhere without help.

Gregorio nodded. "You figure it’s some kind of government cover up? But whose government?

I dunno Greg. Send it to CDC and see what they say. For now, that’s all we can do. In the meantime, I need sleep. Donna placed her uneaten food back in the basket, and gathered her trash. Good night, Greg, Let me know what they say.

Donna shoved her trash into the waste bin as she passed. Her brain was still operating in fast forward working on what Greg had told her. A new infection? Carried by dogs? Dead people disappearing? Too many variables and too many unknowns.

She rode the elevator down to the third floor and entered her quarters. It had the bare minimums of military issues a bunk, a desk with computer, one armchair. She didn’t care. All her creature comfort items were at her grandmother's house. One more day and she’d have her days off. She’d go topside to Bloomfield. Small, sleepy, little Bloomfield…population of 1,000 souls with the main source of income from farming and livestock, the quiet life just the way she liked it. The only place in the world she’d ever called home.

She changed into her pajamas and switched on her laptop. She logged into Facebook and was greeted by someone’s post; The zombies are coming! It was linked to the CDC’s zombie apocalypse article. An hour