Sever, p.13
Sever, page 13
“A couple of hours.” Asher held up the small handheld radio that he’d been listening to. “I’ve been checking for any more information.”
She frowned and said, “Are we ever going to get past this? I mean, is it ever going to be normal again?”
“I hope so. We have to hope that the military and police will do their jobs and stop this.”
She placed a hand lightly on his forearm and then tightened her grip like she didn’t want to let him go. “Are you sure that you’re okay going away from the fight instead of running toward it?”
He thought for a moment before he answered. He’d asked himself the same question a lot over the last couple of weeks. Maybe he was getting too old like he said all the time, or maybe Rachel had given him a reason to not go back. Subconsciously, there must be some truth to that since he hadn’t rushed off to join some type of defense force or link back up with the military when the zombies first escaped into Philadelphia. He’d done his part and now that he was responsible for Rachel’s safety, he had a valid excuse for not getting involved.
“I’m fine. I’ve done my part. I’ve fought these things before and we accomplished the mission they sent us to DC to do. It’s time to let others step up and do their part.” Then he looked sidelong at Rachel with a grin and said, “Besides, I have Boomer to look after.”
She pulled him toward her by the arm and he had to hold his cup up to keep from spilling. “I’ll give you something to look after, Mister!”
It took them a few hours to emerge from the camper. When they did, they walked hand-in-hand down to the water’s edge while Boomer dug in the sand. They waved to several other couples and even a few kids were on the narrow strip of sand that the resort boasted.
The RV park was less than half full, but the presence of families on the beach was a welcome surprise to the couple. They’d been so caught up in escaping the menace in the north that they had forgotten that more than seventy percent of the country was still clear of the infected. Asher was convinced that with proper strategic, non-nuclear targeting, they could kill all of the creatures and end the threat.
Even with his mind constantly drifting back to the northeast, it was almost a perfect afternoon. The weather drifted up into the low 60s and they were comfortable in long sleeve shirts while they strolled across the beach. Asher bought them each a cup of Italian ice as a mid-afternoon snack and they walked out onto one of the small, empty boat piers that dotted a portion of the resort’s grounds.
“This is perfect, Asher,” Rachel said. “I wish that we could have started seeing each other before all of this… stuff.”
He didn’t want to ruin the moment, but he also wasn’t going to agree with her assessment. If they’d begun a relationship before this, then he wouldn’t have gotten to know Allyson and learned how to open up to a woman. Because of that relationship, he’d been able to connect with Rachel faster than he ever would have imagined possible. Even that had been unintentional as he’d been mildly irritated with her when she first started to be around him and he’d slipped into his old ways of wanting to be alone.
“Yeah, this has been a perfect day,” he conceded. “Thank you for being here with me.”
Rachel slipped her shoes off and sat down on the end of the pier to eat her ice cream while she stared out at the waters of the Gulf of Mexico. Her feet dangled over the edge, several inches from the surface of the water as it slowly surged back and forth. Asher set his treat on one of the support frames and bent to take off his shoes as well. Then he turned to loop Boomer’s leash over a mooring anchor to keep her from running off while they were sitting with their backs to the shore.
Rachel screamed and fell into the water. Asher twisted around, lunging after her to try and grab her, but she sank below the waterline before he could reach her. He stared at the murky water for a second to see if she would pop back up, but when she didn’t, he jumped off feet-first into the waves.
Asher went down to about ten feet before his toes touched the sandy bottom. He felt outward in all directions without coming into contact with anything but the pier’s wooden pylon. He kicked over a few feet in the opposite direction, but still didn’t find her. His oxygen soon began to give out, so he pushed himself toward the dim light above.
His head broke the surface of the water and he looked around, there wasn’t anything visible. On the pier above, Boomer barked frantically at him to come back out of the water. He scissor-kicked his legs while he regained his breath and then inverted in the water to dive back down. He wasn’t as cautious with entering the water this time since he knew how deep it was and went all the way to the bottom once again.
Asher alternated between searching under the water and shouting her name when his lungs forced him to go up for air. After ten minutes, he gave up; there was no way that she would have been able to survive underwater for longer than that. The best freedivers in the world could only hold their breath for ten or eleven minutes at a time; Rachel had screamed when she fell so she hadn’t even had the opportunity to catch her breath. The former SEAL surmised that she got caught in some type of intermittent rip current below the surface and was pulled out to sea.
He reached up, grabbed the bottom of the pier and pulled himself from the water as he’d done hundreds of times back in the Navy. Boomer licked the salty water from his skin as he lay back on the wooden planks. He pulled the cell phone from his pocket to call 911, but it was soaked through and ruined. He dropped the useless hunk of plastic onto the deck and banged his hand against the pier in frustration.
Then he remembered Rachel’s purse and sat up quickly. He dug through it until he found her phone and dialed the emergency services line. The operator said that she’d send a car immediately and within minutes he heard the wailing of sirens making their way toward the docks. He slipped his shoes back on and jogged out to the road to meet the officers.
They assured him that the department was already sending divers, but he could see in their eyes that they knew she was gone. It was likely the same look that was in his own as he talked to them. The two officers asked him the requisite questions to try and determine if foul play was involved, but they didn’t seem too interested in going beyond the basic line of questioning.
Back on the pier, Boomer barked like crazy and jerked against the leash toward the shoreline. “What in the world?” Asher exclaimed. The dog had the leash in her mouth and tried frantically to chew her way through it.
“Looks like your dog is gonna hurt herself, Mr. Hawke,” one of the patrolmen stated.
“Yeah, I’m gonna go out and get her before she falls off and drowns.”
“Probably best,” the other said.
He jogged out toward where Boomer struggled and she snarled at him. “Whoa, girl! Take it easy.” The moment he lifted the leash off the mooring, she bolted toward the shore, pulling him off balance. It took a considerable amount of strength to keep her from dragging him and she choked herself on the collar trying to pull away from the end of the pier.
“Hey, what the hell is wrong with you, Boomer?” he muttered through clenched teeth.
She acted like she was trying to get away from something, so he looked over the edge into the water. A toothy-faced zombie grinned back at him.
*****
19 October, 1648 hrs local
The Castle, Smithsonian Institution Building
Washington, Dead City
The Master strode into the larger room connected to the place where it normally stayed during the day. The Followers on the walls reported that the Leader had returned to the home city and the Master knew that something important must have happened.
The Leader stood listlessly in the center of the room, staring blankly at the Master as it walked into the room. Despite its size, the Followers who were present turned their heads or looked at the floor in difference to its position.
You have come home, the Master’s words projected into the Leader’s mind.
Yes, I have news, it replied in similar fashion. The large cities along the water belong to the Chosen. Our Followers move toward the remaining humans, but they run away and do not fight.
Why is this?
We do not know, Master. Our forces have grown. There are so many of the Followers that I can no longer control all of them. Send another to help me.
It cannot be, Leader. Another of the Chosen was destroyed in the battle at the walls. There is only one other besides you. The other takes our Followers along the water the opposite way. As its mind spoke the words, the Master pointed southwards.
From deep in its memories of the time before the change, the Leader remembered the gesture to place its hand across its chest as if it could feel pain. Now there are… The creature struggled to remember the words and then, There are three of the Chosen remaining.
Yes, the Master replied. The Master will stay in the home city. You will attack the humans. The Followers that you cannot control will kill what they find. This is acceptable.
The Leader inclined its head in difference to the Master’s wisdom. If it and the other Leader moved the Followers away from the water, they could continue to change more humans into the Followers and destroy the hated men who were far less superior to the Chosen.
SIX
19 October, 1721 hrs local
Perdido Cove RV Resort
Pensacola, Florida
The creature that looked up at him from the water wasn’t really grinning; the skin around its mouth had simply rotted away to reveal the teeth beneath. It startled Asher so much that he fell backward, hard, onto his ass hitting the wood planking with an audible thud.
The thing hauled itself up the pier quickly, launching itself against the supine retiree. He brought his foot up just in time to catch it low in the abdomen and halting its momentum. The zombie was so waterlogged and rotten that his shoe pierced the putrid flesh, impaling the creature with his foot. It continued to reach for him with its outstretched arms, apparently unaware of the devastating injury to its midsection.
“Hey!” Asher shouted to the two police officers standing on the shore. “Help!”
The men looked at each other for a moment before acting. They’d heard the news and saw more footage than they cared to about the zombies up north, but they were almost a thousand miles from where the zombies were supposed to be and that way of thinking made them both hesitate. Both officers looked back and forth between the creature and the safety of their police cruiser.
Finally, the younger officer overcame his fear and started running toward Asher, who struggled for his life with the creature on the edge of the pier.
Asher heard the steps of the men running across the wooden planking, but he was helpless to do much more than keep his leg extended out in front of him so he could keep the creature as far away from him as possible. He had to keep his other foot planted on the pier to keep the thing from completely bowling him over. He was thankful that he’d kept himself in peak physical condition. If he’d taken the route that most of his former teammates had done upon retirement, then Asher figured that he’d likely be done for already.
He felt more than saw the police officers skid to a stop near his head. “Get off of him… Uh, sir.”
“Just shoot it!” Asher said through gritted teeth as he struggled to keep his foot against the creature’s spine. It had had redoubled its efforts now that there were multiple targets and it took every bit of Asher’s strength to keep it at bay.
“I… I can’t,” the older cop said. “We have laws and—”
The sound of his partner’s Glock 22 discharging into the creature’s face interrupted his statement.
“Jesus Fucking Christ, Garrett! What the fuck?”
The fight left the zombie immediately and it slumped forward down onto its knees. Asher brought his opposite foot and pushed with everything he had. His foot—and shoe—pulled free and the creature tumbled into the Gulf with a loud splash.
“Holy shit! Holy shit! I just killed someone…” the kid muttered as he stared at the zombie floating face up in the water.
Asher stood up and clapped him on the back. “Thanks. I don’t have anything on me that could have killed that thing without getting myself infected.”
Garrett looked up from the body and focused on Asher’s face. “What was that?”
“That was a Type Two zombie,” Asher answered as he wiped gore from his shoeless foot onto the pier. “You need to get the governor’s office on the phone and tell them that there are zombies down here… Immediately.”
The older officer held up his hands, “Now wait a minute. Who the hell are you to tell us what to do? I ain’t reporting anything until we’ve done our investigation.”
“Don’t be stupid, officer. That was a zombie. It came out of the water and attacked me. Just report it and let the people at the state capitol determine the response. The important thing is to get this out there. People need to know if these things are coming from the Gulf. You can bet your ass that they’re coming from the Atlantic too. They’re trying to flank the perimeter that the government is setting up.”
The younger of the two had recovered enough to speak. “Come on, Mr. Hawke, all the reports that we’ve gotten said that they’re up north, but to be on the lookout for strange behavior.”
“My foot going into somebody who didn’t care that it happened to him would be pretty strange behavior, don’t you think?”
“Who are you?” Garrett asked.
“I’m former military,” Asher said, which was technically true. “I fought against these things last year. That’s a damned zombie in western-fucking-Florida—”
Asher stopped short and then looked down at the floating body. “Holy shit. I didn’t even think of that, Rachel must have been attacked by that thing.”
He replayed the incident in his mind as the officers asked questions that he ignored. She’d been sitting with her feet near the water and then suddenly screamed when he was bent over taking off his shoes—one of which was now missing in the creature’s abdomen. That was why he couldn’t find her, not a rip current below the surface of the water.
He sat heavily on the wooden pylon and rested his forearms on his knees. “I think I know what happened to Rachel,” he muttered as he looked up at the police officers.
“What’s that, Mr. Hawke?” Garrett asked.
“I think she must have been attacked by that thing.”
“Then where’s her body?”
“I don’t know. Fuck. She trusted me to protect her from those things. Goddammit, I—”
“Mr. Hawke, calm down. Getting upset about things isn’t going to help matters,” the young police officer said.
Asher looked hard at the man for a moment and then let it go. “Are you going to call the state government about the zombies?”
“We’ll ask our chief,” Garrett replied.
“And I’ll have to report the shooting. Damn! Hold on, I’ve gotta go call this in.”
Things developed quickly then as more police officers began to show up and Garret was relegated to sitting with Asher. The officer took a liking to Boomer and she wouldn’t leave him alone, regardless of how many times her owner tried to coax her away. The new police officers arriving on scene relieved the young officer of his weapon during the initial investigation but other than that, treated him like they normally would have.
Once they recovered the body from the water, it was plainly evident to all the officers who saw it that they weren’t dealing with a person. Under their high-powered flashlights, they were able to see the severe damage that the creature had already sustained from its trip around the tip of Florida and into the Gulf of Mexico. There were zombies coming out of the water on the Gulf Coast.
The police chief called the state investigator’s office immediately and Asher was glad to see the ball get rolling; he just hoped that it wasn’t too late. If all the coastal towns could figure out a way to defend their shoreline against the invading force as they came out of the water, then they might be able to keep the underbelly of the nation safe from the scourge. The next thing that needed to be done was to alert the federal authorities of the situation so they could warn the island nations of the Caribbean and Central and South America.
The expanded investigation determined that with zero evidence to the contrary, the zombie must have killed Rachel. The police let Asher go back to his trailer and had Garrett take him in the police cruiser since he was missing a shoe that must have fallen out of the zombie into the water when they recovered the body. He had to drag Boomer away from the officer when it was time to go; she’d really taken a liking to him.
He cleaned up in his camper’s shower, washing away the filth and gore that had dried to him during the lengthy police investigation. When he came out of the bathroom, Boomer stood in front of the door whining softly. “What is it, girl?”
She glanced at him and wagged her tail, but turned back toward the door and whined again. “You need to go outside?” he said with inflection and she wagged her tail once more.
“Okay, let me get dressed.” Asher put on some clothes and shoes. The dog was acting strangely. She never just stood and stared at the door when she had to go out, she usually scratched at it or came to him and whined. The difference in her attitude was enough to make him grab his pistol and slide it into the oversized pocket of the hoodie that he’d put on to guard against the cold.
He unlocked the door and pushed it out into the night. Boomer almost knocked him over as she darted out the door and squatted less than two feet away. Asher stepped down out of the camper onto the gravel parking pad and walked out into the chilly night. He looked unconsciously toward the Gulf where the incident at the pier had happened.
Asher caught himself staring into the darkness and shook his head. What am I doing? I need to start heading west. The sound of a twig snapping behind him made him twirl and draw his weapon. After decades of training, he dropped immediately into a shooter’s stance with his shoulders squared into the darkness. Nothing moved in the night and he slowly relaxed.
