Zombie Reign (Book 4): Redemption Read online

  Zombie Reign 4: Redemption

  Joseph Edward

  Copyright 2013 Joseph Edward

  Zombie Reign 4: Redemption

  Dedication

  To all of my family and to all of my friends – for the continued support and inspiration!

  THANK YOU to all the fans –

  I appreciate all the support throughout the entire Zombie Reign series!

  To all the new Facebook friends and newcomers to the series – THANKS!

  Remember to visit and “Like” Zombie Reign on Facebook and follow @Zombie_Reign on Twitter!

  “The Nest”

  Chapter 1 – The Arrival

  Tommy, Eric, Justin, Jamie and Tool helped me with the unloading of supplies from the yacht, while Karen took Logan and Claire into the makeshift headquarters that was set up in the clubhouse as part of the “Nest”. The kids needed a good dose of being with someone closer to their age, which was extremely important after all that they had been through. They were forced into adulthood much too quickly with everything that they had experienced in such a short period of time. It was good that there were survivors their own age here on Harsens Island that they could relate to and regain some sense of normalcy back into their lives. I’m sure that their new found friends Brandon and Nicholas felt the same.

  Karen and her old community had some healing to do, but she understood the power that the Judge had over them. She wasn’t one to hold a grudge against anyone and appreciated the fact that she was received back into their fold. She was a living testament to what went wrong in their version of utopia, and hopefully a constant reminder not to repeat the mistakes made in the past.

  We met up with Steve, Kyle and Andrew, who were our initial ambassadors after the expulsion of their leader “The Judge”. They directed us to some additional folks who showed up and assisted us in making sure all of the provisions we brought along were stockpiled in their respective storage locations. The familiar sound of gunfire erupted from near and far, which was actually a positive sign that the fight for survival was alive and well here.

  This crew on Harsens Island had quite a systematic inventory and rationing system, one of the few benefits brought forth from their former leadership. They were thankful for what little we brought along, as it would add to the communal supplies as the preparation for winter was now underway.

  Several of the residents we came into contact with had been involved in the attack on the yacht, which had forced Tommy and the others into the bay while Eric and I were rescuing Karen. There was a barrage of humble apologies, which was quickly accepted by our group as we were now joined for the common good. Forgiveness was much easier to come by in these trying times, as there was little room for holding any animosity among the living. The common enemy was an indiscriminate death dealer and cared little about our differences or allegiances.

  After we were done unloading, we were introduced to the leaders of their recon teams, whose purpose was to establish a defendable perimeter around the island. Of course Steve, Kyle and Andrew may be part of the governing members on the island, but those they introduced us to were the gun for hire types. These folks were extraordinarily ordinary before the zombie apocalypse, but were now coming into their own as the world around us shifted gears. There were a few that stood out amongst our newly found friends.

  There was Elly, who was a professional canine handler before shit hit the fan. It just so happened that her dog, Zeus, was a certified cadaver dog before the virus. She and her husband Bob were the current leaders of the “search and rescue” teams that had been developed under Andrew’s guidance. Elly also provided training for additional canine support, utilizing dogs as an early alert system in conjunction with the island perimeter patrols. While we humans could smell the undead, these dogs had the ability to scent them out well before they were within eyesight. The end result of this defense system is what Eric and I had witnessed earlier with all of the corpses strewn about the perimeter. Zeus was highly protective of Elly around other adults, but surprisingly mellow around the kids in the group.

  This formidable shepherd made me a bit uneasy, after what I had been through losing Kate to one of his brethren. I shuddered to think of the carnage that would ensue if he was to turn on us. That was a concern for Elly as well, because even though he was a certified cadaver dog by trade, he was still protective by instinct. Elly had to be constantly alert and attuned to Zeus in order to make sure that he didn’t have direct contact and bite any of the zombies. Just as if a zombie bites you, biting the zombie meant a guaranteed transfer of the virus. She explained that they had already put down several working dogs already that had turned after contact with the undead. This was no fault of the handlers though, as there were some pretty close calls where the canines sacrificed themselves to protect their handlers. Such was the way with man’s best friend.

  We were also introduced to Jeff, who was an IT specialist, and used his talents to help keep Andrew’s equipment running. He also maintained an electronic record of the supplies in their inventory and had a program he created that would estimate the projected needs of the community. It provided insight as to how long the supplies would last, which were currently estimated at around eight months – as long as the population ratio to supplies maintained “as is”. It was clear that scavenging would be a top priority over the winter.

  While most people had given up their vices due to the priority of survival, Jeff was a chain smoker. It was rumored that one could increase their personal rations by ensuring he had an adequate supply of the cancer sticks, but this was only speculation and never proven. In talking with him, you got the feeling that he was more comfortable in the zombie apocalypse as he could smoke all he wanted at just the right price – free.

  Then there was Phil. He could have been Tool’s long lost twin, and was a sight to behold. Another gentle giant, with tattooed arms like tree trunks, he was a hunter/gatherer. Phil was a skilled fisherman and avid hunter who lived on the land before there was a real need to. He was in charge of a group that gathered the main food supplies and would take his team to the mainland. He had a knack for foraging fuel sources needed to feed the elaborate generator system that was in place. Skilled in both firearms and hand to hand, it was good to have another powerhouse around.

  Phil explained that fishing was somewhat safer than hunting, as there were some deer and other meat sources that had turned or were tainted. Having a large buck become the predator instead of prey was unnerving. The down side to being a part of his fishing team was snagging the occasional “zombie bobber”, which resulted in a lot of broken line and lost lures. Overall, fresh fish was plentiful in the Bay, but if fish started turning there was a good chance that an entire ecosystem would be destroyed and would take us down with it. So far, it hadn’t cycled that far through the food chain…yet.

  We were shown to our living quarters, which consisted of makeshift “units” that were surrounded by a converted drainage ditch system. The ditches had been expanded upon to create a makeshift moat around the area, which was affectionately named “The Nest”. The Nest was one hell of a sight, compared to what we were used to back at Tommy’s. It was difficult to believe that these structures and man-made defense systems were simply a coincidence. I had a hunch that this island was preplanned as a safe haven some time ago, and the Nest was the first of many such facilities that were just beginning to take on their true form.

  The makeshift moat was more of a secondary line of defense, as there were plenty of makeshift barricades. From conex boxes to razor wire fencing, the perimeter didn’t lack protection from the average wandering zombie. If there was a mass attack from a large enough horde, I was sk
eptical that the physical barriers in place would hold up. With all of the sentry stations and active shooters on patrol, I was hoping that I wouldn’t have to find out the hard way.

  Chapter 2 – Truth

  After we had unpacked some of our belongings and began to settle into our new digs, Andrew took Tommy on a tour of the facilities and I was invited to tag along. The balance of the exterior of the clubhouse and remaining grounds were secured through the strategic placement of shipping containers and crude fencing. What Eric and I had seen previously was nothing compared to what we were exposed to once we were given a full tour of the grounds. The entire landscape was nothing short of pure genius. At first glance, I had made note that it appeared that the compound would have been easily compromised. Once we had the vantage point from the inside, it was quite clear how they had maintained and survived.

  The engineering of the grounds was a marvel to behold, but so subtle one could miss the nuances. This was definitely the work of Andrew, which Tommy had described as an “operative”, and I was beginning to believe that his true age was deceiving by design. It was easy to see how the Judge had allowed Andrew into his inner circle as an advisor.

  The pathways that appeared exposed were actually choke points or what is commonly referred to as a “fatal funnel”. While there were heavily fortified entrances and exits for vehicular traffic, the foot paths appeared somewhat less defended. Nothing was further from the truth.

  Much like the Battle of Thermopylae, the islanders would manipulate the zombies into the choke points and utilize a phalanx formation to defend it. Having the zombies funnel into designated “kill zones” helped to ensure that the more structural defense were not being overrun. Using the theory of the path of least resistance, or eagerness to acquire their food source, the zombies would gravitate towards these areas and be cleared out. There were teams assigned to each of these areas and they were efficient as they were effective.

  The corporal punishment technique, as applied by the Judge with the bait pile, was one of the ways in which the community was able to attract large groups of zombies at a time for extermination. This helped thin out the herds and drew the masses away from the compound. As the Judge and his punishment system were now defunct, it was agreed that we would be working on a plan to replace this process by more humane methods. Andrew sat down with us to plan out some new defensive techniques, as we were brought to what he referred to as their “situation room”. It mirrored what Tommy had shown me in his attic, but was much more spread out as the secluded basement area felt more like an old cold war bunker or fallout shelter.

  I began the discussion by suggesting that we build a defensible blind system that would replace the bait pile. Resting high in the trees, one could get enough auditory stimulation out to attract the zombies, who would undoubtedly converge on their prey. There would be a designated “clearing team” who would then clear out the horde from the outside perimeter. These teams would also be elevated and hidden behind cover, to avoid any cross fire or ricochet mishaps. I explained the situation we ran into at the bait pile, where the team was distracted by our arrival and subsequently flanked by runners. That worked to our advantage then, but it wasn’t something I was interested in repeating and being on the receiving end of.

  Andrew and Tommy liked the idea and Phil was commissioned as the lead for the planning and construction of a zombie hunting blind system. The positions would be set apart from the compound, at a considerable distance, and would be placed to the north, south, east and west. That would give the teams adequate coverage and spotting capabilities. It was then that Andrew shared with us their secret weapon.

  There was a console off to the far wall that had a series of knobs, switches and GPS coordinates displayed on a screen. Up above, on the wall, was a map of the island with the corresponding coordinates marked with red dots. As Andrew explained, these were the emergency service sirens that were in place from years prior. The sirens, which were something most people had heard being tested at the beginning of every month, were once useful in warning of severe storms or tornadoes. The system was now used as a sensory flooding device against the zombies.

  While it was recognized that the zombies had enhanced vision capabilities, it had just recently been verified that they rely on auditory stimulus as well. The sirens, blaring at a high decibel level in 360 degrees, resulted in the zombies being stunned and confused. This was utilized very successfully against the runners, which would stop dead in their tracks at the sound of the wailing sirens and spin around while staring at the sky. More than once this technique was used to save the compound from being overrun, but they were careful not to utilize it too often lest the zombies somehow develop an indifference to it.

  Something had to be done with the bait piles, and it was agreed that the remains should be interred in a cemetery on the grounds - lest we forget the needless sacrifice and the horrors the previous dictatorship brought upon the community. Elly and her crew would be assigned the task and additional members were added as the burial team. It wasn’t going to bring the victims back, but it was the right thing to do in order to have closure and begin anew.

  “So,” Andrew asked, “what do you think?”

  “About what?” I replied, “You being an operative, the coincidence that this bunker rests in a country club on an island near the border to Canada, or that you appear much older than you look?”

  “Wow,” he replied, “so much dishonor! Why all the sarcasm?”

  I couldn’t hold back the fact that I thought Tommy and Andrew were still holding out on quite a bit of detail about a bigger picture and the rest of us were all pawns in the game. I wasn’t big on conspiracy theories, but the totality of circumstances as they presented themselves sent off alarms in my head that I couldn’t ignore.

  “For the simple fact that you and Tommy are much too comfortable with our circumstances,” I said, “and much more prepared than I would figure even an ‘operative’ to be.”

  “I see,” said Andrew as he looked over to Tommy. I was watching for some cryptic hand gesture, but instead Tommy simply raised his eyebrows and nodded in my direction. Tommy wasn’t going to join in on the revelations just yet and was waiting to see how Andrew would respond. “Fine, here’s the scoop,” he said as he walked over and grabbed a binder off the desk and tossed it over to me at the planning table.

  The binder was red and black, labeled “ZR-RAD” on the spine and had the cover title “Zombie Reign – Response and Deployment” in bold letters. The large stamp on the cover read “CLASSIFIED”. I looked up at Tommy and Andrew, as they both remained silent and urged me to open the binder with animated non-verbal cues.

  As I opened it and began reading, my heart sank as I began to put all the pieces together. Hindsight was more than 20/20 in this case and everything was starting to make more sense now. Back before the virus there were viral postings on social media and elsewhere about the Department of Homeland Security and connected conspiracy theories of ammunition hoarding, for the purposes of societal subjugation. As it turned out, the DHS was actually stockpiling large amounts of ammo and weaponry in order to supply various operatives and “minutemen” in the event the U.S. military forces were incapacitated. It was the real life preparation for a “Red Dawn” scenario, in which the common citizen would be rallied by their government to quell an invading force. The invading force just happened to be zombies. Truth was becoming stranger than fiction as I read on.

  The use of drones by the U.S. military on domestic soil was developed as the first line of defense in monitoring individuals who were identified as having some connection or involvement with specific terrorist organizations that had joined forces to develop complex biological weaponry to be used against us. The biological weaponry was identified as a virus that reanimated the dead back to life, with the undead now hungering with an insatiable appetite for live human flesh. The transformation had a trigger, but even more disturbing was that it had a controller. As it t
urned out, there were actually people identified that had a genetic mutation that allowed them to control “hives” of the undead once the virus spread.

  The drones were to be utilized to maintain constant surveillance and would, if necessary, be deployed to eliminate any domestic threat. The risk, however, was that the drone strike may set off any weapons or devices housing the virus inadvertently before reaching their intended targets. The manual, as it stated, was designed to provide a response to such an incident.

  That was just the first page.

  “You’ve gotta be shitting me,” I said as I sat back in disbelief, pushing the binder away.

  “Nope,” Tommy replied, “I told you that you had no idea.”

  “You need to keep reading,” Andrew said as he pushed the binder back in my direction.

  “So, all this time,” I said as I paused and tried to sort out my racing thoughts so that I could make a coherent sentence, “all this time, they…we…were preparing for this? Why weren’t we told?”

  “Bush,” Andrew said.

  “This is Bush’s fault too?” I asked trying to wrap my head around that one.

  “No,” Tommy interjected, “it was Bush and the whole public backlash to the WMD incident that led to the war in Iraq and had the new administration terrified of keeping the public informed. They felt that if they released this information that they would lose politically…it was their position that they would appear to be ‘crying wolf’ and that they could contain the situation without the public ever knowing the wiser. Instead of having the world accuse them of orchestrating another ‘invasion’ or a reason to go to war, they decided to handle the entire thing covertly…which quickly became anything but.”

  “No doubt,” Andrew added, “and an understatement if ever there was one. Hoarding ammunition and launching drones domestically didn’t raise any flags, eh? Nope. Not a bit.”