The Apocalypse Chronicles (Book 3): Rebirth [Undead] Page 6

  "I need something more from you," Philipo said.

  "That wasn't the deal," Joe said through gritted teeth.

  "Let's make a new deal," Ricahrd said, eyes wide. "I'll go with you, fight by your side, if you help. You need a good gun hand and a person you can trust while looking for your brother, and I know how to fly a helicopter, should something go wrong."

  "Look, I'm a man of my word. So help us more or not, I'll still help you find your brother. But I just ask you to hear me out," Philipo interjected.

  Joe thought for a moment. "What do you need from us?"

  "Let me tell you the meaning of our symbol," Philipo started.

  Joe nodded his head, having just heard Philipo's plan. "Okay, but you understand I'm not committing to anything."

  "Make your own judgment. When you understand the man you're dealing with, you know what to do," Philipo responded. "Well let's go talk to David. He's in charge of all the calls coming from Russia and the Eastern European area in general. He hasn't gotten much recently. I guess the calls have been getting fewer and fewer from everywhere, but he has been noting them for the last few months." They walked over to the wall of desks. Sitting at the desk farthest from the glass wall was a younger man, with short brown hair. "David. David. David," Philipo said to him. The man was staring at his computer screen, reading something. "David!" Philipo yelled this time.

  "Yes," David said, turning to face the group.

  "Are you serious?" Philipo asked, almost laughing.

  "What?" David asked.

  Philipo scrunched his brow in annoyance. "I said your name like five times. What are you doing?"

  "I was reading."

  Philipo laughed, astonished. "Really?"

  David threw his hands into the air, waving them and making a Whoaoahaoa sound.

  "Anyway," Philipo said, "what distress calls have you logged from Russia?"

  "Russia?" David asked.

  "Dave, I swear to God."

  "Okay. Wow. He's touchy today," David said to Joe. "Here." He turned and flipped through a notebook. "I've got six pages."

  "Six pages?" Joe asked, discouraged. There was no way they could chase that many signals.

  "Some bad stuff happening everywhere," David said.

  "Can I see that?" Joe asked.

  "Sure." David handed him the notebook.

  Joe scanned through until he came upon an entry that was scratched out. "What is this? Why is this crossed off?"

  "Oh yeah, I recorded all the signals, but after looking at it closely, that one wasn't an SOS. It was just a signal, a repeating pattern that shut down after a little while, probably just a malfunctioning radio getting bursts of power as the grid was dying. So I wrote it off as machine error."

  "No it wasn't. It's a code. It's our code," Joe said, a smile coming to his face.

  "Three beeps, one beep and four beeps. What kind of code is that?" Ricahrd asked.

  "It's 314. It's Kurt. Where was this from?" Joe asked David.

  "Here," David said, pointing to the latitude and longitude recorded on the page.

  "We need to go," Joe said.

  The King's Tower: Outbreak Day +94

  "Welcome To Newlantis! You may call me ‘the king’ or ‘your king,’" the king said triumphantly as he walked out of the door that led to his residence onto the top level of the terraced gardens.

  Joe and Ricahrd stood there with three of the king's personal guards. They had both been searched and stripped of all their weapons.

  "The much-anticipated arrival of my vials. Although a tad later than I had expected," the king said, coming closer.

  Joe looked at the skinny man in front of him. Sickly thin, he reminded him of a drug addict wandering A1A on a late night. The man's mannerisms, the way he swayed and played with his loose white-linen clothes as he walked, triggered the memories even more. "Sorry. We had to take the long route. We ran into some issues at your public dock."

  "Issues?" the king asked, wiggling as he spoke, clearly affected by some kind of narcotic. "Hopefully not too serious."

  "Well we're here," Ricahrd said sternly, not masking his disgust for the man in front of him well.

  "You . . ." The king pointed a lazy finger at Ricahrd. "I've met before. Richard, right?"

  "It's Ricahrd."

  "I think I'll just call you Dick," he said, winking at an unhappy Ricahrd. He turned toward Joe. "You must be Mr. Feller. Tell me, are you a Dick too?"

  "I'm just here to deliver a package," Joe said, smiling a fake grin.

  "Simple, straight to business. Okay. Well I'm glad that's what you're here for. Because I was beginning to think you weren't going to come. I was thinking that I may have to go out and look for you, or that the mayor may not be trustworthy anymore." The king came close to Joe now, whispering to him. "I've had my doubts about him. Thought about maybe supplanting him with someone who can do what they are told." He stared at Joe a little too long. After an awkward few moments, the king took the case from Joe. He opened it. His eyes showed a lust for its contents. "Yes! This is exactly what we need!"

  "Do you have a zombie problem here?" Ricahrd asked, still in his harsh tone.

  "More like a living problem." The king was eerily calm.

  "What does that mean?" Ricahrd asked, afraid of what the answer could be.

  "Well we are running out of space." The king's eyes never left the vials. "And we have a lot of people not adding to our development. Almost the whole general housing district is more of a burden on society than they are helpful. They are so easily replaced. We need to purify Newlantis or we will suffer the same fate as the world. Their laziness was the reason for all this to start with." The king looked up at Joe and spoke to him. "It's just bad genetics. You know. I'm sure you've seen the physically and mentally weak die out since the outbreak or in your military times. You didn't. You're the elite. You, I, even Ricahrd are the hardworking people who matter. Laziness and incompetence are the problem. It got so bad in the world that this plague came to cleanse it. But it was so prevalent that the cleansing destroyed the world. Now we must remove the weeds from our garden before they can spread to the whole of Newlantis and destroy us all. We have the tool. We use this plague for good purposes. I'm going to save us."

  Joe asked the king sternly, "How?"

  "The zombie plague was a blessing, but we didn't have a way to control it. Now we do. This weapon gives us the control we need to use the undead as a tool. I'm going to release infected individuals into the general housing district and close the gates. Then when everyone there is a walking flesh monster, I'm going to use this tool and end it. A culling to save us all."

  "You're crazy," Ricahrd almost yelled.

  "Do you have a problem with my plan? You can go back to your boat and sail away, little errand boy."

  Joe jumped between Ricahrd and the king, both physically and verbally. "We don't care. We aren't here for that. Do what you want with your vials. All I need to know is, do you have my chopper ready?"

  The king smiled a twisted smile. "I like you. It's ready to go, and so is one of my security force to accompany you on your mission while the Boy Scout goes back to his convoy."

  "Thank you, my king, but actually we're both going."

  "Are you sure you don't want someone with balls?" the king asked.

  Ricahrd tried to push past Joe. Joe held him back.

  The king turned with the case, taking a step toward his residence before stopping. "How do you know I won't kill you now? Now that I have the serum?" he asked over his shoulder.

  "Because you won't get any more if you betray me," Joe said.

  "I want more?" the king asked.

  "Yes, you want to be king of more than just this floating pile of rust."

  The king smiled to himself and headed inside.

  Joe and Ricahrd reclaimed their weapons from the guard and started to walk to the heliport.

  The King's Heliport: Outbreak Day +94

  "I can't believe you gave it
to him." Ricahrd had to almost yell over the loud blast of the helicopter's blades spinning up to speed.

  "I need to save my brother," Joe yelled back, covering his face from the wind with his hand. "This is the way."

  "But—" Ricahrd started.

  Joe cut him off. The pilot was ready to go. The fourth man in their party, a man named Teo who worked for the king, waved them forward to board the repurposed Black Hawk helicopter. "Look! We save my brother first. When we get back, then we'll deal with that maniac."

  "You mean if," Ricahrd said.

  "I intend to come back," Joe said with determination. "You're welcome to join me," he said, stepping to the door of the helicopter.

  "Oh, I'm definitely coming back!" Ricahrd shouted, following him.

  The King's Helicopter: Outbreak Day +94

  Joe watched the blue water of the Mediterranean passing by under the helicopter. The occasional whitecap crested, churning the waves below. He was deep in a thoughtless stare, trying to steel his nerves for the possibility of finding Kurt, or not finding him. When the pilot came over the radio, it made him jump, flinching a little.

  "We're approaching our first stopping point."

  "So soon?" Joe asked. "It's only been two hours." Joe was clearly wanting to have more progress today. The pilot took it in stride, not even acknowledging the tone.

  "The first stop is pretty close to Newlantis. After this, it'll take a few days of hopping from oil platform to oil platform to reach the Black Sea. From there, we will start heading inland toward the location of the signal."

  Joe gritted his teeth. He didn't have a choice but to listen to the pilot, but being so close, any delay felt more torturous. This was going to be an emotionally rough couple of days.

  The Russian Cabin: Outbreak Day +98

  Kurt stirred the mixture of tree sap and wood chips he was using to patch the hole in the canoe when Tyler found him. "Hey, man, how's it going?" Tyler asked as he sat down on a rock.

  "Pretty good," Kurt answered, "this whole tree-sap thing is working well."

  "Good, cuz I just checked the shed. We are out of food except for one last bag of dehydrated soup."

  "I know, I was going to tell you tonight. That's why I'm fixing the canoe," Kurt responded.

  "That's the plan, huh? We're going to try to paddle out of here?" Tyler didn't sound super excited about it.

  "Tomorrow's the day," Kurt said.

  "I was afraid you were going to say that." Tyler was clearly dreading getting into the water.

  "Yeah, I'm not looking forward to it either, but now that it's actually getting warm, the river is high enough from the snowmelt. Who knows how long that will last. This may be our only chance to make it past the rocks without tearing another hole in the canoe and ourselves."

  "All right then." Tyler nodded. After a long pause, he said, "Thanks for everything, Kurt. After Liz's sacrifice, I kind of hit a low. Just kind of wanted to disconnect from the world. You brought me back. I'm really appreciative of that."

  "You’re welcome, man."

  "From now on, it's us. No matter what, we survive this shit. We both do, or we both die trying."

  "Okay," Kurt said tentatively.

  "I'm serious, man. That's our pact. No man left behind no matter what."

  Kurt just nodded.

  The Russian Cabin: Outbreak Day +99

  Tyler and Kurt sat in front of the small cabin stove, staring at the fire through the open door. Each of them was holding a cup of soup. This was to be their last meal in the cabin. Each of them stared at the little flame, not saying anything, just lost in thoughts. Consumed by the thought of leaving a place that had become home. Consumed with the fear of the journey ahead and what they may find. Consumed by anxiety from the short time left until they started their journey.

  Kurt had one sip of his soup left. He broke the silence. "Cheers, this place has been good to us. I'm afraid to leave it, afraid of what we're going to find out there. But there's no one else I'd rather face it with." Kurt extended his cup of soup to Tyler.

  Tyler clinked their cups together. "To surviving."

  Kurt drank from his cup and silently thought, please, Joe, watch over me from heaven.

  The Russian Cabin: Outbreak Day +100

  An early-morning sun was fighting the night's cold, creating a fog of freezing mist to rise from the water of the snowmelt-engorged river. Kurt and Tyler carried the now-mended canoe to the water's edge. They loaded it up with all the supplies they had left and pushed it into a small inlet where the current was held to a standstill. Water lapped against the wood of the boat. Kurt and Tyler climbed in, the hull resting lightly on the sandy bottom.

  "Say goodbye to that little cabin," Tyler said. "Say goodbye to home."

  "Thanks for the good times, and the escape." Kurt smiled.

  Together they pushed off and paddled into the slow-moving river.

  The Russian Riverbank: Outbreak Day +101

  "Got it!" Tyler exclaimed as he started the fire. "Gosh that was hard, just a few splashes on the river and that dry wood turns it impossible."

  "Seriously. Well the tent is set up and the canoe is grounded solid," Kurt said while sitting down on a tree stump he had dragged over. "Now that the fire is going, what's on the menu?"

  "Water," Tyler said, displeased.

  "We're out of everything completely, huh?"

  "Not yet, but I figured we'd save the last of it for the morning. Figured we'd need the energy."

  "That's fair." Kurt tossed a pinecone into the fire and listened to it pop.

  Tyler looked up at the clear night sky. It seemed the entire Milky Way was shining extra bright. "It's going to be cold tonight. I can feel it."

  Kurt nodded his head and then smiled at Tyler. "Thank God I still have the tent, huh?"

  "Yeah, thank God you chose to risk your life trying to swim off that island with that backpack on your back."

  "Ha ha," Kurt laughed. "I may not have been fast, but turtles live long lives."

  Tyler smiled while still staring at the stars. "True."

  "Man, I gotta say, I kinda miss those bonfires," Kurt said.

  "Yeah, me too. Even the frozen ones," Tyler replied, now looking at the small fire they had made.

  "Yeah." Kurt was staring at the fire but thinking about the times he had shared with Liz. The real connections they had had. The goodbye he never got to say.

  Tyler broke his train of thought. "You know how they say people are put in your life for reasons."

  "Yeah?"

  "Well I know that you were put in mine to help me survive this, and I appreciate that. I appreciate it all."

  "Well you help me survive and we’ll share a fire back home, huh?" Kurt said.

  "Deal," Tyler said.

  Kurt and Tyler sat watching the fire burn itself to small embers. After about an hour, a rain started that quickly began driving hard, forcing them both to retreat to the tent and away from the warmth of the flame. It was the last warmth one of them would ever feel.

  The Russian River: Outbreak Day +102

  The next morning, Tyler and Kurt were greeted with a thick fog that somehow persisted even in the rain. They carried the canoe to the water's edge and pushed off. They paddled silently, following the gentle flow of the river. After about an hour of paddling, a noise came from up ahead. The noise ahead was instantly recognizable, rapids.

  "Tyler! Get ready!" Kurt shouted from the back of the canoe.

  The current started moving faster, pulling the boat.

  The rapids started with a rock here and there. Tyler and Kurt easily pushed the canoe away from them. Then the churning water turned white. Rocks and boulders began jutting all around them. Tyler and Kurt stabbed wildly at the larger rocks, trying not to capsize. The canoe lurched and rocked, threatening to throw its passengers into the river. Kurt and Tyler fought it.

  In this mayhem, Kurt's ears picked up a strange sound. Through the fog was a noise he hadn't heard in a long time. "Is
that . . ." Kurt started saying while straining to hear and see. In his distraction, he missed a rock with his paddle. The canoe struck hard. Kurt almost fell from the boat. He caught himself on the edge of the canoe but slammed his head into the side of a rock. Blood poured from his forehead as a gash opened. He shook the stars out of his eyes and planted his paddle into another approaching boulder.

  Nearly half an hour passed as Kurt and Tyler navigated the rushing waters. Through grace and luck, they made it through. The water now opened to a lake.

  Tyler was breathing heavily. "Well that sucked."

  Kurt rubbed the bump growing on his head. "Yeah it did."

  "You all right, Kurt?"

  "Yeah, it's just a good headache."

  "Boy did we get lucky there."

  Kurt lifted his boot from the pool of water sitting in the canoe. Water began rushing in. He pushed his boot back down hard. "I don't think we got that lucky."

  "What do you mean?" Tyler asked.

  The Russian Military Outpost: Outbreak Day +102

  "Nothing in this building either!" Ricahrd yelled to Joe as he emerged from the satellite building. "Some spent canteens and food supplies that look like there were left in a hurry, but nothing else." Ricahrd walked toward Joe, continuing. "This is definitely where the signal came from though. There is a phone wired into the satellite's control panel."

  Shit. Kurt, where are you? Joe thought to himself as he scanned the wreck of a military base.

  "Well what do you want to do now?" Ricahrd asked.

  "Hoy! Check this out!" Teo shouted.

  Joe and Ricahrd jogged to where the man had shouted from. He was standing next to a ripped-apart chain-link fence. In front of them in a small lake was a sunken RV with its ass end sticking up out of the water. "Do you guys see that?" Teo asked in a thick Spanish accent. Inside the RV was a body floating dead against the back window. "That could be him?"

  "No," Joe said.