The Lazarus Impact (21 page)

CHAPTER 42

After dragging the bodies of several dead zombies outside his living area, Wolf settles in for a bit of crisped squirrel and some hot birch bark tea. He flips on a small battery powered radio and twists the knobs until the static clears. He hears a new emergency broadcast.

“Weather patterns are preventing debris from moving west of the impact. The debris cloud is settling, and isolated parts of the northeast have safe air, however it is best to continue using air filtration systems and breathing masks to be safe. The Lazarus condition is now spreading more violently in the form of aggression; specifically by bites from the infected. Remain indoors, and avoid contact with anyone who may be infected.”

Thanks for telling me what I already knew
.
They’re not even letting people know how you can stop these things with a blow to the head
.
Typical politically correct garbage
.
They don’t want to encourage people to kill each other
.

Next he gives the CB radio another try. To his surprise he hears the familiar voice of Spider yammering away with another story of vanquishing the undead. Cough Drop’s raspy voice pokes in with questions here and there.

Wolf jumps into the mix. “Breaker one nine, this is Wolf.”

Spider howls like a wolf. Cough Drop laughs, and so does Wolf. “How you doin’ old buddy?” Spider asks.

“Barely surviving, you know. But tomorrow...”

“There’s always tomorrow.” Cough Drop and Spider deliver Wolf’s tag line in unison.

“You got it,” Wolf responds. “I set up a home camp a little ways off the highway. Close enough to poach supplies if I need any, but far enough not to be detected by anyone. Only problem is every once in a while I get some stragglers, some poisoned people wandering around in search of flesh."

"Not too shabby, considering," says Spider.

"Any news since we spoke last?" Wolf asks. "I’ve pretty much been living in the woods.”

“Well it looks like we got ourselves another civil war brewin’ up at the quarantine,” Spider answers.

“How do you mean?” Wolf asks.

“A bunch of people from the east were mobbing up and trying to break through the barricades just west of Pittsburgh. Folks on our side are helping the government keep ‘em at bay,” Spider says. “But now it’s gotten pretty serious. No more rubber bullets and water cannons, and every road that goes west out of the quarantine has fightin' brewing up. It’s a border war, and the good guys are losing to the dead guys.”

Cough Drop chuckles. “It might be the only time in history that the mid-west conservatives are on the side of big government.”

“Sometimes you got to protect the homeland from the people at home,” adds Spider. “Get your guns ready, cause the west just got wild again.”

“Might not be worth fighting anymore. I heard there were some meteors further west too, near the Rockies. Unconfirmed though. But I say these borders ain’t going to hold. Better off just holing up and protecting our own now. Pretty soon no place’ll be safe,” Cough Drop adds. “Glad my family and I have been preparing for something like this.”

“Any more info about the disease itself?” Wolf asks.

“They callin’ it Lazarus, named for the meteor,” Spider says. “Lazarus A for airborne, and Lazarus B for the bite kind.”

“Did they identify what it is? A virus?” Wolf asks.

“Don’t know. But another guy on the CB said that he heard some older house pets can turn; weaker domesticated types, but not the younger ones or wild animals. Seems if you’re in better physical shape then it’ll take longer to make you change, at least for breathing it in. When people are bitten I guess it all depends on how severe the bite is,” replies Spider.

“Yeah we thought you’d have changed, being you breathed it all in,” says Cough Drop.

“I did feel quite ill, but then it passed,” Wolf says. “I'm a wolf, so I guess I’m immune since I’m a wild animal. What happens if a wild animal gets bitten by one of the undead?” Wolf laughs.

“Hell, you got me there boss. I got no idea,” Spider says through a laugh.

“Me neither,” Cough Drop adds.

“Say... if we’re close by we should meet up and have ourselves a bar-b-que!” Spider suggests. “I still got about a dozen cases of beer. I prepared myself real good.”

Wolf laughs. “I’m going to ride it out in the woods until all of this passes. At this point it seems more dangerous to be around others than to be alone in the wilderness in winter, no offense.”

“I reckon it’ll be a long while before this one passes,” Cough Drop warns.

“Let’s hope you’re wrong about that one, mate. But if it does pass that bar-b-que sounds like a great idea,” says Wolf.

“Is it true, you know, about Australians puttin’ shrimp on the bar-b-que?” Spider jokes.

“Only when we run out of kangaroo meat,” Wolf says sarcastically.

The three of them laugh.

“I’d better turn in for the night,” Cough Drop says.

“Yeah me too,” says Wolf. “Time to climb up into my tree bed.”

“There’s always tomorrow. Spider out,” he says.

Wolf shuts the radio and disconnects the battery. The silence of the winter’s night fills his ears once again. He puts the fire out and climbs up his tree for another cold, uneasy sleep. A light snowfall coats the sparse oak canopy above. Wolf hears a light rustling in the distance. A few of the dead leaves that still cling to their branches moisten and fall to the ground below. But it’s not that.
Footsteps
.
People
. He hears their voices as they approach. Then the car keys jingle. They’ve set off his trip wire.

CHAPTER 43

“Jingle bells. Dead guys smell. Shoot zombies in the head. Oh what fun it is to die in a zombie apocalypse. Hey! Bleeding on the snow, with the dead piled on a sleigh. Through the woods we go, killing zombies all the way. Hey! Shells from shotguns ring, making brains fly. What fun it is to laugh and sing in a zombie song tonight. Ohh... Jingle---”

“Oh man. Here we go again,” Michael interrupts. “Christmas is over!”

Brandon suddenly goes silent. “Shit, did you hear that?” he asks.

“Yeah, ADD boy. We’re trying
not
to hear it,” Michael adds, winning laughs from the others.

“No, it was a jingling sound,” Brandon explains.

Michael stares at him blankly, expecting it to be some kind of joke. “Maybe it was Santa Claus. His sleigh got knocked out of the sky by meteors,” Michael adds.

“I think I heard it too,” Marcus says.

“I knew we should’ve set up camp while it was still light out,” Brandon mutters.

“Hold it right there!” a voice booms from the darkness. They stop dead in their tracks. “The whole place is booby trapped. You’d better go back the way you came.”

“We don’t want any trouble. Just passing through,” Marcus says as he looks around for the source of the voice.

“Well, pass through somewhere else,” the voice answers.

“Is that Wolf?” Brandon talks to himself. He recognizes the voice, the rustic Australian twang. “Wolf Camden, is that you?” he asks louder. There’s no response.

“Just the man I need to see,” Dr. Vogel adds. “Wolf, it’s your doctor. Dr. Vogel.”

There’s silence for a few moments, then the rustling of tree branches followed by the crunching of snowy footfalls. Wolf emerges from the darkness. “You’ve got some set of stones showing yourself to me,” he stares at Dr. Vogel as he walks closer. “Locking me up like some kind of wild animal?”

Brandon’s jaw drops in awe. He’s star struck. Dr. Vogel bumbles his words, trying to figure out an excuse that might satisfy. But before he can spit out anything coherent, Wolf decks him in the face with a right hook. The blow knocks him off his feet. Wolf stands with his fists clenched in anger.

Marcus tightens his grip on the scythe. “Take it easy now. We said we don’t want any trouble.” Wolf pays no mind to Marcus’ menacing mannerisms. He just stares at Dr. Vogel.

Dr. Vogel spits out some blood in his mask. The shot made him bite his tongue. “You’re right Wolf. I deserved that. But I don’t think you realize how important you might be.”

Wolf takes a few steps forward and stands over Dr. Vogel, fuming as he looks down. Marcus squares up his feet, ready to defend his flock with the flash of his blade if needed.
The living are worse than the dead
, he thinks again, wondering if this is another test. But then Wolf extends an open hand to help Dr. Vogel stand up.

“Holy shit, it’s fucking Wolf Camden!” exclaims Brandon.

“Let’s keep a lid on it, shall we?” Wolf suggests. “Otherwise they’ll find us.”

#

Against his better judgment, Wolf lights another fire for his guests. They’re cold and wet, and he figures the benefits of company and social interaction outweigh the benefits of a good night’s sleep. He’s still leery of them, but after a quick assessment he sees no real threat. They’re just passing through, after all.

“So where are you all headed?” Wolf asks.

“A prepper compound west of here. Not too far either,” Brandon answers. “Would you help us get there?”

“I’m staying here. Going to wait it out until this whole thing passes, and do what I do best,” Wolf says.

“I don’t think this place will be safe for much longer,” Sheryl adds. “The barricades are breaking, and people are carrying the disease west. I mean, we’re all okay. None of us breathed it in or were bitten, but we were there when the quarantine broke. We were only on a small road and it was still bad, so I can’t imagine how insane it is now on the main ones.”

“It’s safe to breathe here, or so I’ve heard,” Wolf says. “I’m doing fine without the mask.”

“You’re a special case, Wolf. It might be safe to breathe but I certainly wouldn’t take any chances. By the way, the samples I took from you were destroyed. I was trying to get them to the CDC. I thought maybe we could figure out a way to stop this disease.”

“How’s that?” Marcus asks.

“Well, I used to work for the CDC. If we were to get down there with someone who’s immune, they might be able to make a cure,” Dr. Vogel explains.

“That’s a long hike,” Wolf says.

“But a noble one,” Dr. Vogel says. “Worth the risk, I’d say.”

“Aye. I’ll give you your samples then,” Wolf says. “But don’t you need some medical equipment?”

“Yes. We could go back to my hospital, but...”

“Bad idea,” Sheryl says. “Hospitals aren’t safe. Trust me.”

“They’ve got medical supplies where we're going,” Brandon says. “You could come with us.” There's excitement in his eyes. The idea of traveling with Wolf is right up there with his thoughts of Apocalypta in lingerie. He has no idea what she looks like, but in his mind she's a hot pin-up or a porn star. And she’d be all over him if she knew he was hanging with Wolf.

“Well, what I was going to say is that samples are one thing, but if I could get
you
to the CDC with me, then we’ll have a better chance at solving this thing,” Dr. Vogel says.

“You have any idea how dangerous a trip like that can be?” Wolf says.

“I can imagine,” says Dr. Vogel.

“On foot no less. The roads are death traps. And you don't think they'll try to lock me away just like you did? Stuff me in some windowless room 12 floors underground behind decontamination walls? No thanks, mate. I’ll help you get to this compound and give you your samples, but that's as far as I'll go.”

“I’ll take what I can get,” Dr. Vogel says.

#

Marcus leafs through the Bible beside the fire, taking note of passages that mention the dead coming back to life.

Michael eyes him and walks over. He scoffs. "You went back to the truck for supplies and this is what you came back with? The Bible and your threshing blade?"

"It's a miracle. Completely unscathed," Marcus holds up the Bible to show him.

"A miracle, eh? So what does your book tell you about what's happening to us all? Is it the end of the world?" Michael asks sarcastically.

"Isaiah says: 'Your dead will live. Their bodies will rise. Hide yourself until this wrath passes by. The Lord is coming to punish the sinners.' And Jeremiah says: 'I will make them eat the flesh of their sons and daughters.' Jesus rose from the dead. Lazarus rose from the dead. Only God can do that... can make people come back."

Michael rolls his eyes. He can't even begin to get into it with Marcus on this stuff. "Ridiculous," he says. "You know... I look at this from a scientific perspective. Zombies aren't fit, as a species. It's survival of the fittest out there, and they’re on the path to extinction. They can't use tools or weapons. They don't think. Their method of reproducing is also their food source
and
a dangerous predator. Humans. Thinking, intelligent humans. Just imagine if every time you wanted to fuck or eat, you needed to fight a tiger that was smarter than Einstein first." The group laughs.

"So then we're in agreement," Marcus says. "The Bible says to wait for the wrath to pass. And you say the zombies are doomed for extinction anyway."

"Yeah but isn't this the end of the world for you?" Michael asks.

"I don't know. Revelation is the book about the end times. It says a beast will come from the abyss and kill us. Our dead will sit in the streets for three days and then rise and strike fear into the living," Marcus explains.

"And you believe this stuff? Like in a literal sense?" Michael asks, this time more sincerely.

"These are prophetic visions. They're not meant to be taken so literally. If you read some of the other zombie passages in the proper element, then nothing really predicts any of this. They're about specific things in the old days. I just look to it for guidance. I recognize that some things are too powerful for me to control, and that there are things bigger than me at work here."

"So you'll just sit around and wait for things to get better? To hell with science trying to find a cure?" Michael asks.

"I never said that," Marcus responds.

"You know what we should do," Brandon jumps in. "We should get suits of armor, so the zombies can't bite us. Imagine how sick it would be to have a full suit of armor? The knights of the apocalypse... That would be a totally kickass video game concept."

"That would make you too slow and noisy," Wolf reasons. "Better off with something like bulletproof vest material, so you can move quieter, quicker, and be more agile."

Brandon nods his head in agreement. "Yeah... we need to get that. Sweet."

The sound of clanging climbing hooks breaks the conversation. Then the sound of pebbles rattling in a can, then car keys.

"Anyone wander off?" Wolf asks. Everyone looks around at each other but no one is missing. "Get ready, or climb a tree. They're coming from both sides. Silent weapons only. No guns," Wolf whispers.

Sheryl and Amy climb up into Wolf's tree. Dr. Vogel grabs a medium sized hunting knife that was plunged into the dirt close to the fire. Marcus stands alert with his scythe in hand. Michael, Brandon and Wolf each grab one of the nearby spears that Wolf sharpened out of branches. They can hear the beasts groaning and shambling through the dead leaves and snow.

Three of them appear out of the darkness. Their eyes glow with pissy bloodshot luminance. Brandon is eager to vanquish them. He plunges his spear into the lead zombie’s face, killing it instantly. The other two reach for him, but Marcus slashes one clean in half at the waist and then stomps on its head. Dr. Vogel jabs his knife down into the top of the other’s skull.

Michael and Wolf fend off two apiece from the rear. One has a busted leg, a twisted torso, and its arm is shorn off clean at the elbow. It was clearly in some sort of car accident. Michael takes that one down first. He clubs it with the spear, knocking it down to the ground easily. Then he steps up and jams the spear down with two hands into the beast’s right eye. Marcus and Dr. Vogel come over to help with the rest.

Brandon takes in the scene. “Awesome.”

“Look out behind you!” Sheryl yells down from the tree top. A zombie runs toward Brandon from further back in the woods.

A loud snap echoes off the trees. Then the woody zipping sound of rope being yanked tightly across tree bark fills the forest. Brandon turns to see a zombie dangling in the air by its feet, hanging upside down from one of Wolf’s snares just a few strides away.

“It worked! Excellent,” Wolf says. “Too bad I didn’t get you in one of my traps, eh?” He nudges Brandon with his elbow. Brandon laughs. “Whew! Smells like shit, doesn’t it?” Wolf holds his nose in disgust.

“The mask blocks most of it, but sometimes I can smell them anyway,” Brandon says. “They piss and crap themselves when they turn. Throw up too. Nasty.”

“Come on then. Let’s go put him out of his misery, shall we?” Wolf suggests.

“Wait, wait!” Dr. Vogel says just before Brandon skewers the dangling beast. “I’d like to examine him first.”

“Be my guest,” says Wolf. “Best to tape his mouth shut, just to be safe, yeah?” Wolf rummages through a pack by the campfire and flings Dr. Vogel a roll of duct tape.

Dr. Vogel manages to wrap the tape around the zombie’s head, covering its mouth. He binds its hands together too as a precaution. First he checks for a pulse. There is one; steady and fast. He presses his ear against the zombie’s chest next, listening for any blockage in breathing. There is none, but the body is cool to the touch. “It’s as if they’re completely rebooted after they die. They breathe, and have a heartbeat. But they’re cold as ice.” Just then a stream of warm liquid courses over Dr. Vogel’s hands as he rests them on the zombie’s stomach. Piss. “Ugh! Digestive system still works too,” he adds as he plunges his hands into some fresh snow to clean them.

“Dude, you just got pissed on by a zombie?” Brandon bursts into laughter. The zombie writhes and struggles as it hangs there. “Can we kill it now?”

“Sure, go ahead. I’m completely baffled,” Dr. Vogel says. Before he can even finish, Brandon has his spear lodged into the beast’s brain.

“They have a keen sense of smell too. For blood. They’re like sharks,” Wolf adds, pointing at the bottom edge of Dr. Vogel’s mask. A line of blood trickles down his neck from under the mask.

Dr. Vogel wipes it away. “That’ll teach you for hitting me.”

“It was worth it.” Wolf smiles. “We have to get out of here at first light. Sheryl’s right. It’s getting too dangerous because of the barricades failing. Get some rest, everyone. I’ll take first watch. If anything happens I’ll wake you up.”