Z14 (Zombie Rules)

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Authors: David Achord

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Z14

A Zombie Rules Novel

 

By David Achord

 

This book is a work of fiction. Names and characters are fictitious
, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

©
2013 David Achord. All rights reserved.

Prologue

Chapter 1 – The Captain

Chapter 2 – A Matter of Trust

Chapter 3 – Operation Gas

Chapter 4 – The Journal

Chapter 5 – Fred’s Journey Begins

Chapter 6 – An Appointment With Andie

Chapter 7 – A Near Ambush

Chapter 8 – Fred

Chapter 9 – Julie’s Surprise

Chapter 10 – Kuru!

Chapter 11 – A Newborn

Chapter 12 – A Death

Chapter 13 – Fred

Chapter 14 – Getting to Know Andie

Chapter 15 – Rocky Fork

Chapter 16 - Fred

Chapter 17 – The Loss of Moe

Chapter 19 – Dentistry 101

Chapter 20 - Fred

Chapter 21 - Winter

Chapter 22 – Fred

Chapter 23 – A New Year

Chapter 24 – A Fine Blend

Chapter 25 – Fred

Chapter 26 – The Truck Stop

Chapter 27 – Fred

Chapter 28 – Secret Notes

Chapter 29 - Fred

Chapter 30 – For Macie

Chapter 31 – Carry Your Own Water

Chapter 32 – Fred

Chapter 33 – Rowdy

Chapter 34 – A Most Unpleasant Radio Conversation

Chapter 35 – Fred

Chapter 36 – Arson Most Foul

Chapter 37 – Payback

Chapter 38 – A Message From Above

Chapter 39 – A Family Dinner

Chapter 40 – George

Chapter 41 – Fred

Chapter 42 – Bernie

Chapter 43 – A Sad Goodbye

Chapter 44 – Big Mac

Chapter 45 - The Radio Station

Chapter 46 - Bo

Chapter 47 - The Women of Birmingham

Chapter 48 - Departure Aborted

Chapter 49 - Memory Lane

Chapter 50 – The Long Road Home

Chapter 51 - Prancer

Chapter 52 – A Sentimental Return

Chapter 53 – Oh Rowdy, Where Art Thou?

Chapter 54 – Punishment

Chapter 55 – The Mother Lode

Chapter 56 – Weak Moments

Chapter 57 - Evolvement

Chapter 58 – Bath Water

Chapter 59 - Frederick

Chapter 60 – An Overdue Reunion

Epilogue

Prologue

             
There was a sprinkle of snow dusting the roads as we turned east onto Old Hickory Boulevard from Nolensville Pike. There were eight of us in three different vehicles. Julie sat in the passenger seat.

“Is it going to snow all day, do you think?” She asked.

“I hope so. It’ll make it a whole lot easier for us.” I replied.

We knew the
y were coming. One of our group, a former corporal in the United States Army, had stumbled upon a large mass of them slowly moving down Bell Road at the Interstate twenty-four overpass. He had hurried home and told us about it, estimating there were over a thousand of them. They had probably made it to the Blue Hole Road intersection by now.

They were t
oo close to our homes for comfort. It was unacceptable. We decided something had to be done. So, we took a page from Sun Tzu. We were going to take the battle to them.

Their s
trategy was ingeniously simple, keep walking until you happened upon a food source, and attack it. They had a herd mentality and they followed the path of least resistance (zombie rules nine and ten respectively, in case you’ve not been keeping up), which made it fairly easy for us, in a manner of speaking.

We drove east on Bell Road until we spotted
them. I stopped my truck in the middle of the road, opened my door, and took up a shooting position. The others parked and followed my lead.

“Alright, here they come.” I
said, pointing out the obvious. “Keep your rate of fire calm and controlled, and remember, we only have four thousand rounds of ammo. When they get too close, we’ll pull back a quarter of a mile and do it again.”

             
I heard a few grunts of acknowledgement as I pulled the charging handle on my AR-15.

Chapter 1
– The Captain

             
Fuel was essential. We hadn’t yet acquired the ability to survive without it and we needed it. And, more importantly, we needed a way to transport it.

             
Hence, the need for us to reclaim the five hundred gallon fuel tanker we recently had to abandon. It wasn’t a big tanker hauled by a semi. This type was small enough to be hooked up behind a pickup truck. It was perfect for us, and I assumed the Captain thought the same.

             
It was a muggy August morning by the time we got going. I sat in the back seat of the dually truck and looked at my two friends. Fred, the taciturn gunslinger, and Howard, a jovial father of two sons, were riding up front. Both of them were old enough to be my father, but I considered them close friends anyway.

Fred
took a surreptitious route back to where we had abandoned it the night before. Our plan was to park a safe distance away, sneak up to a suitable spot, and recon the site before any of us went in.

             
We spotted a burned out house on a side street approximately three hundred yards away from our destination.

“Looks like a good place.”
Fred said and parked our zombie-proof truck behind the house. It seemed abandoned, and we assumed as much. I mean, why in the world would zombies be hanging out in a burned out house? Alas, you know what they say about people who assume.

             
“Look out Howard!” I shouted as he stepped out of the truck. Four of them, two adults and two kids, emerged from the charred remains and set upon him at once.

             
Howard began running backwards while attempting to bring his rifle to bear. He ended up falling on his ass. The kids were going to reach him first. Howard froze in fear.

             
Fred calmly stepped out of the truck, drew one of his pistols with lightning speed, and fired four times. The result was four zombies with an extra hole in their respective heads. Howard collected himself, stood shakily, and walked back to us.

             
“Holy shit Fred, you sure can shoot!” Howard exclaimed as he caught his breath. I nodded in agreement. Fred was hell on wheels with his six-shooters. I walked over and looked over the zombies. Even though they were horribly decomposed, the kids looked a lot like the adults. I pointed this out.

             
“They look like a family.” I said. “I think these two are the parents to these kids. They’ve stuck together all these months. And, they were staying inside this house.” I frowned. “Why in the hell were they hanging around inside this burned out house?”

             
“What do you mean Zach?” Howard asked. “They’ve got to go somewhere, don’t they?”

             
“It seems odd Howard. Look at them. Their clothing is not burned or charred, so they went inside the house
after
it had burned. It seems weird to me. I wonder if they lived here at one time. If they did, it means they remembered it somehow.”

             
Howard scratched the small amount of hair remaining on his head. “I think I see what you mean.” He stared at the dead zombies for a minute, trying to figure it out in his mind. “How in the hell did they remember this was their house, and why have they stuck together? Yeah, you’re right Zach, it’s weird, and it’s totally over my head.”

             
I laughed. Fred, as usual, had no commentary on our observations. I guess he had other things on his mind at present. We cleared the house for good measure and then made our way through an overgrown field.

             
“What do you think Fred?” I asked.

             
Fred pulled up the mosquito netting from around his face. The two girls, Julie and Macie, had taken Boonie hats and sewn mosquito netting around them. We all wore them now. They kept all of the flying insects, which were horrendous this summer, out of our mouths, ears, and nose.

             
Fred stretched. “Well Zach, we have three possibilities. They found some lug nuts, put the wheels back on, and took it with them. They abandoned it. Or, they’ve got an ambush set up and are waiting for us to mosey right into it.”

             
He was talking about the tanker we had abandoned the night before. It had several gallons of fuel in it and we wanted it back. As I digested what Fred said, I resisted the urge to scratch the scar on the side of my head. It was healed now, nothing more than a linear scar above my ear, but it still itched constantly.

             
“Let’s work our way closer.” I suggested. Fred and Howard nodded in agreement. We slowly worked our way through a sparse tree line until we got within a hundred yards. As the tanker came into view, we saw a solitary man sitting beside it in a lounge chair. He appeared to be reading a book. A dusty black four-wheel-drive truck was parked nearby. Two block letters were painted in red on the door: W-E.

             
“I’d say it’s the Captain.” Fred whispered. He handed the binoculars to Howard for confirmation. Howard took a short look and grunted.

             
“Yep, that’s him alright.” He lowered the binoculars and looked at the two of us. “Are y’all going to kill him?” He asked. Fred shook his head. He and I had already discussed what to do if, and when, we encountered this man. Since Fred was leaving, we agreed it would be better if I tried to work something out with the man, even though we strongly suspected he was a nutcase.

             
I looked at Howard. “When you first told us about him, Fred and I talked about it at great length. If we kill him, it might eliminate the possible threat, or it may instigate his group to come after us. We’re thinking it may be better to form some kind of truce with him. Besides, I’d kind of like to hear what he says.” I said.

             
I pointed toward the Captain. “How about I drive over there and introduce myself. Fred, you can take him out from here I’m guessing?” Fred nodded as he took the protective caps off of the lenses of his rifle scope.

             
“Howard, is it agreeable with you?” I asked. I remembered how Howard literally shook when he told us of the meeting he had with the Captain not so long ago.

             
Howard shrugged. “It’s your funeral, Zach. I hope you know what you’re doing.”

             
We worked out the usual plan. If I raised my hands, or if any aggressive move was made against me, Fred would open fire. I had a feeling of confidence because Fred did not miss when he shot a firearm.

I walked back to the truck and drove to the waiting Captain.
He looked up from his book as I drove up. It was then I noticed a second chair beside him. He had been expecting this. I parked the truck and exited warily.

             
“Why, I’m guessing you are the young man who penned the note I found on this tanker. You are none other than the mighty Zach, are you not?” He continued without waiting for my answer. “You’re much younger than I imagined. Please sir, come join me. It is my honor to finally meet you.”

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