Endings: Dystopian Post Apocalyptic Zombie Thriller (Parables From The Apocalypse Book 1) Read online

  World View

  Things were ending. The war was lost. Military command was falling apart, and the government was in disarray. The US was about to become a nation of lost souls. During all the outbreaks and wars, there always remained a sense of control. Some areas fell to ruin, but the big cities survived. Governments, schools and institutions continued to function. Everyone learned to protect themselves.

  This time, it was different. Central control and protection was dying. The rural areas were more prepared, but even the rural areas benefited from a central government and military. The infection had forced the Americas to become a police state, but it worked. People still had jobs, and lives, and families. It wasn't easy, in the Americas or anywhere else. Europe, Asia and Africa didn't have zombie freaks to deal with, but they had their own problems. Especially when the US stopped being their biggest trade partner. North America had been quarantined for a while, but the good old U S of A had been an island unto itself for years. Most Americans couldn't care less about the rest of the world. Canada, Mexico and Central America were lumped into the mix once international quarantine laws took effect.

  It made for some interesting global politics these days. Pundits had been calling for the fall of the American empire since early in the 21st century. Most assumed that it would come in the form of economic collapse brought on by greedy industrialists, or cyber-attacks from third-world computer hackers. Nobody had predicted this. How could they?

  Even to this day, there was still disagreement as to what had brought the freaks about. Generally, scientists were in agreement that it was a genetic mutation. A mutation brought about from decades of messing with the food chain and creating everything from bio-engineered dwarf wheat to cows full of growth hormones. Changing the food supply faster than people's bodies could adapt finally forced Mother Nature's hand. She finally decided to fight back. It started with the cancer and obesity epidemics. When that didn't stop humans in their tracks, she got really serious, and created wave after wave of mutated freaks. Where the scientists disagreed was in how to stop its spread. The government and taxpayers had spent millions on research, with no conclusive solutions.

  Which of course gave the conspiracists plenty of ammunition. Half believed that there was a secret cabal of powerful individuals that didn't want a solution to be found. That somehow, these evil individuals were reaping the benefits of a nation running scared. That this mutation kept people too distracted to notice how big business was breaking laws right left and center. They were all too busy fighting the freaks.

  The religious factions thought this was the apocalypse. Somehow these freaks were foretold in an ancient calendar or cave drawings eons ago. That apparently they were simply vanguards of the second coming. So, they were all running off, making peace with their maker, asking for absolution, and finding ways to embrace the freaks. "Freak Huggers" they were called in the media. Which was a pretty accurate description of their behaviour. It was not hard to understand why there weren't many of them around. They were forever martyring themselves. They believed it was a path to enlightenment and life eternal if you were eaten by a freak. They believed freaks were God's prophets. What a load of crap! Not that it mattered much anymore, Chaz thought. With the latest turn of events, we're all going to meet our maker soon.

  Freak Huggers

  Outside Montgomery, Chaz saw a herd of zombies moving slowing through a farmer's field. They seemed lost. Some corn grew in the field, but it hadn't been tended to for some time. Half the crop looked like it was dying. Even the healthy stalks were unseasonably short. There were two vans parked to the side between Chaz and the herd. Herds looked harmless, moving slowly from a distance, but became lethal when they got close. What they lacked in speed, they made up for in numbers and persistence. The parked vans were likely full of gawkers, just stopped to watch the freak show. People loved to be entertained by the strange and bizarre.

  As Chaz drove by, he realized these weren't just gawkers staring at the less fortunate and feeling smug about their own lives. It was one of those deviant "Freak Hugger" groups. The bumper sticker on the van read "Friends NOT Freaks." The van doors opened, and a bunch of them started walking towards the herd. Chaz hit the brakes hard, and watched for a moment in stunned disbelief. He'd heard of these groups, but had never seen them in action.

  The believers stopped just at the edge of the corn field, and made sure the herd took notice. It didn't take much. A few of them were jumping up and down. "Fools! They're gonna get themselves killed." They were waving their hands over their heads, trying to flag down the herd. "Why people do this to themselves, I'll never understand." Chaz , sitting alone, spoke to no one in particular. Just then a couple of little kids came out of the van. Two small girls around eight or nine years old, in long dresses with bows in their hair. They called to the grown-ups. They were frantically trying to motion the adults back to the vans. The tallest man walked over to the girls, and knelt to talk to them. Chaz couldn't hear, but the girls were shaking their heads. The man took each one by the hand and started walking back to the group. The girls adamantly resisted. They dug in their heels, cried and screamed at the man. One fell into the field, covering herself in mud. The man didn't relent. He picked her up and continued walking as the girl squirmed in his arms. The other girl did everything she could, kicking and screaming now to break free, but to no avail.

  Normally, Chaz avoided domestic disputes. Military protocol was pretty clear about not interfering with the rights and beliefs of citizens. America was still a free country with liberty for all. Chaz wasn't so sure about that today. Right here, and right now, the hatred inside him needed a release. He was tired of losing. He dropped the Humvee into low gear and made a beeline for the gap between the herd and the believers. I'm not interfering with anyone's religious belief, he thought. Just as long as they don't interfere with mine. Today I believe in what I'm about to do. I believe that I am going to rid this country of one large heap of hate in the form of those walking freaks. He stopped the Humvee within firing range of the herd.

  Chaz popped open the top hatch, checked the ammunition clips, and manned the turret. A middle-aged red-haired woman with a face full of freckles started yelling at Chaz. "You have no jurisdiction here. Get your war machine out of our field. You're trespassing on private property. This is our farm."

  "Yes, ma'am, well I am sorry about that, but presidential orders during wartime supersede all private rights and privileges, I'm afraid. I'm obligated by duty and the orders of my commander in chief to rid this land of any and all freaks I see."

  "They're not freaks, we invited them. They're our guests. You're the intruder here; you're not welcome here."

  "Guests, oh, OK, that's different. I'll be sure to thank each and every one of them for visiting before I drop them in the dirt."

  "You're violating our civil and religious rights, you bastard. We have every right to be here and practice our faith."

  "Yes, ma'am, you go right ahead and continue practicing those beliefs. I'm going to do the same. And for the record, here's what I believe. I believe I'm sworn to defend the fine citizens of this great state of Alabama from usurpers both foreign and domestic, and that's exactly what I intent to do."

  With that, Chaz turned the turret and opened fire on her 'guests.' The herd numbered well over a hundred, but Chaz's inventory of bullets numbered well over a hundred times that. The screams and banging on the vehicle from the worshipers was drowned out by the gunfire. Shell casings were flying, the turret was kicking like a mule, and freaks were dropping fast. Head shots worked best, but when you're spraying a crowd rapid-fire style, it's tricky to be accurate. Chaz figured if he didn't get a headshot on the first try, the second attempt would work just as well. It was not like they were running away. Before long, the herd was down for the count. Chaz released the turret controls, and stretched his fingers out. He used to be able to fire a weapon forever when he was younger, but today, his hands ached with the stiffness of age. />
  The taller man who had dragged the two girls spoke to Chaz. "You, sir, have no business here. What you have done is an abomination against God and humanity. The Chosen are his flock, and you massacred them. They are his children the same as you and I. If vengeance were mine to take, I'd send you straight to the fiery pits of hell. But it is not, and I will stay my hand. When your end comes, you'll have to answer for your actions."

  Chaz climbed out of the Humvee and walked towards the tall man. As imposing a figure as Chaz was at six plus feet, muscled from years fighting, with a face that showed every minute of his forty-eight years, none of the believers moved from his path. Chaz had to elbow and push his way to the tall man in the back of the group. "You dragged those little girls into this against their will with no regard for their lives. I don't claim to understand what screwed you people up, but that doesn't entitle you to throw away their lives."

  The tall man looked down at Chaz, undeterred by his physical presence. "These are our children. They're in our care. It's a free country ..."

  Chaz clenched his jaw, and braced himself. "I've had about enough of you and yours."

  Squaring himself with his opponent, Chaz doubled him over with a solid right to the midsection. As the man gasped for breath, Chaz clasped both his hands together, and brought them down hard on the back of the man's head, sending him face first into the mud. "Get up, you piece of shit! I don't care who you are, or what you believe. I'm putting an end to you now. Nobody else needs to die for your pathetic beliefs. Those things aren't the Chosen. They're freaks and monsters. They need to be exterminated like the plague they are. Like you are."

  Chaz reached down for the man, who was gasping for breath and spitting blood and mud. "Get up and let's finish this. Let's see you stand up for your beliefs like a real man."

  A small voice sounded behind Chaz, and he felt a forceful tug on his jacket. "No. Leave him alone. You leave my daddy alone. He didn't do anything to you."

  Chaz turned around, and looked into the face of the little girl with the muddy dress. Between her tears she cried, "Please, please don't hurt my daddy. He's all I have left. He promised to take care of me after mommy left. Please, please don't hurt him. He promised."

  Chaz dropped his guard, and shook his head. He stared back at the man on his knees in the mud, then the girl. "What's your name?"

  "Katie, my name is Katie."

  "Katie, you don't have to do this. You don't have to do everything he says. He's sick. Your dad is sick. You can go somewhere else, you can be with others." Chaz looked up, into the faces looking at him. There was no fear, only disgust in their eyes. Every single one of them looked the same.

  Katie looked back at the people as well, then back at Chaz. "This is my family, they love me. Leave us alone. Leave my dad alone. Just go."

  Chaz let out a deep sigh. He pushed his way back through the group, got into the Humvee, and slammed the door. He hit the gas, showering the group with a spray of mud and dead cornstalks. Back on the main road and heading towards Montgomery, he thought to himself, What the hell was I thinking? Those weren't my kids, or my family. The world has finally gone to shit. Why should I care? Where has that gotten me?

  The exit sign for his intended stop, Maxwell Air Force Base, passed by. Chaz didn't even slow down. There are only so many things in this world you have control over, Chaz thought, and generally that list doesn't include people. Control over other people is temporary at best. Why would anyone want that kind of power? I'm done fighting. I'm done being a soldier. Maybe Abby was right all along. Maybe this was someone else's fight. Here I am, all alone on the losing side of the biggest war that ever mattered. Hatred is my only companion. My only constant. I can only deal with it one way. There's no coming back from that. But first, I'm going to make my peace. I'm going to see my family one more time ... and say goodbye.

  Lobby Standoff

  The last few hours went by in a blur. Chaz drove, barely paying attention to vehicles and buildings around him. Roads around Montgomery were busier than most, and the drivers seemed agitated and erratic. More than once, Chaz was on the receiving end of nasty looks and obscene gestures. Chaz paid no attention. Whether the root of their agitation was his driving or something else, he didn't care. Besides, what were they going to do? Run an armored military vehicle with automatic weapons off the road? When it came to getting what you wanted, Chaz understood better than most that might was right. Until someone bigger and mightier came along he was going to do what he needed to. If that meant driving a few fools off the road, then so be it.

  Lost in thought, Atlanta exit signs came up sooner than he expected. The last few hours had done nothing to dissuade him from the task at hand. The only people that mattered were your own people. That's what those freak huggers had taught him. Hell, that's what a little girl had taught him. Right or wrong, your people are your people. You stick with them for as long as it takes. The navigation screen beeped, informing Chaz he had arrived.

  The sign read "Atlanta City Hall." The streets were pretty quiet for this time of day, but pretty normal for an impending apocalypse. Chaz pulled up over the curb, and onto the sidewalk in front of city hall. No point blocking traffic and pissing someone off enough to vandalize the vehicle. Not that anyone really would, considering what it was. He wouldn't be long anyways. He got out, took the keys and locked it. While no one would likely steal the vehicle, there were enough weapons inside to arm a small gang. No point in giving anyone stupid ideas, he thought. Taking only his sidearm, Chaz walked to the front doors and paused.

  What if he did find Abby and the kids? Would they even want to talk to him? Would they even care? He didn't want much. Just to see them once more, and say his goodbyes. He hadn't thought much further. What if they didn't want him to find them? What if they had as much hate in their hearts for him as he did for those freaks? He did leave them. At least physically, he did. He went off to war, and left them to fend for themselves. He left them to take care of each other, in a way he couldn't. But it was Abby that had left him emotionally. The kids never really had a choice in the whole screw-up. Who did they blame for it? Likely me, he thought. Their mom was always there. She'd never left them, and she was the one that told the story. She could be pretty fair when she wanted to. But this time ... did she want to be?

  Chaz's thoughts were interrupted by the pounding of a security guard on the other side of the doors. He watched Chaz walk up to the doors, then stand there in a daze. After a bit, the guard got a bit suspicious and approached Chaz as his partner watched from the lobby desk.

  "Hey, buddy, you can't come in here with that," he said, pointing to Chaz's sidearm.

  The guard was locking the door when Chaz yanked it open. The guard jumped back and drew his weapon. "Sir, you need to step back and let the door go. I can't let you in here with that weapon." He motioned again to Chaz's sidearm. Chaz noticed the second armed guard standing behind the reception.

  "Look, son, we seem to having a simple misunderstanding. You don't really need that gun out, do you? Don't force my hand here."

  The young security guard glanced back to his partner nervously, but wasn't ready to back down. "I don't care what you think, mister. My partner and I have you well covered."

  Chaz grimaced. "You know, you're probably right. He's got that nice tall desk to hide behind, and he knows full well I'm preoccupied with you. Too bad you don't have a big desk to hide behind, huh? How good of a shot is your partner there? I'm betting you guys don't get a lot of time on the practice range."

  The kid backed up a few steps closer to the desk.

  Chaz went on. "Look, kid, nobody needs to get hurt here. Take a look at me. Do I look like a crazy?"

  The guard didn't answer, but kept his weapon up.

  "Take a look at the insignia on my chest here." He tapped his fingers on his chest. "You know what that is? It's an eagle holding arrows. You ever seen that on a soldier before? I'm guessing probably not. You know what that is?"

 
"What, some medal for bravery or something? I don't know, and I don't care, I just ..."

  "It's a colonel's insignia, son. I'm a colonel in the military. Your military. The military that protects you from all those freaks running the countryside. I'm one of the guys keeping you safe inside these city walls, and letting you sleep safe and sound at night with your family."

  "I don't have a family, I live ..."

  "Look, kid, stop talking and just listen. I'm not just any colonel. I'm Colonel Chaz Sheperd."

  The guard at the desk finally lowered his weapon and spoke. "Billy, damn, it is him. I thought he looked familiar, and he's right. I recognize him from the TV and the internet."

  Billy looked at his partner, then back at Chaz. Keeping his eyes on Chaz, he said, "I don't know who that is. I don't care if he is who he says; we can't just let him in here armed."

  The other guard holstered his weapon and walked around the desk, over to Billy. "Put your fucking gun down before he kills both of us!"

  Billy kept his weapon up, but looked directly at his partner. "No! We can't," he said, shaking his head.

  His partner grabbed Billy's weapon and tossed it behind the desk. "Colonel, we're sorry, what do you need? Anything we can do to help, just name it. I have family down in Louisiana that wouldn't be alive today if it wasn't for you. My name's Elvis."