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Authors: Billie Shoemate

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BOOK: The Zombie Letters
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              Dennis Jackson raised his hand. “And just how do you plan on doing that?”

              “There are people inside that don’t agree with what their government is doing. You gotta remember that these Archies were known about in that area for centuries. Legends and myths, yes, but word in that area gets around fast. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to see that the American and Japanese Locke Research Labs had stumbled on something that had some truth to it. The government over there wants to hold onto those damn plants. They don’t even want to hear anything from us about a way to kill the infected.”

              “We don’t even need the plants anymore,” Darin Miles said. “Since we arrived back here, I found a way to artificially synthesize LYNN004. If they are worried about a repeat outbreak, we can develop the weapon at any time. Are they aware of this?”

              “Yes. Yes they are. I have informed them of that.”

 

The President dismissed them and they went on their separate ways. General Teel stayed behind and walked up to his superior, shaking his hand. “Mister President, may I suggest next time a little less transparency with what we‘ve prepared? There will be less of an incident when they get to the pickup point and realize what’s really going on.”

              “Would you rather me tell them straight-up right now? We cannot risk them knowing anything.”

              General Teel sneered and dropped the handshake they had together. “So, you make up this bullshit story about how there are people on
their
side that want to help us? They’re never gonna believe that.”

              “Sure looked like they believed it to me. Think like a politician for a moment, not a grunt.”

              “So, do we still need Doctor Miles?” General Teel said, offering his superior a cigar.

              He shrugged it off. “No thanks. Of course we don’t. The other scientists here know how to synthesize the cure now. We just needed Miles to fill in the gaps for them. The notes on the drug were all we needed, anyway. The four of them . . . they’re the only ones who know where the remaining plants are, they have one with them that knows how to create Lynn . . . and all four of them know what has been omitted from the LYNN file. Miles told them everything. Unfortunate . . . because I like them, but we have to do what we have to do.” He sighed. “I want
all
of the Archies back, you understand? All of them . . . back here. Don’t leave one goddamn seed left. The Prime Minister wants to come back with them and head up the operation. Kinda funny . . . go back to World War II for a second and tell one of our guys that today we would actually be
working
with the Japs to develop potentially the biggest weapon known to man? Crazy how time changes.”

              “You’re not really going to bring the Prime Minister and his people back, are you?”

              “Of course not, for Christ sake. Why do you think we are bringing guns? Listen to me, Teel. Get those plants loaded. Tell them whatever you need to tell them. Then, toss the fucking Prime Minister out of the plane for all I give a damn. Poison his rice, I don’t care. Just get the Archies
back here
. Nathaniel Winters really stumbled on something amazing with his research. I blame myself for all this. I tried to pull him out and take over the drug’s development ourselves, but I gave him a chance to retaliate. I let him live. You know how these projects go if the research finds something successful . . . assimilation is just standard protocol
and
for damn good reason. Once Winters knew we were taking Lynn away from him, he just lost it. I wonder if he ever knew that we wanted the drug for the weapons program. I know my actions may seem harsh, but had I removed Doctor Winters like I should have, none of this would have happened.  As for the four we have here . . . it is not an easy decision to make, but I’m not letting things get out of hand again. The plants will be brought back here and we do what needs done. All the research for Lynn will be done right here . . . in this bunker, on my watch. Like it should have been from the get-go.” The President frowned and decided to grab the cigar after all. “Miles and his friends will be remembered as heroes, hear me? No one knows what was discussed in this room. As far as the rest of the world is concerned, they were killed destroying the plants and their mission succeeded. Their names will go down in history and our lips stay sealed. Personal feelings cannot have anything to do with this. Hell of a deal . . . hell of a deal.”

              “And Powers?” Teel asked.

              “Him too.”

 

              Sergeant Major Alexander Powers had already heard the conversation before he walked into the room to greet them. In a place like this, there wouldn’t be a reprimand or a court martial. Listening in to a conversation like that was punishable by the absolute worst . . . especially considering what they were talking about. Powers had his doubts lately. There were things he had done, especially in wartime like this, which had to be done no matter what. Orders were orders no matter how unethical or looked down upon. That was the way for him. He chose this. This, on the other hand. This was wrong. Alexander had been fighting a great battle within him already, but as he flattened himself on the far wall just outside the doorway where no one was supposed to be and heard their conversation, everything got jumbled up again. This stuff destroyed the world and they were wanting it back. The doctor that had invented the cure was someone they were
still
planning on taking out. Things didn’t used to be like this. Not like
this.
True, he had done some things in his career that were questionable. Some people would have disobeyed at times Powers actually followed orders. It is all about perception, he supposed. Personal limits. Every soldier is still just human inside, no matter how they are trained. Powers had heard stories now and again from his friends who had been in black project situations bigger than anything that happened in Quatar. Some of the stuff asked of
those
guys were downright horrible . . . if the stories were true. Powers really didn’t know if he would have gone the same way or not. It is always hard to tell unless you are actually
in
that situation. This, though . . . he knew what was coming. He knew what they were going to say. He was going along with the operation. Nothing about this seemed right. Powers, of all people. Teel knew he had befriended the four survivors including Darin Miles. For the first time in his career, Alexander Powers knew this was a mission he would not be returning from.

 

One of the General’s men had sent for him. He backed away from the door slowly, waited a moment and walked up to the both of them. He handed out his finest salute. They both casually saluted him back. “This is the guy,” Teel said to the Commander-in-Chief. “Pain in the fucking ass, but I’ll vouch for him. He can follow orders to the T. I will give him that.” He gave Powers a cold stare and walked away, his hands laced behind his back.

              “The General has requested you,” the Commander in Chief said to Powers. Normally, it would have been nice to get
any
detail other that what he’d had lately. The only action he’d seen since getting to the base was repairing diesel engines for the bunker’s APVs until he was sent out to work with Teel’s men. “Nice to see you again, son. Listen . . . I will cut to the chase. How well do you know Doctor Miles, Dennis Jackson, Victoria Rains and Ana Garner?”

              Powers stammered for a moment and looked at his President with a strange look on his face. “Sir?”

              “I asked . . .” he leaned toward Powers, right into his face. He tried to back up, but the President made up for it by leaning forward even further. “I asked . . . do you
know
them?”

              “Yes, sir I do. I had been re-assigned to do the orientations for survivors we bring in . . . alongside the engine shop. They are different than anyone else I’ve met here. I have . . . gotten close to the four of them. They are friends.”

              “Son,” he smiled, backing off and standing with his back straight again. “I need to brief you on something . . .”

 

 

 

V

             
“How’d he take it, sir?”

              “He’ll follow orders. The man may not agree with what we’re doing with the four of them, but he’ll follow orders. They trust him.”

              “And how did you get him to do that? I hear Powers has quite the personal moral conviction. Guy wanted to be a priest before he joined the military.”

              “I wish you could read that file on the Quatar Pass incident. Then, you wouldn’t be doubting him. He has done things far worse under orders. Even if he had his doubts, I offered him something else. Powers is a Lieutenant now. I said that he will be up for a personal review from me again once the mission succeeds.”

              “Oh, wow. That’s really something, huh?”

              “Keep a close eye on Powers. When all of you arrive at the pickup area and the plants are
secure . . . do what is necessary with them
. All of them.”

 

 

             

 

             

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER 15

 

 

 

I

             
D
rops were made all over the world. The LYNN-manufactured gas grenades worked just as Doctor Miles had told them. All over the world, the abominations that were created were overrun and destroyed. Survivors from places thought to be completely devoid of the living, emerged to assist in the relief. Government-run sanctions were beginning to be established in major cities. To those that battled the scourge of death that had taken over every street, it was beginning to appear that mankind would survive.

 

              The plane arrived on the shore off the coast of Japan. A small group of militants met them where they landed and walked them to a place they called ‘The Citadel.’ On the two-day hike, Lieutenant Powers was assigned to the four civilian survivors. He was the one that trained them how to use firearms, how to use the protective equipment that the team used. They were also instructed in basic survival skills. The two-week training they received had hardened them. They were still pretty green, but Powers was amazed at how focused they were. If someone were to stumble upon the team of the military Special Forces elite, they would look into the eyes of the four survivors and have no idea they were civilians.

 

              On the last night, the team and their three Japanese guides made camp about a mile south of the mountain. Bright lights could be seen at the base of the mountain through the dense woods. Someone had set up some kind of makeshift facility there. Through a good pair of binoculars, Darin Miles saw with his own eyes as they made camp for the night, the inflatable buildings built around sections of the forest surrounding the mountain. Roads were made in the areas where they had cleared out trees and armed guards stood at every conceivable entry point. Lieutenant Alexander Powers and Darin Miles sat up standing watch that night, when Powers gave Darin a gentle tap on the shoulder one hour before their watch was up. “Come with me,” he whispered.

 

              They walked about fifty yards away from where the rest of them laid their heads. Powers looked strange . . . the look on his face worried. His eyes darted around everywhere. Darin had never seen him so nervous. “What’s wrong, Lieutenant? Something is bothering you.”

              “I’ve been promoted twice in less than a year . . . rising to a rank that takes decades to achieve. I thought that was strange in of itself, but none of this sits right with me. Before we left, I took an unedited copy of their reports on Fuji before LYNN004 was created. These men we’re travelling with . . .”

              “Wait a second,” Darin interrupted. “You took a file that you were not authorized to take? They’ll put you in front of a jury for that! Maybe worse!”

              “Listen!” Powers whisper-shouted, grabbing Darin by the upper arm. He shrugged himself away and stood face-to-face with him. “These men we’re travelling with are not siding with us. They’re
taking
us to the base. Understand? Our job is not to destroy those plants. We’re here to bring them back. I stole a memo sent to General Teel three days before we left. The team we’re with is supposed to bring the Archies back and turn all four of you, including me, into the Japanese authorities. They’re planning on killing us.”

BOOK: The Zombie Letters
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