Winter Apocalypse: Zombie Crusade V

Zombie Crusade V:

Winter Apocalypse

J.W. Vohs

Copyright © 2015 J.W. Vohs

All rights reserved.

ISBN-10: 1508597138

ISBN-13: 978-1508597131

This book is dedicated to the fans of zombie fiction everywhere.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Special thanks to Jay Johns and 3RInteractive for producing our first audio books with expertise and patience.

CHAPTER 1

A tent had been set up near the bridge, just inside the north wall, on the edge of Vicksburg. A few dozen soldiers were still busy clearing the nearby battlefield, collecting the remains of their fallen comrades and vengefully destroying any wounded hunters that lingered amid the carnage as the sun set. Few people were aware that Luke Seifert had been bitten less than an hour earlier, when a partially buried torso with an undamaged head had surfaced from a mound of corpses and latched on to his exposed hand. The only public reaction from Jack Smith and Carter Wilson had been an order to the field commanders in charge of the grisly clean-up to proceed with extreme caution when they resumed full-scale operations in the morning. Inside the tent, Gracie Bauman, Luke’s distraught fiancé, had asked for a moment alone with the mortally wounded young warrior. Jack and Carter, consumed by guilt and grief, respectfully stepped outside so the teens could grieve in private.

Gracie’s eyes were shining with unspilled tears, but her voice was strong when she declared, “We’re going to get married.”

Luke spoke gently, “I’m so sorry, baby. I know we were supposed to get married and move to Middle Bass Island and have a bunch of kids.” He looked away, unable to meet the gaze of the young woman he loved more deeply than he would ever be able to explain this side of eternity. He knew he was breaking her heart but still held up his bandaged hand. “You know what this means; you know we don’t have a future in this world anymore.”

“I’m not talking about the future,” Gracie replied evenly. “I’m talking about right now. You are going to marry me tonight.”

Luke started to object, but Gracie raised her hand, “Just hear me out. I know what that bandage means, but I also know that you’re still here with me now. Maybe we can’t have fifty years together as man and wife, but I’ll take whatever I can get. I want to be—no, I need to be, your wife. It will give me strength, no matter what happens.”

“I’ll do whatever you want,” Luke promised as Gracie pulled him close. She nuzzled his neck and breathed in his scent before resting her head on his chest and listening to the sound of his strong, steady heartbeat.

Jack slumped to the ground and held his head in his hands. His younger brother, David, who was basically a surrogate father for both Luke and Gracie, had returned after radioing Fort Wayne with news of the day’s stunning victory. David and Carter knew Jack well enough to understand that he wanted to be left alone, so they watched him from a respectful distance. He was trying to process a roller coaster ride of events, starting with the destruction of  Barnes’ main army here at the walls of Vicksburg. After victory was secured and the mad general had turned tail and run, Jack had ventured out to the edge of the battlefield to meet with his best friend, his brother, and the young man Jack now knew to be his own son.

He couldn’t stop watching the vivid sequence of events play over and over in his mind: David telling them that Jack’s high school sweetheart, Maggie, had been pregnant when she broke up with him and moved to Cleveland. The dream-like realization that Maggie and Luke’s mother, Margaret, were the same person. The moment shattered when a hunter’s head burst out from the under the dirt and sunk its teeth deep into the flesh of Luke’s hand. Jack had reacted quickly, repeatedly smashing the creature’s skull with his halberd, but Gracie’s scream was still echoing in his ears. The scene that followed that scream played out like an epic Hollywood tragedy:

Where patches of ground not covered by corpses could be found on the wrecked fields lying below the Vicksburg Bridges, triumphant soldiers silently knelt, weary and grieving, recognizing to their sorrow that the line between victory and defeat was too thin to notice in the immediate aftermath of battle. These gore-covered warriors had given every ounce of strength and valor in a doomed struggle they had somehow won, yet even now the sacrifices continued. The red-rimmed eyes of every soldier gathered on this section of the battlefield solemnly watched two of their great captains frantically treating an injury the legendary Luke Seifert had somehow suffered after the main fighting was over. A wail of anguish had floated across the smoke-shrouded, ghastly killing-ground moments earlier, a cry that every survivor had heard more times than they cared to remember since the outbreak of the virus five months earlier.

Four men and one woman huddled quietly together amidst the reverent troops kneeling close enough to see that David was holding Gracie as Carter and Jack quickly applied first aid to the injured young fighter. Luke stood calm and still as Jack and Carter tried a desperate new treatment, carving away the flesh surrounding the injury before squeezing the arm above the elbow and forcing blood to flow all the way to the open bite wound. The bleeding was so great that a small red pool was forming at Luke’s feet.

He stared at the growing puddle of blood with light-headed fascination for a long moment. “You two doctors better find a medic with a transfusion kit unless you want to kill me before the virus does.”

A fearsomely grim-looking Carter muttered, “Them Utah-fellers swear that a few people have survived bites out west by doin’ this.”

Luke somehow managed a wry grin. “Do hillbillies like you know what an urban legend is?”

Jack felt as if he was on the verge of completely falling apart. He couldn’t shake the feeling that the weight of everything he’d endured since the outbreak would soon pale in comparison to what he would face in the coming days. A dark cloud was descending on his sanity as he realized that Luke would be gone within a day or so. In spite of all the losses he had suffered during this war, as well as the horrible deaths he had witnessed (and sometimes caused through poor judgment), Jack felt something akin to panic lapping at the edges of his mind as he tried not to think about having to endure this loss. Training and experience kept him focused on the task at hand, even as he accepted that the treatment he and Carter were administering was hopeless; he’d never seen anyone survive a bite-wound.

Finally satisfied that enough blood had been coaxed from the ragged hole above Luke’s hand, Carter opened a bottle of saline solution and began flushing the injured flesh. “I ain’t no urban-guy, but right now I’m willin’ to try just ‘bout anythin’.”

The hardened veteran choked on his final words before continuing the treatment, his obvious despair immediately noticed by a trembling Gracie. Despite her supreme effort to remain quiet as her friends tried to save her fiancé’s life, a stifled sob escaped her lips before Luke called to her.

“Look at me, Gracie.”

The pretty young warrior turned her tear-streaked face in Luke’s direction, and she barely managed to maintain her composure when she saw his pale face and the blood pooled on the ground at his feet.

Luke gently shook his head while staring intently into Gracie’s eyes. “Listen to me. Every soldier on this field has lost loved ones today, and many others since the outbreak started.”

Gracie pleadingly replied, “But not you, baby, we can’t lose you. The world needs you; you’re supposed to defeat the monsters and rescue the world, remember?”

Luke did remember, and he struggled to reconcile himself to a new fate that simply felt wrong. He tried to rationalize a new point-of-view, but dizziness got the better of him before he could finish his thought, “Gracie, the world needs the idea of me, or just the idea of heroes—“ He swayed a bit, and several hands reached out to steady him.

“We need to get you some real medical treatment,” Jack interrupted, “the sooner the better.”

Luke nodded, but he didn’t feel any sense of urgency. He looked back at Gracie as a feeling of calm settled in his heart and provided his body with a newfound strength. He stepped forward to embrace the woman he loved. He spoke quietly, “This war will never end, and humans will fight for generations for the right to live on this conquered earth. They’ll need heroes, but they’ll need legends, too.”

“But I need you,” she whispered softly.

Luke stepped back and stared into Gracie’s eyes. “These soldiers need all of us. They’ve trusted us to lead them despite the odds, and they’ve paid the blood-price without complaint. They’ve called me ‘sir’ and you ‘ma’am’, even though we’re just kids. They all look at me like I’m a ghost or something after hearing the stories about the way I fight. They give us the best shelters, food, and willingly jump between us and the enemy during combat.” He swallowed hard, then continued without emotion, “Right now I’m going to play my part. And you’re going to help me. How we react in private is our business, but out here, in front of our troops . . .”

“It’s no act, at least not for you,” Gracie observed as she lovingly stroked and straightened Luke’s hair. “You are the hero.” She paused and took a deep, quivering breath. Her voice cracked with emotion when she continued, “And you’ll be a legend long after we’ve won this war.”

Gracie looked over at Jack and recognized the anguish behind the steel in his eyes. She hoped that he, too, could find some meaning in what otherwise seemed to be a senseless sacrifice. 

Carter interjected, “Hold on now, Luke, I’m gonna pour this bottle of Betadine on the wound—don’t know if it burns or anythin’.”

“’It’s not supposed to,” Jack croaked as he held Luke’s arm still.

Luke said nothing as the disinfectant was applied to the injury, nor did he jerk or show any other sign of pain. Carter immediately wrapped a field dressing loosely around the wound as he explained, “Ya might need blood tonight, but right now I wanna let the bite keep bleedin’ as much as possible.”

Luke reached up with his good hand and  gently squeezed Carter’s arm. “Thanks for cleaning it up; if you get tired of being a soldier you’d make a darn fine nurse . . .” Carter just nodded and cracked half a smile as he somehow kept the tears shimmering in his eyes from spilling over.

Then Luke made eye contact with Jack. Even without words, they understood each other perfectly. Jack cleared his throat and looked from person to person in the small group gathered around Luke. “We’re going to walk back to the settlement with our heads held high. We’re going to thank every soldier we see, and pat as many shoulders as we can reach. Luke will walk on his own.” He turned to Luke, “Stay between me and David. If you start to feel lightheaded, let us know.”

Luke leaned over to kiss Gracie on her forehead. “If you lead the way, I know I can make it.”

“I can do that,” she said as she handed him his trench-axe. “Carry this with you. I want these soldiers to see you as a warrior to the end.”

Luke took the proffered weapon in his good hand and turned to face the nearest troops. He pointed the gore-crusted blade in their direction and shouted, “Where’s Barnes now?” The soldiers roared over the hard-earned victory, and they roared for the young man who symbolized strength and hope and fearlessness. These nearby troops realized the gravity of Luke’s injury, and as he walked among them in the rapidly cooling twilight, soldiers spontaneously placed clenched fists over their hearts in a silent tribute of respect. General Smith and four of his great captains, including the bloodied and bandaged young hero, continued their slow trek toward the unbroken walls of Vicksburg.

Gracie came out of the tent and looked at Jack. “Luke would like to talk to you, and I have to locate our minister.”

Jack stood up and started into the tent. “Wait, your what?” he called out after Gracie, but she was already out of sight.

David scratched his head.  “I think she said ‘our minister’ – I didn’t know they had a minister other than Father O’Brien.”

“He ain’t a minister, he’s a Father,” Carter corrected.

“He’s not the only one,” Jack mumbled under his breath as he ducked inside the tent.

Luke was sitting cross-legged on the ground, scribbling in a notebook with his undamaged hand. “Not the only one what?” he asked without looking up.

Jack was surprised by how normal Luke appeared. Other than one bloody bandage, the boy didn’t seem to be seriously injured. Jack assumed that the dim light inside the tent masked Luke’s true condition—he’d lost too much blood not be weak as a kitten.  “Not the only minister; Carter and David were having a theological discussion about Father O’Brien. Did Gracie say she was going to find your minister?”

Luke smiled and met Jack’s gaze. “Yeah, she wants to get married now, before, well, you know. I owe her anything she wants, and I can’t say I’ll mind spending some quality time as a married man.” He fidgeted with his pen and squirmed as if trying to get comfortable on the ground. “I know we are both new to this father and son thing, but I need some, um, personal advice.”

Jack raised an eyebrow and sat down next to Luke. “What’s on your mind?”

“Being married, bodily fluids, and keeping Gracie safe. As far as I know, nothing is 100% sure for preventing pregnancy, so I would have to assume that nothing would be 100% safe when it comes to potentially exposing Gracie to the virus.”

Jack nodded, “We have no idea whether or not the virus can be spread by, uh, that kind of fluid exposure. It’s probably unlikely, but I know you, and even if there is a one in a million chance you wouldn’t risk it.”

Luke leaned back against a duffel bag and sighed. “Yeah, her safety is more important than anything. You just don’t know how much I want her; we’ve waited to, you know, because we knew it was the right thing to do, and we knew that we’d be married soon. I know Gracie, and I know what she has in mind for us after the wedding. I said that I owe her anything she wants, but not if it puts her at risk. I’m even worried about what I should do when we’re pronounced man and wife.”