Z.E.D.S. Series (Book 1): Z.E.D.S. Rising Read online

  Z.E.D.S.

  Rising

  Bradley Botts

  Published by:

  Light Switch Press

  PO Box 272847

  Fort Collins, CO 80527

  Copyright © 2016

  Printed in the United States of America

  NO PART OF THIS PUBLICATION MAY BE REPRODUCED, STORED IN A RETRIEVAL SYSTEM, OR TRANSMITTED IN ANY FORM OR BY ANY MEANS – ELECTRONIC, MECHANICAL, DIGITAL PHOTOCOPY, RECORDING, OR ANY OTHER WITHOUT THE PRIOR PERMISSION OF THE AUTHOR.

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED SOLELY BY THE AUTHOR. THE AUTHOR GUARANTEES ALL CONTENTS ARE ORIGINAL AND DO NOT INFRINGE UPON THE LEGAL RIGHTS OF ANY OTHER PERSON OR WORK. THE VIEWS EXPRESSED IN THIS BOOK ARE NOT NECESSARILY THOSE OF THE PUBLISHER.

  Introduction

  The good news is you’re still alive to read this. That means you have survived the undead world in which I have lived. My team and I have prepared for this world for many years. We were mocked when preparation ruled our lifestyle. Citizens laughed at us when we told them we had our own group of organized units for the post-apocalyptic future. Unpredictable test runs, and obstacles were overcome in an elapsed time period. Our faith in ourselves has made us strong, and has protected us against this plague of the infected. My team did not expect the sudden time frame of the complete incident, but we managed to keep our grasp on what we worked for.

  Humans have perished into small numbers. Some have become hunters, as others have become raging addicts of the flesh. Friends, families, and acquaintances have inevitably become our enemies. We have survived this long because of our enthusiasm for the world of the undead but much has been lost. There seems to be no end in sight of the plague. Citizens of the wastelands’ have lost faith in the reconstruction of mankind. People have been dying from starvation, hypothermia, dehydration and transformation since it began. As long as my team keeps putting one foot before the other, this war will be won.

  The United States of America no longer exists. Our region has become a rotten valley of the dead. We have long forgotten about state lines that divided each area. The spread of the disease has claimed every inch of land and there is no safe zone. There were claims of a certain part of the world where there is no infection, but it was never confirmed. The United States government fled to underground bunkers since the beginning, and hasn’t been heard from since. Speculations have eluded from mouth to ear of the contagion exterminating each branch of the union into oblivion. Either way, they don’t exist anymore, and we were left to defend for ourselves.

  This is my story of the apocalyptic world that could not have been avoided. We are the fighters, protectors, and guardians of mankind. We are the strong bind between the line of extinction and survival. The time finally came for the world to need our presence, so we appeared before them. We are here for future generations to come, and to preserve our way of life. Mankind’s existence depends on our existence. We are the ones who stand ground for the fallen, and the ones who will always fight back. We are the Z.E.D.S.

  The Beginning

  The date was August 27, 2011. This was a day that no one will ever forget. It was the start of the decay, and the destruction of society. When reports of the dead seemed frequent across the world, massive chaos dominated our world. The citizens of our town scattered in every direction like cockroaches do when a sudden stream of light shines upon them. Bliss clouded judgment in every ones instincts. They seemed to not have preparation for this situation. The people that had come into contact with the infected before my knowledge were regrettable. My focus was not of the outside world at the time until a sudden noise drew my attention.

  The sun was shining through the window, kissing my back. I felt the extreme heat across my shoulders while enjoying what I never thought would have been my last video game battle. In the moment of putting virtual bullets into my opponents back, the sound of demolition swept passed my ears. The house shook uncontrollably as if an earth quake had appeared. Confused by the enormous distraction outside, I raised from the recliner with my XBox controller in my hand. I quickly stepped towards the door to observe the cause of the sudden noise. As my eyes gazed upon the outside world, I saw people running in every direction screaming and frightened. Still confused with what I was seeing, I slowly turned the door knob and opened the door. While the heat consumed my face, the blinding light from the sun obscured my vision. I placed my hand above my eyes in order to recognize the events taking place. My neighbors were screaming for help, and cars were fleeing down the road with uncontrollable direction.

  As one of my neighbors passed by my door I yelled, “What is going on!”

  All I obtained from her was the frightened look that appeared upon her face. She had no hesitant in keeping her pace while she screamed an arm hair curling scream. As I focused my eye sight to a further distance, I began to see a hoard of people slowly moving down the street. Almost grasping the general concept of the present situation, I did not realize the full extent until I gazed upon one person devouring another. Blood was running like a river down the streets as more people ran passed me with fear and screams. The sky had become hidden with smoke and fire. People across the town were yelling with internal pain.

  As I hastily turned around to enter the house, an image halted my steps instantly. As I slowly turned my head to the side of the front porch, a figure was standing angrily with a dark gaze in its eyes. Blood was dripping from its mouth as its hands were held at its side. The fingers on its hands were black as night with an arthritic curl. A shiver went up my spine as my hands began to shake and sweat. A grotesque, horrific moan ventured from its throat, and it began to charge at me. Its crinkled hands clinched my shirt, and it attempted to apprehend my body for a feast. I removed my arm from its grip, and quickly placed my hands on its chest. I quickly shoved the infected being across the porch, and it staggered into a muffled state. With my survival instinct becoming aware of the situation, I swiftly grabbed the wooden Louisville Slugger resting up against the wall. The smooth wood was gripped tightly with both of my hands, and I swung it with all of my strength. The bat connected to its left temple with a loud crackling sound that followed. It fell to the porch with blood streaming from its skull. I repeatedly hit the walker more and more in the head until there was no facial recognition. The bat was smothered in blood, and my breathing became intense. My eyes were focused on the lifeless body relaxing on my porch. Blood was streaming off the side of the ledge, and I felt regret. My regret was I wasn’t able to help this person before he was attacked. After moments of thought, I finally regained my place. I dropped the bat onto the porch, and ran back into the house. As I shut and locked the door behind me, I leaned against the wall wiping sweat off of my face.

  During our past preparations, we discovered that two minutes and thirty seconds is the allotted time to have everything gathered, and ready to be transported. A duffel bag with extra clothing and non-perishables should already be at hands reach when there is any type of catastrophic event taking place. These are called bug out bags. They contain essentials that are supposed to last at least 72 hours of being without the necessities that we take for granted today such as water, shelter and food. Some people will call it a post-apocalyptic survival kit. Anything that is not gathered in the appropriate time period of transportation, you leave it behind. From then on, it is pure survival and protection. Necessary items are to be gathered ahead of time such as weaponry; protective clothing for all seasons and climates, and extra medical supplies would be a necessity. This last thing is not needed, but I recommend it for future generations. A piece of history should be gathered.

  Trying to catch my breath I ran my hand over my
face to swipe away the salty sweat that was burning my eyes. I turned to my right, and opened my cousin’s bedroom door. I stood in the wooden doorway staring at him and his girlfriend. They were curled up in each other’s arms with smiles on their faces dreaming of something that made more sense than what is actually going on outside our house. I didn’t want to be the one that awakened them and ruin their entire lives, but I have already wasted enough time thinking about their life before today instead of helping them start the new life we have to manage.

  “Brock! Selest! “

  They rise from their sleep and stare at me with a frightened look in their eyes.

  “Get out of bed and gather your things. It’s here.”

  They stared at me for a brief moment puzzled with my command.

  I took another deep breath and said, “It is happening.”

  In one swift motion the covers flew through the air and their feet slid into their shoes. I walked back to the living room to grab my cell phone to notify the rest of our team. We had established in the past a code for this situation in order to reach everyone quickly and effectively. I typed 9337 to my contacts, and in alphabetical form on a telephone 9337 spelled ZEDS. I ran to the upstairs to retrieve my disaster kit and weaponry. My bag consisted of proper articles of clothing, flashlights, batteries, face protectors, gloves, blade sharpeners, knives, water containers, first aid kits, compass and my piece of history, the Holy Bible. I picked the Bible for two reasons; it is the oldest history book ever recorded, and it tells the story of how we began.

  As I worked my way down the stairs, I see Selest gathering all the can food items from the kitchen cabinets and cupboards. As she contained the last of the non-perishables, I grabbed the two jugs of water I had purchased two days before and tied them to my SOG bag. Brock was standing at the front door with a baseball bat in one hand and a sawed off shot gun in the other. My hand caressed the fine grip of a 9mm Beretta I had obtained in basic training that was unbuckled in my holster and a black bladed machete. Selest stood in between Brock and I with the duffle bags. We all took a very deep breath and look at one another. With fright and suspense I placed my machete in its holster and gripped the door knob with my left hand. Anxiety had become my only emotion. My heart began to pound out of my chest as I counted to three.

  As sweat dripped from my face, I counted, “1….2….3!”

  The Ordinary Life

  I’m going to tell you about my life in a previous life I should say considering the one I’m writing this in isn’t the life of ordinary standards. Just like my piece of history I’m going to tell you some of the beginning so that way you know where Z.E.D.S. actually started. In high school a couple of friends and me decided that we wanted to learn how the world would end and what would honestly be the worst case scenario. We all agreed that the dead roaming the earth would be the longest lasting decay of torment that anyone could imagine. Don’t get me wrong about the other entire world ending scenarios such as nuclear war or global warming even though we have been going through global warming as long as I can remember but it was adaptable to the point where we didn’t notice it. Nuclear war would have killed people instantly and whoever was exposed to it could live a certain amount of days before the radiation kills them or even survive it. With a zombie apocalypse people would have to take into consideration about airborne viruses, cannibalism, starvation, years of infection along with the number of infected and so forth.

  As eager teenagers we wanted to discover how it could happen and what we could do to possibly survive it. We developed a team that we called the Z.E.D.S. Zombie Eliminating Defense Squad. It may not sound as awesome as we thought it was, but because of this name you are able to read this right now. Every day after school we had different plans for preparation. We had the team split with three sets of captains. I am one of the captains along the side of me is my co-captain Shaun my younger cousin. He is the younger sibling of Brock and he has really come into his own in the past year when it comes to zombie killing and survival instinct. I wouldn’t have anyone at my side if he didn’t exist. The other captains are all of unique qualities, but we all work together in a way we better understand our equal captain. Strategy has always been a big part of our lives and we are combined with the other captain that can better suit our weaker sides to make them stronger.

  Every day at 3p.m. when school was out or when our jobs didn’t interfere with our preparations each of the combined teams would spend time at the shooting range, outdoor survival classes, gun safety classes and just about any class that we could find that improved our survival skills. We had even met a doomsday prepper who taught us how to make bugout bags and gave us reading material on eatable herbal plants to find in the woods. The techniques to pick up in between our research are always valuable. The more we prepared and could learn the better off our chances are in the apocalyptic world no matter the event.

  When most of us graduated from high school things did change in our lives. We obtained more of a stable foundation to go about our daily lives rather than worry about the “what ifs” of the future. Shaun went on to work for an engineering company after he spent two years with the Marines. He faded away for a time working in different countries doing what he does best, weapon engineering. I had gone on to join the Army Rangers and Brock joined the Navy Seals where he met his girlfriend Selest who oddly enough shared our fascination with zombie apocalyptic culture. That was a match made in Heaven if it were possible. Brock’s company and my unit met up with one another during a mission in Iraq that I guess doesn’t matter if it’s classified anymore or not considering case files and government cover ups aren’t of importance anymore. There was a bio weapon that was being produced and on schedule to be released among Eastern Europe three years before Z-Day. We had managed to erase all memory of any existence that was in the form of that weapon and the people involved in the development of such weapons. We lost a lot of good men to that war and that day when our files were erased from government computers due to our knowledge of that day we were discharged and sent home. Since our return I had taken a job as a sales associate to a wildly known corporation that was known as Wal-Mart. This company distributed everything from electronics, food, outdoor gear, do it yourself project supplies and home decor. Brock and Selest started working for a city contractor in our hometown building new roads. We purchased a home together on a city street that was mostly surrounded by bad luck and rundown shacks but it was home. It was a home full of laughs and memories that no money could purchase. We had planned on fixing it up to a point where it would be a home to our kids. We loved the neighbors and the layout of every inch of that street. On the nights where I’m not on the roof top searching for roamers I think about the home we had left behind and the life that could have been. I miss that home.

  The Beginning Cont.

  My arm came towards me as I kept my hand gripped to the door knob. The door clashed with the wall, and I aimed my gun towards the streets.

  Massive chaos and sirens filled the streets of our beloved town and we could not help but watch as Hell had risen from underneath us. Bodies covered our neighbors’ yards, sidewalks and front porches. Fires consumed acres of trees and roadways. The smell of burnt flesh and gasoline filled our noses in an unbearable way. Every step we took blood passed between our legs and body parts were moved across the lawn by our shoes. My car wasn’t more than ten feet away from our front porch but it seemed a football field away from us. We entered the car and I sat in the drivers’ seat while trying to place my keys in the ignition. Struggling with fear, my hand shook as I turned the key. The window began to crack and the car began to shake as a walker appeared beside my window trying to claw its way in. I reached to my holster and gripped my gun while placing the car in reverse. My Beretta connected to the window toward the zombie, and four shots exited the barrel while Brock’s shot gun obliterated its face to pieces of matter scattered across the grass. Shards of glass surrounded my clothes and as the body fell to the
ground I pressed the gas pedal to the floor and the tires squealed across the pavement. With a firm grip on the gear handle, I shifted the car in to drive and the house disappeared in a blinding smoke in our rearview mirror.

  As fire rained from the sky, I had to swerve abandoned vehicles, and scared pedestrians running down the street. The dead were roaming down every road we had passed. I had Brock dial my father and brothers phones in order to warn them of the current circumstances that is causing an evasion of our town. Luckily, when we talked to them, they had already begun boarding up their homes. My family was always skeptical of my obsessions with a virus that would turn people into the angry cannibalisms with no sense of humanity, but thankfully they remembered the information I had drilled into their heads for many years. I couldn’t commence a rescue mission until all preparations had been put in motion. So I made sure they were safe before I left town. The strategy to our escape was gathering, meeting, and then rescue. As the old saying goes “fail to plan is a plan for failure.”

  As we approached the safe house, a sense of calmness coursed through my body. There were no zombies in sight; the expected vehicles were already on the lot. After I parked the car, Brock, Selest and myself grabbed everything we needed out of the car. We steadily paced towards the door with anticipation to see our team members waiting for us. With a swift knock on the door, one of my closest friends and team members, Mark Gibson, opened the door. He raised his arms and pulled me in for a hug.

  “It’s good to see you brother.”

  With a smile on Mark’s face he said, “I’m glad to see you made it. The rest of the team is here.”

  He guided us inside and blocked the door as we closed it behind us. We sat our supplies on the floor next to the door and Mark led us to the meeting room where all of the team members agreed to assemble.