Cayo Elina, A Zombie Chronicles Novel

Prologue

The world has changed.

Overrun. The state of the world was thrown into chaos by a small team of scientists working at the direction of one man, Doctor Thomas Sentry, who had been looking for a way to defeat death. His goals were met and exceeded by the creation of what he termed ‘the serum’, but there were problems. The first round of testing led to the death and re-life of the very first subject it was given to and he came back with only one thing on his mind; consuming the living to sate his hunger. He was locked down and…fed…while the work continued on the next rounds of serum. As work progressed, the first subject began to regain some of his former personality and developed some amount of control over his appetite. He also resented the fact that he had died in what was assumed to be a non-lethal test and he wanted free. Locked down, patient zero lashed out at the only target he could touch, the guards. His saliva infected one of them and now with two of the dead to deal with, one whose presence could not be so easily hidden from the world, Doctor Sentry began to see his grand vision crumble.

It was time, Sentry decided, to create a new plan. Through his machinations, he took down any researcher he didn’t feel would keep his secrets, feeding them to the undead, but through his own carelessness he became infected as well. Before succumbing to his own creation he made another discovery, anyone the initial infected creature destroyed became subservient to their creator. Before he died, Sentry did two things, he destroyed the zombie that had infected him, patient zero, and he drugged and tied up his fellow researcher on the project, locking her in the room with him. After death, he made short work of his assistant and recovered himself enough to pass among the living while he slowly slaughtered them and created an army. Soon the entire beachfront town where his labs were set up was under his control. Zombies who were over-fed became more than they had been before and Thomas Sentry was the chief among this new breed of super zombie.

These thousands were hungry as well and it was inevitable that there would be problems and soon enough minor outbreaks were occurring in the area surrounding his small city. Realizing one of his minions could infect wide swaths of the population Sentry made it a priority to revitalize any of them with passports. Ultimately, he sent these people out into the world with the goal of infecting large population centers and quickly overwhelming the regional defenses. His plan was a smashing success, his leader zombies, still ‘children’ of his, had taken the most populated countries on the face of the earth and the world, for a brief time, was his. While his zombies were out winning the world for him he turned his mind back to the two strains of serum he had worked up earlier and restarted his research. However, due to his own state of existence, the serums would not work on him; he needed live subjects.

Fortunately, for him, a group of the living arrived at his labs, their intentions were to kill him, but in his super-human state, he easily defeated and captured them. Series two and three were unparalleled successes, but series two ended without replicating. Series three, on the other hand was passed by the subject, known as Max, to his friend, Bill, in an effort to keep him from dying. Bill was hauled from the battlefield by an elderly man, Ruben, who got him to safety before the entire laboratory was destroyed by the next generation of super weapon, a positronic (anti-matter) bomb. Sentry would have escaped even this destructive device had Max and the people who came with him to help not pinned him down.

Bill was determined to return to Iowa and his family and joined up with the Special Forces people who had called the bomb strike down. During their southern journey to the naval base in Fort Lauderdale, Bill realized what he had become and shared the ‘gift’ with a few of the more mortally wounded people he came across. He told them the gift came from Max and gave them a brief history of what the man had done. During their travels, the group came to the realization that Florida was done for. They bugged out by taking a ship around the peninsula to the west and left, with only one of their group ever returning.

Miami was a city contested even when the military pulled out; various naval personnel had ties to the community and stayed to fight along with the remaining citizens, eventually many of them left as well, seeking safer places to live. No one quite ever controlled the city, factions would rise and fall quickly, sometimes gangs would rule, living or dead and sometimes the remaining scavengers would rise up to throw them down. The navy would make periodic visits shifting the power dramatically for the ‘civilians’ while they were in town, but never sticking around with enough force to make a lasting difference.

Many of those who left fled south. Survivors told horror stories to the people about what happened when they tried to travel north, especially along the east coast where Sentry’s lab had been. One group made it all the way to Key West and then kept on going to a small spit of land that used to be a national wildlife refuge. This group renamed their new home ‘Cayo Elina’ after the woman who had led them there.

Chapter 1

‘It’s the Cubanos again.’ thought Elina. ‘At least I hope so.’ She looked out to sea from her post and watched the small watercraft approaching with trepidation. Her fingers nervously fingered the old M-16 assault rifle she carried. It was dark, the moon was hidden behind an overcast sky and the sea was rough. ‘That means it’s the dead. Only they come when the weather is bad.’

It was three years since the fall of civilization. Three long years since the dead had risen and destroyed everything important to Elina.

‘Well, almost everything’ Elina thought wryly, ‘The Cubans are still here and every once in a while I see ships out there.’ It had been months since she saw the last Navy ship, United States Navy anyway. They had been low on fuel and were hoping to scavenge some from the large military base in Pensacola, and that was the last Elina had heard from them.

As women went, Elina was every man’s dream, alive. In addition to that quality she was thirty-six years old, had dark, deeply tanned skin and long, black tresses that reached midway down her back. At five foot nine, she was tall for woman from her family, but not stocky or overweight.

This was her island. She had brought them here, off the southern tip of Florida and she had kept them alive. Originally, from Miami, she had fought her way south in the epic battle that founded what the survivors called Elina’s Key. The battle had made her stronger and not just mentally, killing so many zombies had changed her, as it changed anyone who put the dead back into their place. Now Elina was faster, stronger and had a peculiar ability to read people and see things in conditions that left others blind.

This talent was what had led her to be watching this sandy beach tonight instead of comfortably laying in her hammock with the rest of the village.

Damn it. Elina said softly. She keyed the mic on the walkie-talkie sitting on the crude table in the outpost. Pressing the key twice she waited for the response that was supposed to come. Just when she was getting ready to click the mic again, the response came back; two very soft bursts of static that let her know her message had been received.

Some of the dead could hear really well. Elina doubted this group could hear anything over the sound of the wind, surf and their small motor, but anyone who took unnecessary chances had died long ago. Elina hunched down into the outpost, the walls were three feet thick, made out of bags filled with sand. There were gun slits in three different arcs looking towards the beach. Against the zombies the walls weren’t to provide cover from bullets or explosives, they were thick to prevent them from being able to see the living color that indicated someone was on the beach. The island was dotted with these outposts, which were designed to hamper the undead.

‘It was only later, when we met the Cubans that we realized how well they worked against small arms and grenades.’ Elina thought, ‘Good thing we already had them in place when our neighbors from the south paid a visit.’

The Cubans had tried to take over the key a year and a half ago. They were repulsed with heavy losses. When the devil opened the gates of hell and freed his cursed children onto the world, Cuba was largely ignored, or as the propaganda broadcasts stated, the motherland repelled all attempts by the capitalist, global powers of taking over the country. Popular opinion was that there wasn’t an outbreak there, except, perhaps a minor one brought by refugees fleeing Florida. But the survivors of the outbreak in Miami were all hardened veterans, used to fending off the undead and, as things went downhill quickly, the living.

When the Cubans arrived almost a thousand people populated the island. Well-armed humans who were veterans from fighting all the way down the highway to the tip of Florida. The population of Elina’s Key was not about to back down when the local bully showed up and tried to throw his weight around either. It didn’t help the Cuban invaders at all that many of the survivors were descendants of Cubans who had fled in the 1950’s and had a decidedly negative opinion of the current regime. The fighting had lasted for three days and cost the island two hundred dead, twice that many wounded and almost all of their ammunition. But the Cubans had lost more. A day after the fighting ended the United States Navy showed up and sank the next flotilla of invaders. The admiral in charge had likened it to shooting rats in a barrel, fish, he said, could at least try to swim out of the way, rats, well they couldn’t move that fast.

Admiral Perry had offered to ferry the group to another location, but had admitted there still wasn’t anywhere that he could think of that was safer. So, the survivors stayed and the Navy resupplied them with more weapons and ammunition.

‘Of course that is almost all gone now. A year and a half is a long time.’ Elina realized the island held almost twelve hundred people now, more than before the Cubans came.

Elina? came a soft voice from the back of the dug in outpost. It was Gustavo.

Hey Gus.

What we got here? asked Gus. It was not just a rhetorical question; Gus was nearly blind. Before the outbreak, he had used thick glasses to correct his vision to almost normal, but during the conflict, the glasses had been destroyed. The navy had provided him with a pair that he could use for reading, but the machines they had access to could not manufacture lenses as powerful as he once had.

It looks like a half dozen zeds on a collision course with our island.

Should we flare them off? When zombies or Cubans approached too closely the locals would shoot up a flare, it usually sent a clear ‘stand down’ message to the potential invaders that they were sighted and needed to leave. It was the only warning.

Elina shook her head, No Gus, we’ve warned them off four times in the last week. I think a more direct lesson is needed. We talked about this last night.

The council that ran the island had decided that for the next week all intercepted craft were to be destroyed. Gus frowned and shook his head.

I can’t understand why they still come. They know what we are. Why don’t they learn?

They have. These are probably dissidents they want to get rid of. Elina said.

It had happened before, both Cuba and the mainland sent people to the island to ‘take it over’, knowing full well those that they sent would never return. More than a few of the new residents on the island were Cuban. Elina could read their intentions well enough under interrogation, people sent to be spies and undermine the council were executed, and the others were offered the chance to join the islanders or return to Cuba. Returning meant death, so most opted to stay. A very few asked for, and were given, portage to Key West. They had a community of a sort there, scavenging off the remains of civilization.

Why’d you come Mole? Elina asked, using the pet name his close friends used.

He shrugged his shoulders slightly and replied, You’re out here all alone. I couldn’t leave you.

It clicked in Elina’s mind how he had insisted on operating the radio earlier in the evening as the guards were being selected. The island had six outposts; all the listener had to do was stay awake listening for one of the outposts to call in by clicking their transceiver. Two clicks meant outpost two had contact with the enemy.

Shaking her head Elina said, You didn’t wake anyone else did you?

The watcher was supposed to wake and send someone to the aid of the calling outpost. Gus shook his head, No, there is no need. Everyone else will be fine.

Gus was a precog - he could see the future. It was a powerful ability that no one else had, much like Elina’s ability to see in any condition. Unfortunately, Gus’s ability had limits, he could only see about four hours into the future and he could lose himself in looking at all the possibilities the future held. As he had explained many times, the future didn’t appear to be set; it was like water running down a river, very fluid and chaotic. For this reason his ability was not as precise as remembering the past. Elina had wondered if Gus told the truth about his ability or if he just didn’t dare try to see things further out than what he called his ‘four hour limit’.

The little man was not particularly well liked in the community; aside from Elina, he only had a couple of other friends. His ability made him a social pariah and the fact that he abhorred violence and would sometimes go into a catatonic state at the drop of a hat made things worse. Of course, the fact that he was barely taller than a dwarf and was rumored to be homosexual didn’t help matters either.

‘Creepy, ugly and gay. Who’d have thought he would make a good survivor?’ Elina thought to herself. ‘Plus he hates violence.’

It wasn’t that Gus couldn’t fight. He had gained his abilities killing zombies, just like the rest of them. But aside from the early days of fighting, Gus just wasn’t that useful in a fight. Early on, the battles had been physical confrontations between knife and baseball bat wielding groups against the hands and teeth of the zombies. Now things had progressed once again to firearms and Gus was outclassed by opponents who could see him long before he could spot them.

But he was a good man to have around if the fighting was going to be ‘mano-a-mano’. There was no one Elina would rather have by her side if the fighting didn’t involve firearms, as a point of fact, she’d rather have him covering her back even if bullets were involved. Returning to the issue at hand Elina chided him, The council won’t like that. You know the rules.

The man just waved his hands from within the trench, Bah. Worthless. We are the council, if you ask me.

We are a part of it. There are others to consider. Do you see anything with this group?

No. Zombies were harder for Gus to read; the closer he was to them the easier it was for him to see their intentions and future actions.

Just no? Elina asked.

Slowly Gustavo shook his head, stopping to stare at her eyes in the nearly pitch black night. Although Gus couldn’t see her, he could see her future and often times that meant, he could see where she would be looking. It was a disconcerting paradox that helped isolate him from so many others. I can see you. By ‘see’ he was talking of her future, not, what was physically in front of him. You are pissed….one of them gets away…into the island and we can’t find him. It’s a super, not one just brought back. I don’t know what he wants. You’re mad about something and angry with me. Sorry.

I can’t see myself getting mad at you, Moley. Elina said affectionately. She put her hand out to touch his face, but Gus pulled back.

Hold onto that ‘love’, you’ll need it soon.

I hate it when you do that.

I know. But this time, really remember it, it might help me later. joked Gus.

So what do we do? Just wait?

They walk right up to us.

So? It gets physical? Good, we need to save on bullets. Elina said, And you can help when…Moley? Where are your knives? She didn’t see any weapons on him. The little man stared at her with a blank face. Moley? Elina pushed him and he fell over on his side, catatonic.

God damn it! You saw this coming! She accused, then gently laughed, remembering what he had said only seconds before. You at least could have told me how long it takes for them to get here; you know I hate to wait.

Gus lay in the sandy trench, unmoving, eyes staring wide. He looked dead, but Elina had seen this before and knew he was just seized up.

Without the little man to guide her she risked another quick peek to see where the zombies were. They were busy pulling their little boat up onto the shore through the surf, not scouring the beach or the forest for signs of human resistance.

Six. Elina muttered, Six isn’t so very much. I can take six. And prove your vision wrong too; this river of the future is going to be dammed up, my little friend.

Chapter 2

Two of the zombies were launching their boat back out to sea, the other four were milling about in the waves, attempting to come ashore.

This is fucked, Mole, since when do they insert zombies like this? Attack us, yes, but it has always been direct, never a drop off. Her unconscious friend didn’t reply, "So they are changing tactics on us, huh? It had to happen sooner or later. Do you think they will split up or come inland as a group?

If they are smart they will split up as soon as they hit the beach. I bet a hundred bucks they don’t. I think this is new to them and they won’t know to do that. Elina picked up a small stick that was lying in the outpost with them, on one end there was a small mirror attached. It was supposed to help her look over the berms of the sandbags without giving herself away, but Elina’s vision didn’t do so well with mirrors, it was more of a direct view sort of power; she even had trouble using some binoculars, if they used mirrors at all. Still she raised the mirror and gave it a shot. The best she could do was see when the shadowy forms landed on the beach. They didn’t split up.

Hah! A hundred bucks to me Moley! I’ll collect in the morning. You with me yet? Elina poked him with the end of the stick, he didn’t move. Damn.

Elina squatted down with her machete in one hand; she left the rifle leaning in the corner of the trench. Four zombies, I can take four with one hand tied behind my back. She muttered to herself.

She heard them before she saw them; they were talking amongst themselves, a conversation that abruptly ended when one of them said, That looks like a bunker. Cursing to herself Elina leaped out of the bunker, aiming for a spot midway down the beach, she over shot them.

Of the three zombies one didn’t even spot her jumping, the other three turned and tracked her, one more slowly than the others. They were all carrying firearms. Two had pistols and two were carrying rifles. No one fired their gun at her as she sailed over their heads to land in the soft sand of the beach, fifteen feet away.

It’s her! Run! cried the zombie on the left. He was one of the pistol carriers. The slow zombie turned at the sound of his voice and brought his gun, a shotgun, into line with her. The other two also wasted a moment to glance at their companion who was making a beeline to the trees.

Mierde. Elina said quietly, closing the distance to the shot gunner. He fired as she veered to his right and missed. Elina did not have much of an ability when it came to healing. As far as she knew, she was unique among the most powerful of the humans, who all displayed some form of fast healing when they were injured. She had no illusions of what would happen were she shot; she would die. Elina felt her ability to read people more than made up for it; after all, if she were not injured to begin with, she wouldn’t need to heal. The zombie man parried with his shotgun, trying to deflect Elina’s first blow. The hack at his head had only been a feint and her blow landed in the things rotted chest, breaking ribs and tearing out its foul heart, but not slowing it at all.

‘I should have aimed deeper to nick his backbone.’ She thought, watching his movements even as she sought to keep an eye on his companions. One, the female with what looked like a revolver was moving forward to help her friend, the other had turned and started running after the first zombie.

Elina feinted low and the zombie stepped back and tried to shoot her with the gun. She knocked his barrel aside contemptuously with the machete and with her free hand; she punched him square in the face. He fell backwards, twitching; his face a ruined wreck of mangled cartilage, bone shards and crushed flesh.

The woman leveled her revolver at Elina and fired rapidly. Elina dodged out of the way of the bullets, seeing where each was going to be fired as the woman shifted her aim. Spinning and whirling Elina’s machete took off the zombie’s arm midway between her elbow and wrist.

The zombie didn’t pause she swung her other hand around and punched at Elina, catching her in the right breast. The blow was powerful too, enough to cause Elina to suck in her breath and turn away for a moment with tears springing into her eyes. When she spun about again the woman was standing over her companion, giving Elina a defiant look, ichor dripping from her severed arm onto the sand by her companions form.

Elina started forward, trying to goad the zombie into moving, to give herself away, but the woman was staying perfectly still. ‘Interesting,’ thought Elina, ‘she is trying to keep from telegraphing her actions. I’ve gotten too predictable and they are trying a new tactic on me.’

Bringing the machete up in a fast slice to catch the zombie off guard almost worked. The woman nimbly backed off and avoided the blow, launching a kick in return, a kick that almost connected. Elina was concentrating on the zombie’s body, watching it for every impulse and sign of movement. The zombie stepped back and assumed a ready position again.

Stepping over to the severed hand of the zombie woman Elina examined her unmoving foe. In a blink, she squatted down and retrieved the pistol from the zombie’s hand. The zombie gave up her unmoving stance and launched a pre-emptive attack as Elina pulled the revolver up into position.

The first kick missed Elina’s head by a millimeter; the punch with her severed arm grazed Elina’s shoulder and peeled the skin off under her light t-shirt. The knee aimed at her face was avoided entirely and then Elina responded, not with the pistol, but by shoving her machete straight into the zombie’s stomach, it emerged mid back from her torso. The blade of the machete was not made for thrusting, but for cutting and Elina angled it sideways as she pulled it back through the zombie’s body, severing the thing’s spinal cord. The zombie woman collapsed, but thrust out at Elina’s legs with her hands as she fell. The move caught Elina by surprise and knocked her backwards, but it only delayed the inevitable, she rolled to her hands and knees, and then climbed to her feet where she loomed over the crippled zombie. The male zombie was still twitching; he had not recovered from the damage to his head yet.

Elina glanced up the beach for the other two; she didn’t spot either of them.

Why’d you come here? Elina asked the woman on the ground.

As expected, the woman didn’t answer. She did lob a hefty bloody glob of spittle at Elina and it struck her mid chest. With an exasperated sigh, Elina brought the machete down on the woman’s head, taking off her shielding arm in the process. Another step sideways and her friend got the same treatment.

Elina walked back to the outpost where she saw Mole coming back around. Good fucking timing there, Mole. I thought you said only one got away. I lost two.

That’s odd. Shall we go try and find them?

Will we? Elina asked.

I can’t say. I bet we get one.

I won’t take that bet.

Smart girl. Mole came out of the hole and accompanied her to the beach. He seemed to know right where to go to pick up the zombie’s trail. Without another word, the two took off into the brush, Elina following Mole as he picked up the trail.

He stopped further ahead and glanced up at the trees, pointing at a broken branch laying on the sandy ground, then higher up in the tree. His finger moved from one tree to the next and slowly he started to turn in a circle, until his finger was pointing almost directly back the way they had come. Above them, the zombie was near the top of the tree pulled back into the fronds to the point that even with her eyesight Elina could barely make him out.

With one hand, he had his rifle pointing at Mole and when Mole’s finger pointed at him, he fired. Elina yelled and tried to shove Mole out of the way, but the little man didn’t budge, it felt to Elina, like he was pushing her back, she bounced off of him as the bullet struck him in the center of the chest, blowing blood and bone out between his shoulder blades behind him.

No! Elina screamed as Mole stood there for a moment before toppling backwards.

The rifle barked again, but Elina was already moving before the bullet whistled through the space where she had been standing. She dodged a third bullet and flung her machete with all her strength at the zombie clinging to the tree. The zombie tried to deflect the twirling machete, but he was an order of magnitude too slow. The machete didn’t hit him blade first, the handle struck him in the face, just below the right eye. The plastic handle shattered and the iron tang pushed through his head and into the tree beyond it. The zombie’s rifle clattered against the tree and its body went limp and dangled from where it was impaled.

Elina turned to Gus, knowing there was nothing she could do, but determined to try. She knelt in the sand at his body and watched as he breathed his last. She pushed her hands onto his chest to staunch the bleeding; the bones gave away like a sponge.

God damn it Mole! You were right I am pissed at you. You pushed back! I could have gotten you out of the way you…you! I love you Moley! I don’t want you to die!

See? I told you. His voice was raspy and wet.

What? through her tears Elina could see the little man breathing, with a bloody smile on his face.

You’d have been shot. You were going to take a bullet for me and I couldn’t let you do that. I love you too.

Like a brother! I meant like a brother!

I know. He said with a small smile, You don’t have to clarify for me. Mole pushed himself up onto his elbows, Oh. He slunk back down to lay on his back.

Don’t move! I’ll get the doctor, she’ll fix you up.

Mole’s hand grabbed her arm as she started to get up. Elina. Don’t. Just stay with me for a minute. I’m going to be okay.

Oh Moley! Elina’s tears glistened in her eyes, giving truth to his lie.

Listen to me Elina. I am going to be fine. I...I’m a Maxson.

Chapter 3

A Maxson? You? Elina whispered the shock in her voice carried over the salty air.

It isn’t like it’s a badge you wear on your forehead or something. Anyone here could be.

But…you?

Don’t act so surprised. You must have suspected.

‘Suspected? That he was gay, sure. That he was the carrier of a humanity ending disease?’ Elina shook her head.

Maxsons. Or more properly, Max Sons, they were living zombies. They carried a form of the plague that didn’t kill the living; it just made them into something else entirely. The rumors were that they were the next step in the chain of human evolution and that they could pass on this step, not only through their children, but also through their bodily fluids. Elina looked at Gus again, in the dark he stared back at her.

I couldn’t tell you. I didn’t want…

Elina cut him off with a sharp wave of her hand, We all have secrets. Do you think you know everything about me?

Gus shook his head.

You didn’t owe me that secret, Moley. Friends watch each other’s backs and keep their secrets too.

I know. I’m sorry Elina.

Elina looked at the little man, tentatively she felt his chest, and the bones seemed to be back in place and resisted her hand this time. It’s okay, Gus, really, you didn’t have to tell me. Well, until now, I’ve seen some things. We’ve all seen some things, but I’ve never seen anyone take a round to the center of the chest like that and live. Unless it’s a zed.

No, that’s not what I am sorry for.

Eh?

It passes through blood, Elina. Gus looked pointedly at her blood soaked hands.

Elina raised her hands to her mouth in horror, pulling them away at the last instance.

Oh, Moley! What have you done? What have you done? Elina asked softly, staring at her hands with wide eyes.

I should have told you.

We don’t know that I’m infected. It can’t be that virulent. I didn’t have any cuts on my hands. I mean how could we know?

True. Nonetheless, I apologize. Help me up and let’s go back before someone notices I’m gone.

Pulling Gus to his feet, Elina gave him a quick hug. I’m still glad you’re alive. Her hug was stiff and forced and Gus shook her off.

No need to lie to me, Elina. I knew you would be mad. I just can’t see if you’ll get over it or not.

Look again in another four hours.

I will. And four hours after that too, until you’re ready to forgive me.

Gus, Elina asked as they walked back to her outpost, Did you…did you see me infected?

That’s a hard one to answer…

Tell me.

In the dark, her night vision allowed her to see him nod his head a single time.

Damn… Elina’s voice trailed off softly, ‘Maybe it is more of a curse than a blessing?’

The sight became much clearer afterward, Elina.

What happens? Will I be sick?

I don’t know. I don’t think so, whatever was going to happen already has.

I don’t feel any different. She said.

Nor did I. We can talk later. I need to be back in camp...soon.

Elina stopped in her dugout and watched as Gus walked back to the village alone through the darkness.

Chapter 4

Spending the rest of the night alone on the beach saved Elina from the commotion back in the village. Gus, just hadn’t gone back, he’d gone back and raised the alarm about an unknown zombie running loose on the island. By the time, Mary came to relieve Elina; the commotion had worked itself into a frenzy.

Good morning Mary. What’s the news? Elina asked, knowing that Gus would have raised the alarm, even if he didn’t think it would do any good.

Elina? You okay? You startled me there; I didn’t think you could see me yet. Mary’s voice was distant, still muffled by the trees and surf.

Yeah, I heard something, figured it was you. Elina said. ‘But I didn’t. I knew it was her. If this is what Maxson gives me, I think I like it." She made a mental note to ask Gus what, exactly were the downsides of the process.

Well, your Gus, he has everyone worked up. Mary finally came into direct view. She was carrying a rifle, an old M-16 that