Zombie Night in Canada: Second Period

Prologue

December 9th

Xander was certain he was going to die tonight. In the hallway outside, dozens of infected pounded on the door and walls, trying to get in and feast on the flesh inside.

He shifted his weight, trying to get comfortable. His armour jingled and his fatigues rustled slightly. Beside him, someone coughed into his sleeve.

If I find out who is making that noise, I’m going to kick your ass, Sergeant Simpson hissed. Keep fucking quiet!

The one bedroom apartment the unit was hunkered down in was pitch black, so Sergeant Simpson wasn’t sure who making the noise.

The day had started out like so many others in the past couple weeks, just another routine search and destroy mission into one of the many subdivisions in north Edmonton. The plan was simple; show up and kill every infected person they found and evacuate any survivors, assuming there were any.

The company arrived in their trucks, and First Platoon took up defensive positions around the vehicles, while Second and Third Platoons went into the apartment buildings to clear them of infected. The apartment complex they stopped at wouldn’t have looked out of place in almost any city in North America, a pair of long four storey, wooden frame buildings with a couple dozen apartments per floor. Many of the balconies had BBQs and patio furniture, while others had bicycles or junk stored on them. A slightly faded Canadian flag fluttered from one of the corner patios.

The platoon was clearing the building as normal, with First and Second sections on the top floor, clearing out infected and working their way down to Third and Fourth sections, who started on the ground floor and we working their way up.

Then suddenly a frantic radio message from First Platoon erupted over the TAC radio.

Hundreds of infected…coming out of nowhere… we’re being overrun!

Then a mix of grunts and screams, then static. Messages sent to them went unanswered.

Xander rushed into one of the cleared rooms and looked out the window. A massive group of zombies, hundreds, maybe even thousands, had flooded into the parking lot in the centre of the complex. The laager of trucks was submerged in a sea of crawling undead, and First Platoon was nowhere to be seen, except for the corpses on the ground being feasted on. The lone Bison APC rocked back and forth as the soldiers inside fired desperately at the swarming undead. Several infected looked upwards, noticing Xander and a pair of soldiers from First Section staring down at them in horror. The infected grunted and moaned, then as one, surged forward like an ocean wave on a beach and poured into the apartment buildings, smashing sliding glass doors and windows.

Xander stumbled back into the hallway, shaken.

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We need to get ready to for an assault by these bastards. First section, let’s get the furniture out of that apartment into the hallway. We need to build a barricade. Second section, do the same thing facing the other way near that apartment down there, Sergeant Dan Simpson barked, pointing to an apartment about thirty feet away.

Give me the radio McCauley.

Mack handed over the radio mike.

Third and Fourth sections, get your asses to the top floor and hook up with the rest of the platoon. Hurry! Sergeant Simpson said into the mike, and passed it back to Mack.

The stunned troops stood there frozen.

Move goddamnit!

Xander and the rest of the soldiers sprang into action, running inside apartments and dragging sofas and chairs out into the hallway. Less than a minute later, most of Third and Fourth sections arriving huffing and puffing. Behind them, the stairwells thundered as the hundreds of infected following them shambled up the stairs.

Where are the Lieutenant and Warrant Beauregard? Dan asked Sergeants Deladier and Washington.

No idea. I think you’re in charge, Sergeant Deladier said in between breaths.

Fuck. Get Third and Fourth Sections to help with the barricades, Dan said.

Where the fuck did these assholes come from? Washington asked.

No fucking idea. Let’s get to work, Dan said.

They both nodded and began bellowing orders.

The stomping was getting louder as the seconds ticked by.

Once the barricades were waist high, Dan shouted, First and Second Sections, to the barricades! Third and Fourth, start fortifying those apartments as fallback positions.

Second Section got the far barricade and Dan said, Assault Group Bravo, take your place on the barricade. Charlie, back them up! Delta, stay a few feet back and be ready to support them.

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Andrew and Phillip moved into place at the front of the barricade, and Xander and Thomas stood behind them. The time ticked by with agonizing slowness, then the doors flew open at the end of the hallway and infected poured into the hallway.

Shields up and steady yourselves. When they get close, strike! Martin, Ashton, ready your crossbows and provide supporting fire.

Andrew and Phillip lifted their shields with their left arm, and their maces with the right as the infected stumbled towards them. Frank stepped up behind them and pointed his crossbow over Andrew’s shoulder.

Firing! Frank said. Jack echoed him a second later. Their crossbows twanged and bolts flew into the mass of infected, and one punched into an infected man’s eye socket. The force threw the infected man back several feet. He didn’t get up. As the gap closed, Jack and Frank fired over and over again, taking out infected after infected. At this range, they really couldn’t miss. The group of infected didn’t notice or even slow, and they stepped over the corpses in their efforts to reach Second Section.

Falling back, Frank said, echoed quickly by Jack.

Once the infected were within arm’s reach, Andrew and Phillip began swinging their maces, smashing heads of the infected within reach. Frank fell back to where Mack was. The infected behind them kept coming, first stepping over and then crawling over the mound of corpses in front of them. The seconds rolled into minutes and the pile grew and grew.

You guys ready to switch? Phillip asked over his shoulder after ten minutes of killing infected.

Ready, Xander replied, tapping Phillip on the shoulder.

Okay, 3, 2, 1! Phillip said, sliding to the side so Xander could take his place. Xander swung his mace and killed an infected middle-aged woman. A few seconds later, Thomas replaced Andrew and the two of them went to work killing infected.

Sergeant Simpson ordered, Assault Group Charlie, back up Bravo!

After several tiring minutes, Thomas shouted, There are too many bodies, we need to pull back!

The bodies in front of the barricade were almost waist high, and the infected were crawling over the dead, trying to reach Xander and Thomas.

Okay, Thomas, fall back two steps!

3, 2, 1, now! Thomas said.

They stepped back in unison, keeping their shields high. Xander and Thomas swung their maces until their arms felt like rubber.

Frank, Mack, you guys ready?

Xander felt a tap on his shoulder.

Yep!

Okay now! Xander said, and he slid over to allow Frank to take his place. Mack did the same with Thomas on the other side.

Sergeant Simpson was right there, Okay, take five and when you hear Fourth Section replace Second, you need to get ready to back them up.

Third Section, get ready to replace First on the line, Fourth, take over for Second!

Xander and Thomas walked a few steps and dropped to the floor next to Andrew and Phil. All four were exhausted. Xander took out his canteen and took a big sip, then offered it to Thomas, who shook his head. Xander shrugged and put it back on his webbing. Xander pulled his phone out and looked at the time. He had only been on the line for a couple minutes.

How long do we have to wait until the relief force gets here? He thought. Better not be very long, or we will all wind up meat.

They rested a few minutes, and then got ready to go back into the line. The platoon kept up that pace for half an hour, when gunfire suddenly erupted outside.

Sounds like the relief force is here! Someone shouted.

Everyone who was resting off the line rushed to window to watch the action.

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A quartet of E-LAVs poured fire into the horde of zombies, while overhead, a helicopter gunship rained death from above. Initially, the reaction force pushed them back, cutting huge swaths of undead flesh from the ranks of the swarm outside, but as the fire intensified, so did the number of infected. Attracted by the gunfire, the infected poured back out of the apartment buildings and into the parking lot. Third and Fourth Sections put down the last few infected and just like that, the hallways were quiet. The dead were piled like cordwood everywhere, and brackish blood covered the walls and floor.

Outside, the infected had surrounded the reaction force and began climbing on top of the E-LAVs, pounding on hatches and ports, desperately trying to get inside. Fortunately, the tough armoured vehicles were sturdy enough to ward off such puny assaults, and bloody hand prints and smears did nothing more than stain the outside of the vehicles.

Quick, we need to hunker down in fortified positions until the reaction force deals with the infected. Everyone, stack those bodies in the hall as high and as tight as you can, let’s really jam up these hallways with these corpses, Dan said. Those of you with crossbows, you have thirty seconds to retrieve some of your bolts.

The platoon worked feverishly and within a few minutes, the hallways were stacked with bodies.

Okay, Wilcox, take First Section and occupy that apartment. Barricade the doors and walls and sit tight until help gets here. Stay as quiet as possible, so you don’t attract the attention of any infected outside. Break radio silence only when the ordered to by the relief force. Now go! Second Section, in here with me, Dan ordered. Deladier and Washington, do the same with Third and Fourth Sections in those apartments.

Roger that! You heard Sergeant Simpson, get your asses in gear!

Troops scrambled to comply, doors slamming shut and thumps emanating from the other room as furniture was frantically pushed against the doors. After a couple anxious minutes, they tensed in defensive positions across the room and waited.

And waited. And then waited some more. Sergeant Simpson gave the troops short breaks to prevent anyone from cramping or losing focus. Those on break went into the bedroom and sat down on the floor, drinking some water and grabbing a quick snack from their pack.

The radio crackled, We’re running low on ammo and the infected are obscuring our vision blocks and cameras. We’re pulling back a couple blocks; hopefully we can draw them off you. Be ready to run to the trucks if we give the order. We’ve got a drone outside, so we’ll know when the coast is clear.

Roger that, Sergeant Simpson replied.

We’re not going out there, are we? That’s suicide, Xander asked.

Sounds like it, Barnes. Everyone, gather up your gear and get ready, but don’t touch the barricade yet. We’re not moving until I say it’s safe. Does anyone have any rope in their pack?

The soldiers checked their packs and one by one, shook their heads.

Guess we’re not going out the window then, Thomas muttered.

Xander glanced out the window and he stuffed the rest of his gear into his pack, and then threw it on his shoulder.

Fifteen tense minutes later, the radio crackled again, There’s just too many infected, we won’t be able to extract you. Hunker down and we’ll be back in an hour or two.

An hour or two? Like we’re going to fucking last that long! Xander thought.

Xander glanced across the room. The sofa had been pushed in front of the door and a fridge pushed on top of that. Sergeant Simpson had wanted to nail or screw the dining table and chairs to the wall near the door, but there weren’t any tools in the apartment, so the table was just propped against the wall, with the chairs stacked against it.

We’re not going to last that long. Those fuckers are going to force their way in here and tear us to pieces, Jack said, his voice rising.

Shut the fuck up, Ashton, Sergeant Simpson said. I think the door is about is sturdy as we’re going to get it, but we need to build a fallback position, just in case they do get in here, so let’s build a barricade in the middle of the room, then secure the bedroom too.

In the hallway outside, growling and grunting could be heard, so the section worked quickly but quietly.

Okay everyone, time to refuel. Dig one of your IMPs out of your pack and eat as much as you can stuff down, Dan said.

Before they’d left the base, each trooper was issued a pair of IMPs, and Xander had drawn the short end of the stick when it came time to pick and gotten the shittiest ones. Everyone ate their Individual Meal Packet cold. Some of them tasted pretty decent when eaten cold, but Xander’s omelette with mushroom sauce was disgusting hot or cold.

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About an hour after the relief force retreated, a frantic distress call from someone in Third Platoon was heard, then the radio was silent again. Half an hour later, a similar call came from someone in First Platoon – apparently some of them made it to one of the buildings. Then once again, silence reigned, broken only by the grunts and growls of infected roaming the hallways.

As the day progressed, Xander and the rest took turns standing watch, relaxing and some even trying to nap, although sleeping in their battle gear was uncomfortable and difficult.

Suddenly the wall shook and the radio crackled to life, They’ve broken into our room!

There were shouts and commands as the soldiers fought, Over there Sanchez!

Fall back!

It’s too late!

More shouts and screams mixed with sounds of hand to hand combat, then the radio stopped transmitting abruptly and silence descended once again.

An hour later, the infected found Xander’s platoon.

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

The pounding began and never let up on the door or the walls, as the infected tried to get inside to feast on Xander and his fellow soldiers.

Sometime after it got dark, the radio sputtered, Relief is ten minutes out. Toss out glow sticks and get ready for aerial extraction.

Sergeant Simpson acknowledged and got to his feet, You heard the man, let’s get our asses in gear!

While everyone packed up, Dan cracked a pair of light sticks, opened the patio door and tossed them outside.

Soon, the thumping of helicopter blades pounded down into the apartment, while outside, the infected hammered on the walls and door. For further effect, LAVs below were firing rapidly into the infected milling below on the road, adding to the cacophony.

Deep down inside, Xander just wanted to cover his ears and curl up in a ball, but gritted his teeth and steadied himself as he walked to the patio. Looking at everyone else, he could see most of them felt the same way.

Okay, Wyndham and Hoffmeier are first. Then Barnes and Skinner, followed by Bigelow and McCauley. Ashton and I go last, Sergeant Simpson shouted over the racket of the helicopters.

A rope ladder appeared and Phillip and Andrew went first, climbing slowly but surely up the ladder. An agonizing two minutes later, it was Xander’s turn.

Ladies first, Thomas joked.

Don’t think I won’t go first, Xander replied as he grabbed the ladder and scrambled upwards. As he climbed, Xander looked around and saw five or six other helicopters extracting other troops from different parts of the complex. Soon he was at the top of the ladder and Andrew gripped Xander’s outstretched hand and helped him into the chopper.

Thomas followed right behind, moments later, Frank and Mack climbed into the chopper. Jack, ashen-faced and white knuckled followed, then Sergeant Simpson.

That’s all of my section, Sergeant Simpson bellowed. The crew chief nodded and said something into his mike.

As the helicopter gained altitude and pivoted to head back to the base, Xander wondered, What a cluster fuck. How the hell did I wind up here? Oh yeah…

Part I - Refugee

Chapter 1

October 26th

Xander Barnes was bored as fuck.

When he had driven onto the base yesterday, he felt safe. However, now that he was completely isolated in quarantine, it was one of utter boredom and abject loneliness.

Right after the convoy had pulled onto the base, all the vehicles with civilians were directed towards a small, non-descript building at its southern edge. It wasn’t until after they had stopped that Xander had noticed the razor wire topped fences and guard towers with heavily armed soldiers, all facing inwards – not outwards like the rest of the base.

They had been forced to leave most of their possession in their vehicles, then shepherded unceremoniously into the prison and stripped of everything else and forced into communal showers and told to clean themselves thoroughly. This was all under the watchful gaze of several soldiers, though some of the women commented that it felt more like leering than watching in some cases. After that, they had been subjected to invasive medical inspections, and then escorted individually to sit in their cells.

For Xander, the worst part had been the automatic assumption that he and everyone else were infected. Even after a more than thorough medical that had involved lots of rubber-gloved probing into sensitive areas better left alone and prodding with all sorts of sharp medical instruments to retrieve blood, skin, and even hair samples, they still quarantined everyone in spartan four by eight cells.

Actually, the cells were two metres by three metres, which was closer to six feet by ten feet, but it still felt cramped and claustrophobic. Xander’s had a flimsy cot bolted to the wall with a paper thin mattress on top that offered no support whatsoever. After lying down on it, he wondered if the floor would be more comfortable. At the end of the bed, a locker stood, presumably for his personal effects – all of which were outside in his SUV. The other corner had a toilet and sink and an odd mirror. Closer examination revealed it to be a piece of really shiny metal, not glass.

Probably a safety precaution so inmates didn’t break them and cut each other. Or themselves, Xander deduced.

When he used the toilet, there was no divider and therefore no privacy. However, given that there were no cells on the other side of the hall, it didn’t really matter all that much.

The powers that be went so far as to separate family members from each other, tossing kids into their own cells, albeit as close to Mom or Dad’s cell as possible. Still, that first night, Xander got hardly any sleep, as kids cried and wailed for their parents, while the parents tried desperately to console their terrified children from nearby cells.

Xander didn’t cry himself to sleep that first night, but it had been somewhat frustrating for Xander to spend it alone. For the past six weeks, Xander had spent every night with Evelyn, and while they hadn’t had sex all that often, he had grown accustomed to the warmth and companionship her closeness brought. He thought of masturbating a few times, but every time the thought crossed his mind, his eyes scanned upwards to the camera mounted on the ceiling of his cell. There was no light on it, but that didn’t mean it was or wasn’t operational.

Even all of that wasn’t a big deal, given how exhausted the ordeal had been so far.

No, the problem was being cooped up in this cell and having nothing to do and zero freedom. For the past six weeks, Xander had been able to do whatever he wanted inside the Costco, whenever he wanted to. Sure, he had been surrounded by dozens of infected who wanted to tear him apart, he had to deal with raiders, as well as his asshole-in-law Donald, but it was a hell of a lot better than this - now he was stuck in this tiny cage with no freedom and fucking absolutely nothing to do to while away the time.

So while he sat and stewed alone in his cell as the morning progressed, his anger rose and rose.

It was near fever pitch when a soldier finally came by with breakfast. He accepted it grudgingly and his mood didn’t improve as he ate it. The food was total shit in his opinion. A piece of stale toast with a microscopic amount of peanut butter smeared on it and a glass of watered down juice. Compared to the selection and amount of food he had enjoyed at the Costco, the shit-on-a-shingle served to him was a far cry from the food he had grown accustomed to. Unlike most people in the Capital Region, Xander and his comrades had not experienced much in the way of deprivations. If anything, he had actually been spoiled by the food inside the Costco.

His mood lightened when another soldier came by later with a cart stacked with books and iPods and all sorts of other gadgets. The soldier, Private Davis, had been walking down the hallway for the past twenty minutes, and had had to endure bitching from every cell he stopped at, but he was still fairly polite and friendly to everyone he spoke with. Xander had met him briefly yesterday and grew increasingly impatient as he neared his end of the cell block. He wanted something to do and he wanted it now.

The soldier had just stopped at the cell next to Xander’s when Xander heard a loud snarl in the hallway.

We’ve got infected in one-one-seven, the soldier said into his radio. We’ll need the clean-up crew to check it out."

Xander was already waiting at the bars when Davis stopped and he lunged towards the bars. Davis flinched and his hand went to his pistol instinctively, and his holster snapped as Davis prepared to draw it.

Xander blanched and back-stepped, raising his hands, Whoa, hold on there…

Davis stopped, eyeing Xander and then he slowly secured his pistol.

You need to be careful – I could have shot you, Private Davis said. Thought you turned and wanted to pounce like your neighbor. They should have told you step away from the door when we approach.

I don’t remember that, but they told us way too much stuff to remember it all, I guess.

Well, in the future, when you hear us coming, stay on your bunk or at least well away from the bars. You don’t want us to think you are infected. In here, there’s only one remedy for that, Private Davis said, pointing at his pistol.

Well fuck. I didn’t realize we were goddamned prisoners when we came here yesterday. I thought we were being rescued, Xander groused.

Do I look like I give a fuck? Or that I make policy around here? See that? he said, pointing to the epaulet on this shoulder, That’s the lonely little bar of a private. I don’t get to decide shit around here.

Whoa touchy… Xander replied.

Don’t even fucking start asshole, Private Davis shot back. I’m at the bottom of the totem pole and I get shit on every ten seconds here.

Private Davis paused for a moment and took a deep breath.

Anyways, do you want something to waste your time here – assuming you’re not infected and just going to get shot in the next couple of days? Private Davis gestured at his cart.

What do you have over there? Xander asked.

All sorts of stuff – some iPods, a few laptops, books, games. Feel free to take whatever you want, just don’t break it or there will be hell to pay.

Any idea what’s on any of these? Xander asked, pointing at the iPods.

Fuck if I know, Davis replied.

What’s on the laptops?

Some have movies, some don’t, either way, there is no wireless in here. Not that that matters very much, the ‘Net is down pretty much everywhere anyways, Davis said.

"I’ll take a laptop