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Z Day Chronicles: Genesis (Pt. 6)

Chapter 6

By Kameron WilliamsPublished 6 years ago 13 min read
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Commander David Miller led Jake, Dylan, and Cassandra to the Norfolk Naval Base, which has now been set up as a refugee camp. There were hundreds of survivors that had taken sanctuary there. Lines of blood soaked body bags laid outside of the gate. Only a handful of the remaining men, which consisted of different military branches as well as law enforcement, kept watch at the borders.

"Go ahead," Miller said to Jake. "Make yourself at home. Not much, but I know you've been in much worse overseas."

"It was about the same," Jake replied. "Except there were more men."

"Yeah, we lost quite a few. Walk with me."

Jake told Cassandra and Dylan to get comfortable in one of the barracks that others were sleeping in. He then proceeded to walk alongside Miller. As he did, he saw quite a few men, women, and children mourning as if their loved ones have perished in this attack. Volunteers worked in the soup kitchen as other people were being fed with paper plates. The remaining, who were injured and sick, rested in an isolated tent, surrounded by guards and medics away from others.

"What's all that about, sir?" Jake asked, referring to the isolation tents.

"Containment," Miller answered. "If this outbreak spreads, everyone can be safe in case they're infected."

"Outbreak, sir?"

"Surely you would've guessed by now that this isn't your normal riot."

Jake and Miller proceeded to walk through the medical center, where doctors were removing more dead bodies from the facility.

"There are a lot of bodies outside the gate," Jake continued. “Any of them military?”

"Yeah," Miller answered. "Military, law enforcement, and first responders. We've lost a lot of good people. Most of the remaining are just rookies fresh out of boot."

As the two continued onward into the medical center, they went through what looked like a cell dorm. The rooms were protected by thick glass walls, and the residents were rioters, all bloodied and enraged, tightly strapped to the beds they laid upon.

"Remember when the WHO and the CDC were trying to prevent the spread of Vermors Disease?” Miller asked.

“I do,” Jake answered. “That bacteria recently discovered over in India. Decaying flesh, fever, chills, dementia, coma, then death. A couple guys were talking about it at Christopher Newport. But I thought that was contained.”

"It was, until some of the doctors decided to bring a sample of it to the states for further testing. One of them got in contact with the bacteria, then more after that. Since the bacteria was in a secluded area in Virginia, it didn’t hit the news. Scientists finally created a cure to stop it in its tracks. Animal testing was perfect, but not the human trials. Nobody knew the side effects until it was too late. The cure sped up the symptoms and made it more lethal. Turned it into a mutagen. Those that were tested attacked members of the WHO and the CDC, and it soon escalated from there.”

“They were given a biological weapon and didn’t even know it.”

“That's only the tip of the iceberg. The Secretary of Defense failed to mention to us that the untested cure, as well as samples of the Vermors bacteria were already sent to different labs in the US, as well as different parts of the globe, including India, before the lethal side effects kicked in. You can thank Genesis Pharmaceuticals for that."

"Has the FBI pressed charges on that company?" Jake asked.

"They could, but even the director concluded that it would be of no use. This thing has already spread too far, and it could take years to contain."

Miller led Jake next to a glass wall, where a lone soldier stood in the small room on the other side. The man turned around, revealing what looked like dehydrated flesh covering his face and sagging over his cloudy eyes. He growled abruptly, and rushed towards Jake, but the glass wall prevented him from pushing through. All the man could do was stare at Jake and Miller with hungry eyes.

"Good news: No more Vermors," Miller continued. "Bad news, now we have this new disease to worry about. The CDC calls it ‘Consimili,' or ‘Walking Corpse’ in Latin. But many of us grunts are just calling it the 'Zombie Virus.'"

"Wait... like zombies off of TV shows?" Jake asked.

"As crazy as it sounds," Miller answered. "More or less. These things are twice as strong as they used to be before changing, and they have twice the stamina. You would think that the enhancements would be beneficial. Hell, some country might break the Geneva Convention and use it as, like you said, a biological weapon. The only problem is that it completely alters you to the point where you're no longer human, so to say. To change, you need to be bitten, scratched, or get in contact with its blood or saliva in areas such as the eyes, ears, nose, mouth, cuts, or other orifices. Very similar to Vermors and Rabies. Afterwards you'll become just like Sergeant Mason here within anytime between ten minutes to four and a half hours, which is apparently the longest recorded time the CDC has so far."

"Is there a way to stop it?"

Miller turned to Jake. "Well, right now, we're doing the best we can to push this outbreak back so we can plan accordingly. I have been meaning to ask you since you showed up, though, if you have considered being temporarily reinstated."

Jake sighed. "Sir..."

"I know how you feel about it, and I would normally not ask you. But we're low on men. We need all the help we can get, and what better person to ask than you."

"With all due respect," Riley answered. "I gave up on military life. Right now, I need to be with Cassandra and focus on what I have now. Once this blows over, I'm starting my new job, and me and her are getting a house of our own."

Miller was silent for a moment, then smiled as he changed the subject. "You still wanna know how to take these things out?"

"Yes, I would," Jake answered. “I tried shooting and stabbing. Nothing seemed to work.”

Miller pulled out his sidearm and cocked it back. "Do you also remember when I said, 'Two in the chest, one in the head?'"

"Yes, I do."

"Forget about the 'two in the chest' kill shots. Only in the head. Damage the brain with whatever means necessary. Decapitating won't do either, because the brain can still function."

Miller walked close to the button that would open the doors to the room where the zombie was. "Now the CDC is trying to make a cure for this virus as well. They are fools for attempting to do so. They tried making one for Vermors, but look where that got us. It’s just a sick and demented irony. Imagine a dog with rabies. There is a vaccination to prevent it from forming, yes. As for curing it... no. The best thing you can do to fix him and prevent others from getting hurt..."

Miller pushed the button and opened the door. The zombie started rushing towards him, ready to attack. Miller raised his pistol and shot point blank in the man’s head. The back of his skull flew open as he fell to the ground, inches from his feet.

"...I put the dog out of his misery," Miller finished as he holstered his pistol. "Now I'm all for making some kind of vaccination to prevent a widespread pandemic, but trying to save these things? You can't save what's already dead."

Jake and Miller proceeded walking back to where other survivors and soldiers were.

"You told me over the phone a few days ago that you were going to propose to Cassandra?" Miller asked, changing the subject once again.

"Already did," Jake answered. "She said, 'Yes.'"

Miller patted Jake on the back and smiled. "Congrats."

"Thank you kindly, sir."

"Go and be with her tonight. If you don't mind, though, a couple of the volunteers may need some help."

"I can do that much."

That night, Jake sat up on his pallet as he listened to hundreds of people crying themselves to sleep. Cassandra sat up and quietly started at him for a few minutes.

"What are you thinking?" Cassandra asked.

"Just listening," Jake answered. "These people... they lost someone dear to them. A husband, a wife, a sibling, a parent, maybe both parents. I can only imagine."

"What did you and Miller talk about?"

"About what's happening, and how to stop it."

"And?!"

"He asked me to come back," Jake admitted. "I told him 'no.'"

"But something tells me you're thinking twice," Cassandra suspected.

Jake turned his head away from Cassandra, knowing that she knew his intentions.

"I'm sorry," Jake apologized. "I know you don't want me to..."

"Don't!" Cassandra replied.

As Jake sat silent, Cassandra took a deep breath.

"You're right," Cassandra choked. "I don't. Not after what happened last time you were away. Not after what you went through when you came home. So, yeah; I don't."

Jake lowered his head to the ground as his heart began to sink.

"But at the same time," Cassandra continued. "I know how good of a person you are. I know you want to help end what's going on because you care about people."

As Cassandra wiped the tears from her eyes, she started to giggle.

"What's so funny?" Jake asked.

"Remember when you went to Afghanistan?" Cassandra asked. "You and I video chatted, and you introduced me to that Afghan boy."

"Hadiib," Jake responded as he began reminiscing. "I remember that. He and I were rehearsing Crazy Train and then sang it to you."

"And then after you told me you taught him that song, he blurted out, 'No, I knew that song already. Don't steal my thunder.'"

Upon remembering that lighthearted moment, both Jake and Cassandra chuckled, which turned into brief laughter.

"Just promise me something, Jaycob," Cassandra requested, calming herself down from that brief moment of sheer joy.

"Of course," Jake replied.

Cassandra rested her head against Jake's shoulder.

"Promise me you won't get hurt," Cassandra whispered. "No matter what happens, you stay safe."

"I promise, Cass," Jake nodded as he kissed her goodnight before the two of them slept on their pallet, trying to dim out the mourning.

The next day, David Miller searched around the base looking for Jake. He found him sitting near the soup kitchen with Dylan and Cassandra. Cassandra, who was happy to see Miller, ran up to him and gave him a hug.

"Jake told me about your engagement," Miller started. "Congrats. Jake's a good man."

"Thanks, David," Cassandra replied. "He really is."

"Jake offered to help out with volunteers if he's still up for it."

"I am," Jake answered. "And other things, if you'll still have me."

Miller paused for a moment, realizing that Jake was taking him up on his offer.

"Come with me," Miller grinned.

The two of them met up with the current admiral in charge at the base's meeting room to reinstate Jake.

"Good to see you back, Riley," the Admiral began. "How was civilian life treating you?"

"It was good," Jake answered. "I was getting ready to join NCIS."

"Thank God you showed up when you did. I'm sure Commander Miller informed you that our garrison is really low at the moment. As soon as we're stable enough, Congress is going to be implementing the draft again."

"Well, it's a good thing I volunteered... Wait, are you doing selective service or what's the plan?"

"Most likely every able bodied man we currently have," Miller said. "We can't bring any more reinforcements in this mess. It's too risky."

"The plan right now is to set up a booth for voluntary service," the admiral continued. "If we still don't have enough people after that, then the draft will go in effect."

"Alright," Jake nodded. "Then before I do this, I have one thing to ask, if it would be alright."

"Normally I don't give out any requests to those volunteering or being drafted, but considering the circumstances right now, and since you are a highly respected veteran, I'll make an exception."

"My best friend... His name is Dylan Harrison. I want him taken off the draft. With all the hell I had to see in combat, I would feel at ease if he never had to undergo what I went through."

The confused admiral turned to Miller, who shrugged his shoulders at the request.

"What's his occupation?" the admiral asked.

"He's getting ready to continue law school," Jake answered. "Planning to start his own law firm."

"I can't promise that he won't be selected in the draft. However, given his occupation at the moment, there is a possibility that he will be exempted. Should he not be, you have my word that he will not be put the front lines in combat. Under those circumstances, he is most likely going to be placed on the J.A.G. Corps."

As Jake thanked the admiral, the two of them proceeded to continue with the reinstatement.

"I'm going to ask you to raise your right hand," the admiral requested.

Jake raised his hand.

"Do you again solemnly swear to support, uphold, and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, both foreign and domestic?"

"Yes, Admiral."

"Then on behalf of the United States Navy and the state of Virginia, I hereby reinstate you as Petty Officer First Class Jaycob Riley, Master-at-Arms."

"Yes, Admiral."

Miller shook Jake's hand, and then the two of them headed back to the center of the base. "Suit up," he said. "There are few sailors at the north gate that could use some assistance. I'll take the main gate."

"Yes, Commander," Jake answered. "One question though: why two ranks up? I was third class when I left."

"Promotion by default. We're low on men, and we can't bring any reinforcements in. We had no second class petty officers, and the only first class officer we had at the time was promoted by default. You're the most qualified right now. Same reason I'm a commander. I was a lieutenant commander before this outbreak."

The two of them made it to Miller's living quarters.

"I kept some of your stuff," Miller said "They're in my quarters. You can get the rest of your gear at the armory."

With that, Miller headed for the main gate. Jake stepped inside and saw a naval uniform. On the jacket, a patch on the left chest had "Riley" etched in it, and a patch on the right chest had "U.S. Navy" etched in it. The center patch and shoulder patch had a ranking symbol indicating the rank of Petty Officer First Class.

"Welp," Jake thought. "Let's do this."

He suited up in his navy blue uniform, then strapped on his black leather boots. He then slipped on his cap, which had a ranking symbol patched in the center of it.

As he left Miller's living quarters, he turned to his right and saw Cassandra and Dylan walking up to him.

"I always thought you would never go back to that lifestyle," Dylan said.

"I thought so, too," Jake replied. "Congress is planning on bringing back the draft once there is some form of stability. I was most likely gonna be drafted anyways."

"What about after this blows over?"

"After this, I'm done for good. No more combat."

navy
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About the Creator

Kameron Williams

Writer, farmer, musician, and a firefighter. That's the gist. I write fiction novels, so my stories will be one chapter of each book I write. Also very opinionated, so I may write blogs on here or random things. Oooh, tacos.

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