The Final Zombie War

I don’t like to tell my story that began too long ago. The day was windy, and I ducked behind a large replica of a tree. My ear chirped, and I pulled my earlobe, knowing it was the boss. Another abandoned missile base. Don’t they know there is a reason they are abandoned? But I had found this base last year while flying a reconnaissance mission. The humvee quickly took me to the base. Yeah, another dusty base, which was responsible for the toxic river and the hole my humvee fell in.
“What the…? Not stupid zombies again!” My ear chirped again as zombie heads exploded as my shotgun automatically reloaded. I didn’t have time to answer. This wasn’t a pack. This was a real horde! I hadn’t seen one in fifty years. I knew I wasn’t ready for another Zombiepocalypse. I called for reinforcements. I knew even my oldest gun-toting friends weren’t ready for this again. After clearing out the building, the humvee found us, and we headed for the safe house, the climbing tower at Bert Adams. We defended ourselves using ancient shotguns for over a year; but then the waves of zombies abruptly stopped. We knew something was up. Zombies don’t just stop. They’re too stupid. After arguing for a day, the stupid side won, and we went for supplies.
At least the veterans like me, convinced the newbs that it would be a waste of time looking around the camp. The nearest town was Covington which had storage near the railroad tracks. We began loading quickly. Why was it so quiet? Even the chirping in my ear had ended and I hadn’t paid attention to that in ages. So this kind of quiet meant only one thing. The newbs were still stupid and everyone here might die to prove it. In other words, we were screwed. I sent scouts toward Conyers to check on the new base there, but didn’t have much hope. The newer base never responded to ear implants and every scout team before had never returned. The rest continued loading supplies. I led my platoon towards the old city hall, our only chance to figure this out. I remembered you could see for miles from the roof. We climbed the stairwell cautiously. Still quiet but the old iron door squeaked as we pushed it open. One large horde of zombies looked up at one time. This wasn’t your usual zombie legion, this horde made Attila the Hun look like a puppy. They went on for miles, with no end in sight. Our training was habit now and we stood in military stillness. “Damned helmet! Why were they designed to make an unmoving soldier sweat in a war where motion is fatal?” I tried and tried. My uniform was soaked in the hour we simply waited. Who would give in first?
In one motion, the zombies lowered their heads and returned to their usual shuffling. We bolted back to the railroad where the train was ready for war. Sort of. If you squinted just right and tilted your head to the left. Way left.
“So. Who wants ice cream?” They remembered to laugh a mile later. I just couldn’t handle that at the moment. I was the only who knew what ‘ice cream’ really meant. When the scouts reported in, I was surprised. The city had been picked over years ago. Even the zombies gave up defending Conyers. But I’m the only one who had survived that battle. I knew what was hidden in the basement freezers in the Magnet School where ‘Operation Ice Cream’ had its only working model. If it worked. It had never been tested. Why would some crazy guy’s idea from fifty years ago work now? Who was I fooling?
The newb who had suggested that darned Covington trip became lookout. I was stunned. He was actually a soldier. They all were now. Time for ‘Operation Ice Cream’ or to simply give in. Was this our only shot at survival? I led my platoon towards down to the secret laboratory. The others covered us. I began initiating the start up sequence for a machine I only turned on once before. The chromed exterior began to almost glow as it rose over its holding cell. I knew if I hit the final button, mankind might survive. But an entire race of zombies would never have existed. We would be the only to remember. In the past, debate had stopped us before. Now it was my turn to choose. My hand shook too hard.
I hit a button. Everything stopped.
“Now maybe you know why I don’t tell the story. Go away. Let an old man rest. No one knows I did it anyways.”





Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!

bRealTime banner ad on the left side
Site Feedback