MZS- North East Read online

  It feels so good.

  The death and the gore—oh my god, poor Jaden—are heart-wrenching. There are things that I have seen in the last twenty-four hours that will haunt my closed eyes for the rest of my life. Still, I feel at peace.

  From the time that I walked out on Jason with no idea where I was going, my actions have been pure. I’m not just talking honesty, either, I’m talking satisfaction. I believe that if I were forced to relive the same time period, I would be comfortable taking the same actions again.

  While working to achieve a specific well-defined goal, all of my actions were trade-offs. An extra hour on one project was an hour taken from a different project. I could leave for an early dinner if I made myself work on Saturday.

  Today I learned to fire a gun, a big-ass scary gun. There was no trade-off; it was just fire and help us survive or don’t and see what happens. Weighing pluses and minuses of shooting and destroying formerly living beings never entered my mind.

  “Terri, how long have you been sitting in the Humvee?” Tucker asks from way in the back.

  “Long enough that I can’t feel my fucking toes,” she growls back.

  “Pat-O, do we need diesel? I kind of need to take a dump. If there’s a gas station clear, do you think we could stop?” Cupcake asks bashfully.

  “We still have a quarter of a tank, but I suppose it make sense to start looking before it becomes an emergency. I’m not sure if there is going to be power on at any of these places, so we may need to siphon again,” Patrick responds.

  Part of me wants to interject and suggest a plan: wait for a sign indicating a service station, pull over, check it out, proceed with caution. But a bigger part of me wants to just accomplish the task at hand. Stop when we see a gas station, pull up to the pumps, and get fuel.

  “Weren’t you guys in a gas station after you got out of Boston?” I ask no one in particular.

  “Sort of. It was really run-down, basically abandoned. There wasn’t any gas or anything,” Cupcake says.

  “But it worked well, right? You felt safe spending the night?” I follow up.

  “Yeah, it seemed pretty secure. It was kind of in the middle of nowhere so there were no hordes to close us in,” he explains.

  “Do you think we should spend the night if we find a service station with a garage bay that can fit the Humvee?” I ask while looking out the window up into the sky.

  “Can it, princess. There’s some radio chatter,” Terri snipes from the front.

  The whole truck goes silent and I listen intently. At first there is nothing. I’m ready to start calling her out for the bullshit. We have no proof that she really did what she is claiming to have done before the outbreak. She hears things, sees things, and “knows” things that I don’t believe.

  The static-filled voice comes across loudly. “USP Beaumont. Renegade is on lockdown. Repeat, this is USP Beaumont, we have Renegade and he is on lockdown. Perimeter is secure, resources are available.”

  Silence.

  I need to think analytically to understand the message. It was not plain English, which means that there is an obvious component and a subtle component. What are the parts that I can identify?

  Lockdown is a security setting. This renegade thing is being protected.

  Perimeter is the area around something. They have a safe place surrounded with defenses.

  Resources are food water and shelter. They may have bullets and bombs available, too. The message feels like it’s coming from the military.

  “‘Renegade’ is the code name for the president,” Terri says. “I’m searching for Beaumont and USP, but the Internet is getting real spotty.” She sounds nicest when she is searching for something.

  “USP is a United States Penitentiary. Some of my mom’s friends had been guests at that type of establishment,” Tucker says. He has no hint of emotion in his voice.

  “Renegade could also be patient zero or a test subject? Maybe they are making progress on a cure?” Parker says, pointing out that we have very little to go on.

  “Does anyone know where Beaumont is?” Patrick asks harshly.

  Thud.

  A body bounces off the side of the Humvee. While we’re lost in thought, Patrick is still struggling against the zombies.

  “I think their message is done. Maybe we should keep scanning to see if we can hear something else,” Parker doesn’t like listening to the dead air and I agree.

  “Easy, smart guy. I’m going to give them another minute. If they repeat the message, we’ll know something more and if they don’t, we still know something.” Terri takes charge wherever she can.

  They didn’t give details in where they were. That means the message was only intended for people who know what they are talking about. If you don’t know where USP Beaumont is, then you have no need to go there.

  The good news is that this means there are other survivors. It also means that there are enough other survivors that they have plans and codes. They are organized and working together. This is how people survive. I hope they let us join them, if we can find them.

  On the bad news front, we don’t have many ways to figure out where they are. We also don’t know if they would take us in if we can get to them. It looks like I may be at another roll-with-it moment. If we find them, we’ll just ask to join up, and if they say no, we go from there.

  The static of an open communication causes Terri to hold up her hand to request silence. No words flow through the speakers. Our collectively held breath is released when the static stops.

  “Give it another few seconds,” Patrick instructs Terri.

  We all wait.

  “Sorry about that,” comes over the radio. “We have thirty-plus evacuees requesting extraction. Resources are diminished and our window of opportunity is shrinking. Please advise on ETA.”

  A group of more than thirty people is safe and communicating with someone that can help. This is good!

  “Tell them we need extraction too!” I plead with Terri.

  “Bad news Thunder,” a voice replies. “Resources have been reassigned to USP Beaumont. Extraction is not available at this time.”

  Terri speaks into the microphone. “Hello?”

  “Understood big D. We’re going to run-and-gun. Hope to see you in Beaumont.” The tone is even grimmer than the words.

  “Hello, this is Terri, and we are in a Humvee outside of Washington D.C. Are you with the army?” Terri says quickly into the microphone.

  “Terri, this is U.S. Central command operating out of USP Beaumont. Identify your rank and unit,” the voice demands.

  “My name is Terri Anderson, I’m a civilian. We have six survivors and we’re on route sixty-six in western Virginia. Can you please help us?” Terri says, tears running down her face.

  “I’m sorry, ma’am. We don’t have the resources to get that far north. If you can make your way down here, we are accepting all survivors,” the man replies. I feel like I can sense sadness in his voice, though it is likely me projecting.

  “Where are you?!” Terri screams.

  There is no response. Either the communications network has fallen or the U.S. Central command had an urgent need.

  “Shit,” Cupcake mutters.

  Terri is holding on to the microphone, crying. Letting go of our latest glimmer of hope is tough.

  The Humvee slows and I notice it turning. I check out my window for a horde or some other major problem, but don’t see anything. The truck rumbles over a couple of bumps that at this point I have to assume were zombies and I lean over to look out the front window.

  We are pulling into a gas station and I can see the price sign with $3.84 showing on the green numbers for diesel. There are no lights on, but I also don’t see any zombies lurking about.

  Patrick gives clear, logical orders: “Parker and Tucker, can you guys figure out how we fill this pig with fuel? I think if you can find the pump number for diesel we should be able to find the underground tank and siphon fr
om there. Cupcake, McLean, and I are going inside to find a shitter and see if they have food.”

  Terri is left sitting in the rig trying to reach whoever that was we were just talking to. Even Patrick does not expect help from Terri outside of the vehicle.

  The gas station is old, but not abandoned or run-down. I get the impression that the owners liked the quaint vibe of a backcountry garage. The small store has a few rows of shelving stocked with your typical gas station food and a row of coolers containing drinks and pre-made sandwiches.

  Everything is quiet. There are no signs of looting or a struggle. It’s like whoever was here just left and assumed they would be back any minute. I supposed that could actually be the case, but I kind of doubt it.

  “I’ll be inside if you need me,” Cupcake says, and smiles, pointing at a door that says “Restroom.”

  Walking over to feel the cooler doors I notice small hardware and automotive items intact on the shelves. Everything is too small to be used as a weapon against the undead. It’s disturbing that I think about weapons with the same importance as food or water.

  The cooler doors are warm. Power has been out here for some time. The milk and juice in the first cooler are probably bad. Fortunately those didn’t appear to be their main sellers. The rest of the coolers are full of non-perishables: bottled water, soda, and beer.

  “Didn’t you love snowballs?” Patrick says, surprising me, holding a package of pink snowball snacks.

  I must have liked Patrick more than I thought. Jason and I had been together for more than six months before he found out about my snowball vice.

  “Good memory.” I smile at him and take his gift.

  Before I can open it, he pulls me close. His hug is strong and I can smell sweat and fear on his body, but I don’t pull away. This feels good.

  “Can we stay here tonight? For some reason it feels right, you know?” I ask when we separate.

  He looks around the building critically. There is not a lot to see, but I hope he can’t find anything that would cause him to object.

  “It’s not that late. But I suppose we’re not really trying to get anywhere. Are you going to be okay on this hard floor?” he says after a few minutes of thought.

  “Probably better than stuck in the Humvee with that smell,” I say with a smile.

  “Then welcome home, I guess,” Patrick answers, slowly sinking down to the floor.

  I sit next to him and take his hand. The skin-to-skin contact feels good. We’ve been sitting in the Humvee for hours, but I don’t feel like standing or stretching my legs. My head leans to the side and rests on Patrick’s shoulder.

  My mind is blank and I lose track of time.

  Eventually the bell over the door rings, announcing the arrival of Tucker and Parker.

  “All gassed up, boss,” Tucker says. It’s good that he recognizes Patrick as the official leader now.

  “I’m suddenly starving.” Parker walks to the shelves of junk food and scans them hungrily.

  Cupcake walks out of the restroom and surveys the small store.

  “I guess this is home for tonight? Just a warning though, the toilet doesn’t flush,” he says.

  Tucker walks down the clear aisle and stands in front of the cooler. After a brief moment of consideration, he opens a door and pulls out a twelve-pack of beer. He walks around the store handing out lukewarm cans to each of us.

  The door dings again and I can feel Patrick tense up.

  “Beaumont is in Texas,” Terri announces.

  “Well, that should be a fun trip,” Tucker answers, before handing Patrick and I our cans.

  Terri ambles over to our spot on the floor and Tucker hands her a can. I can see that she wants to protest or say something, but for the first time probably ever she holds her tongue.

  Parker and Cupcake join us as well, and Patrick and I get to our feet.

  “One thing we haven’t tried since this whole mess started is to sit tight. There is enough food and water in this building for us to last a few days and I am tired of running. So we sleep here tonight, and tomorrow we can talk about if we want to eventually make our way to Texas,” Patrick says, trying to sound hopeful. For the most, part it works.

  Tucker raises his can optimistically “Viva!”

  “Viva,” we all reply in unison.

  Author Note

  Thank you for reading. The MZS Series was a fun story to write. I’ve always enjoyed stories about unlikely hero’s and the underdog winning. Hopefully you have also enjoyed this story.

  If you have time to write a review it is greatly appreciated. Your input will be read and taken seriously, it is the best way for me to improve my prose and plot. Reviews are important for writers and readers in that they help people to connect with the books and authors they will enjoy.

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  I have been helped and humbled by the support, feedback and encouragement of so many people. To share your thoughts with me directly please send a note to [email protected]. Engaging with readers is a true joy and influences my writing and my stories.

  The Metropolitan Zombie Survivors Series

  MZS: Boston - Book 1 Pat-O awakes to find that zombies have taken over Boston. He needs to get across town to meet his friends and escape before the government destroys the undead and everything else in the city.

  MZS: New York - Book 2 The Boston survivors meet up with McLean in New York where she is trying to cope with the reality of the zombie apocalypse. Trying to rescue three kids from an apartment forces them to deal with an entire building of flesh eaters.

  MZS: Philadelphia - Book 3 Parker is in Philadelphia adjusting to life after his wife’s death. The Boston and New York crew arrive at Liberty Bell square in search of a survivors rally. When they are attacked by the living Parker helps them to safety and they make him one of their own.

  MZS: D. C. - Book 4 The survivors want to be done with cities. The detours and roadblocks around D. C. leave them no choice but to drive into the heart of the capital. Once there a power-hungry Senator shows them a new hell.

  MZS: North East - The Novel Follow Pat-O from Boston to New York, Philadelphia and Washington D. C. all in one book.

  Also by K. D. McAdams

  The Seamus Chronicles

  Annihilation Book 1 – Teen genius Seamus Robinson and his family have survived the fast moving virus that is killing off the human race. If they are going to live much longer they need to get from their home in New Hampshire to California where his mother has the vaccine and a secret. Brains will be as important as brawn if they are to survive a post-apocalyptic road trip through raging wild fires and outlaw controlled highways.

  Evacuation Book 2 – The virus that wiped out most of the human race is adapting to defeat the vaccine and kill the survivors. There is a government response protocol but it will kill them too, it involves a nuclear winter. The NASA scientists believe they can leave Earth and achieve faster than light travel, but Seamus doesn’t want to slog through space. He knows that to survive they need to go somewhere fast. To save them all he needs to invent a warp drive and evacuate the planet.

  Colonization Book 3 – As a scientist Seamus Robinson prefers facts over chance. The harsh truth is that crashing into a planet that can support human life was never part of the plan, it was just good luck. His father has dubbed the new planet Locus, Latin for opportunity, and they are ready to put in the hard work to establish a human colony away from Earth. The opportunity may be short lived as the planet is bombarded with poisonous radiation and home to an unknown alien species. If the human race is going to survive Seamus will have to use his brains and take all the good luck he can get.

  Confrontation Book 4 - Locus is not an ideal planet for human survival but thanks to Seamus’s containment field and its ability to protect them from the deadly radiation the humans are thriving. They have built houses, established a productive garden and are having childr
en. Life is becoming routine for the first time since the apocalypse that wiped out most of the human race. Seamus fears that the human race no longer needs him and wonders about the value of a physics genius in an agrarian society.

  Connect with K. D. McAdams online:

  http://kd-mcadams.com

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  http://kd-mcadams.com/newsletter/

  Twitter:

  @K_McAdams

  Email:

  [email protected]

  About the Author

  K. D. McAdams is an independent author writing dystopian, horror and thriller stories. His first series, The Seamus Chronicles follows a teen genius and his family from the apocalypse into the stars. His horror series, Metropolitan Zombie Survivors watches unlikely survivors struggle to escape major cities overrun with Zombies. K. D.’s works can be found on all major eBook platforms with select titles also available in print.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30