The Last Zombie War Read online

  The Last Zombie War

  Brian Michaels

  Copyright April 2019

  The Last Zombie War

  The Human Race has endured many wars throughout its history. From the time of early Greece to modern times, millions have died, countless millions more have suffered unmentionable atrocities during these wars.

  World War I was called the war to end all wars, but it was soon followed by World War II.

  Since the end of World War II, countries have been continually at war in one way or another.

  Korea, Vietnam, Syria, Iraq, multiple other Middle East wars, Africa, South America, Ukraine, and many more.

  Millions continued to die.

  It was if no one seemed to notice or care any longer.

  That was until a war started that no one could any longer ignore.

  With in weeks, billions had died, far more than had died in all of mankind’s previous wars combined.

  The war spread so fast and so far, that it became impossible for anyone to ignore it.

  No one was spared, it was impossible to declare yourself neutral and just sit on the sidelines.

  The enemy didn’t care. If you fought you died, if you didn’t fight you died, no matter what you thought about the war only one thing was certain.

  You were going to die.

  Within weeks mankind realized that it was facing extinction.

  Mankind found itself facing an enemy that appeared impossible to defeat. In a war, the winner was the side that found a way to kill more of the enemy than they could kill of you. The problem was at the start of this war, your enemy was already dead. How could you kill someone that was already dead?

  It was a dilemma that had never been faced in the entire history of mankind.

  They also discovered that even with all the modern weaponry that had been developed, their weapons were next to useless against the enemy they now faced.

  Mankind did find a way to claim victory, or to at least be able to call the final result a draw, but there was one big question that remained. Was it too late?

  Joe Brady and his family lived in the tourist town of Moab, Utah. Joe and his wife were concerned about earning a living and raising their three small children in the beautiful surroundings of Arches and Canyonlands National Parks. Dealing with war, death and destruction had never crossed their mind.

  However, that all changed drastically one day when the horror of death made it impossible to think of anything else. Life became a daily battle to just keep his family alive as he watched everything and everyone around him die.

  After having endured countless horrors in order to just survive, he found that he also had to endure one more burden.

  The burden of knowing why he was still alive.

  Part One

  Moab, Utah

  Chapter 1

  Robert Anderson laid on the ragged old couch that sat in the middle of the small room that I called home.

  The curtains blew open briefly as the cool fall winds were starting to get serious at this time of the year.

  The panes of glass in my windows, where I still had any glass, were all cracked and didn’t provide much of a barrier to the cold air. I knew I would need to move soon or cover the windows before too much longer if I hoped to have any protection from the elements.

  During the summer months, the breeze was a welcome relief from the hot humid air, but the seasons were starting to change.

  Robert slowly opened his eyes and looked up at me.

  “Thank You,” he said. His voice barely above a whisper.

  He closed his eyes and you could see his body tense as if a wave of pain was shooting through his entire body.

  He took a deep breath then his body seemed to go limp. The pained look that had been on his face moments ago, now gone, was replaced by a calm peaceful expression as if he was now at peace with the world.

  I heard the air slowly escape through his nose, as his lungs expelled the remains of his final breath.

  A short gurgling sound came from somewhere deep inside his body, then he was quiet and still.

  I could see the color begin to drain from his face.

  Over the last few years I had seen many men die, most had not died in such a peaceful manner.

  Most of the deaths I had witnessed were accompanied by horrific pain, the terrifying trauma of having their flesh torn from their bodies as they were being mauled by the dead.

  Those that managed to survive the initial attack by the dead, soon discovered that they had not escaped the nightmare.

  The nightmare was yet to come.

  They soon found that their body had just been granted a short break before the nightmare continued.

  This time the nightmare reared its ugly head in a different way, as the body began to burn from the inside.

  All you could do was watch helplessly as dark ugly veins began to spread over your skin.

  But I often wondered if you really noticed the dark veins as they spread over your body because from what I had seen, the man dying seemed to be in too much agony, as his body burned and destroyed itself from the inside, to notice much of anything else that was happening to him.

  When death finally took the body, the expression of pain and agony remained. It was the familiar look on all the faces of the dead that we had seen as they pursued the living.

  Was the look on their faces because the dead were still in so much pain? Or was it the horror they felt because deep down inside a small part of their humanity remained that was horrified at, but helpless to stop what their bodies were doing?

  I hope that I never find out the answer to that question. Unfortunately, I know too many people that do know the answer to that question but were unable to tell me what they know or knew.

  Watching Robert Anderson die, brought back so many memories of what we had lived through the last few years.

  Most of the memories were not good memories, they were nightmares, the worst possibly kind of memories.

  I guess really, there were no good memories from the last few years.

  There wasn’t anything good about the last few years except for the fact that my wife Donna and I were still alive. But even the fact that we were still alive was something that we had often debated whether it was a good thing or not.

  There was nothing left to live for except for each other.

  The life we had known was gone forever, as was the country we had lived in.

  The future held nothing but pain and suffering.

  There was no longer any electricity, automobiles, TV, computers, stores or towns.

  Sure, things like cars, TVs, computers, buildings, books, roads and such still existed everywhere, but now they were just dead relics of the past, of what would never be again, at least in our life time.

  The so-called Last Zombie War as I called it, put an end to everything we had ever known.

  Maybe a better description of what had happened would be the Last Zombie Massacre, because until the end it really wasn’t much of a war it had been so one sided.

  It was a miracle that any of humanity had survived.

  Robert Anderson’s short visit lead us to discover how mankind had ventured so close to extinction and how humanity managed to hold on to a slim chance to survive.

  To tell you the truth, I don’t know who deserves to burn in Hell the most, the people that destroyed us, or the people that saved us.

  Saved us, that almost sounds like a joke when you look around to see who and what was saved.

  The people that are still alive are starving and society is nothing more than a few gangs of thugs and outlaws.

  “He’s gone,” I said as I looked up at Donna.

  “The son of a bitch got off easy,” Donna growled as tears welled up in her eyes. He didn’t suffer near enough, I hope he burns in Hell.”

  I just nodded as I looked down at the motionless body and the content expression on his face.

  “Joe, what are you going to do with him?” Donna asked. “As far as I’m concerned you can toss his body over the hillside out back.”

  “I know that’s what he deserves, but I just can’t bring myself to do something like that,” I replied. “I don’t want to be like that, besides what good would it do now.”

  “I’ll do it if you can’t,” Donna growled.

  “I know you don’t mean that,” I replied. “We need to take care of him in the usual way just in case he is carrying the infection. It would be just our luck that after we tossed him over the hill that he would come back in the middle of the night and kill all of us.”

  “I didn’t think of that,” Donna said. “How about if we cut him up into little pieces first.”

  “Donna, that won’t bring anyone back,” I replied. “It won’t even ease the pain and you will just hate yourself for doing something like that later. We aren’t like him.”

  Donna walked over and wrapped her arms around me, I could feel her tears running down my neck.

  “I know you’re right, but I just want someone to pay for what happened,” Donna said. “Taking out my frustrations on a dead body is kind of sick, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah it is,” I chuckled. “But I guess most of the women I’ve known have had a sick streak in them, so I guess you shouldn’t feel too bad, I guess it’s just normal.”

  “What kind of women were you around before you met me?” Donna smiled. “This is the first I’m hearing about you and sick nasty women, but it does explain a lot.”

  “It’s a kno
wn fact that the females of any species are always the most vicious,” I replied. “Then there was my grandmother. Did I ever tell you what she did when her cat had kittens?”

  “I’ve heard that story a hundred times of how your grandmother would put kittens in a bag with a rock and drown them in a bucket of water,” Donna replied. “I hope you’re not comparing me to your grandmother.”

  Donna pulled back away from me and smiled sadly.

  “Don’t answer that,” she said. “Just go do what you have to do. I’ll be OK.”

  “Danny,” I called.

  “Yeah Dad,” Danny replied as he stuck his head into the room.

  “Can I get you to help me carry Mr. Anderson outside?” I asked.

  “Did he die?” Danny asked.

  “Yes,” I nodded.

  Danny looked at Robert Anderson’s body on the couch and seemed to study it for a moment. I was looking to see what emotion Danny would have seeing Anderson’s dead body, but his expression was just a blank emotionless stare.

  I guess we all had become indifferent to the sight of death.

  “Grab his feet,” I instructed.

  After Danny grabbed his feet, I put my hands under his arms, we picked up his body and carried him out front.

  When we got out front, I had Danny help me place the body in my wheelbarrow.

  “Thanks,” I said.

  “That was weird,” Danny finally said.

  I felt relieved to know that Danny hadn’t become completely like me, that the sight of death hadn’t become a sight so common that it no longer meant anything to him.

  I had tried to shield my family from the sight of death as much as I could, but there had been so much death and horror, it had been an impossible task.

  “It is weird,” I added. “But I’ll take it from here.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you?” Danny asked. Danny knew where I was going and what I intended to do.

  “No, you stay here with your mother and keep your eyes open,” I replied. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  Danny nodded and walked back inside.

  I grabbed the handles of the wheelbarrow and lifted.

  I was surprised to feel how light the wheelbarrow felt, but I guess that was because I was used to hauling heavy loads of firewood every few days so we could build a fire to keep us warm at night. The body of the frail old man really didn’t make much of a difference, the wheelbarrow still felt empty.

  I started moving and pushed the wheelbarrow back across the parking lot until I reached Bittle Lane.

  I followed Bittle Lane until I came to the banks of Pack Creek a few blocks behind the Quality Inn where my family and I now lived in Moab, Utah.

  I wheeled Robert Anderson’s body over to a small pile of wood that I had prepared should I ever need it for something like this.

  I knew I would need it, but I had prayed that it wouldn’t be needed for me or one of my family.

  Along the creek were the remains of more than a dozen piles of burnt ash. We had learned early on, after we discovered that the dead didn’t always stay dead, that the best way to dispose of a dead body was to burn it.

  I rolled Anderson’s body out of the wheelbarrow and onto the pile of wood. I then used my Bic lighter to get the wood burning.

  I stood back and watched as the body caught fire and the flames began to spread. Soon the entire body had been engulfed in flames. I was sure there was a stench of burning flesh in the air, but that was a smell that had become so common that I no longer seemed to notice anymore.

  The first few times I had watched when I burned a body, it reminded me of the images in the history books of the Vikings placing their fallen heroes on a boat, setting it on fire and sending them off on their journey to the after world as they pushed the boat out into the waves.

  Now all it reminds me of is death, destruction and about everything we’ve lost. It is something that we had to do to survive. I had lost that honorable and emotional feeling that I was helping someone start their journey to the after world a long time ago.

  I turned and started walking back to Donna and Danny.

  The body would probably burn for another twenty minutes, but I didn’t feel like standing here and watching it burn any longer. My standing here no longer meant anything. It wouldn’t give me a feeling of closure, there was no closure, and it certainly wouldn’t mean anything to Robert Anderson.

  I wasn’t concerned about a stray spark setting anything on fire, Moab was nothing but rocks and more rocks.

  I doubted that I could set the town on fire even if I tried.

  Besides, after what we had learned over the last two days, I just wanted this to be over with and to be with my family.

  That was the only thing that meant anything to me at the moment.

  Other than the thought that I wanted to be with my family, I didn’t feel any other emotions.

  It had been what had felt like years since I had felt anything inside.

  That was until yesterday.

  Chapter 2

  I walked back to the Quality Inn.

  The wheel on my wheelbarrow squeaked loudly, but I had become used to it and didn’t seem to notice it any more.

  I had often thought about trying to find some grease and lubricate the noisy thing, but Donna said the noise was comforting because the sound always told her where I was.

  The sound told her that I was still alive.

  Since the sound didn’t bother me, I had never made it a priority to fix it.

  I looked at the large two-story hotel as I walked through the parking lot, it had been a beautiful place at one time.

  I remembered driving by the hotel on my way to work many times and thinking how nice it would be to spend a few days here someday but thinking about it was all I ever did because I knew a place like the Quality Inn and Suites was out of my price range and didn’t fit into my budget.

  I never imagined that one day I would be living here, or especially that I would have the entire hotel to myself.

  I have to admit the place is nothing like it used to be, in fact the place like everywhere else in Moab after the last few years now looks like it belongs in a ghetto.

  But we liked the location and there wasn’t any other place that was in any better condition.

  Even though the place had been trashed, it was better than what we had.

  We took the cleanest furniture and blankets from different rooms and moved them into the room that seemed to be the most livable and called it home.

  We selected the Quality Inn because it was located on a small rise that let us keep an eye on the surrounding area. It was also located in the middle of what was left of Moab’s business district where we could rummage for food and supplies.

  I guess we have been here for almost a year now.

  We had often thought of moving, but we don’t know where we could go that would be any better. We also didn’t have any way of going very far from where we are except for walking. Utah is a very large and desolate state that we have no desire to roam around in aimlessly.

  There are also the two small graves across the road from the hotel that our room overlooks.

  Without a better destination to lure us away, it would break our hearts to abandon those two graves and to leave them and what they represent to us behind.

  They represent a sorrow and tragedy that we would like to forget, but they are also the only link we have to a happier time, to when our life had been everything we had strived for. To a time when the five of us had been happy.

  With what the world had become, it wasn’t easy to leave something like that behind because it was the only good thing that we had left.

  I know it is only a memory, but when you have nothing else left, even a memory is something worth hanging on to.

  My name is Joe Brady.

  You have already met my wife Donna and my son Danny.

  I know I said that my wife had a sick streak in her, but I was just joking, she is the kindest person I have ever known. But after what she has experienced as a mother, it’s a wonder she is still sane.