Before the Dead Walked, page 25
“So why haven’t you acted before now?” he wondered.
“Because Specialist Powers followed you,” she said.
Darby was surprised indeed. His lips quivered for a moment.
Lupita pulled the gun away and took a few steps back, enough to give her a safe distance. In fact, she even returned the weapon to her belt.
Darby looked quizzically at her. “What gives?”
“You’re an honorable man, First Sergeant Maxwell Darby,” she said. “Your actions, while certainly not up to the standards of acceptable military conduct, were moral. We were well aware of the Ambassador’s treasonous actions. I see no reason to carry out a mission that neither benefits us, nor the former United States of America.”
Darby smiled and ran his fingers through his crewcut. His hand came away soaked with sweat. “Well, I never expected mercy. Thank you, Ensign Alvarez.”
She waved him off.
“So how did you figure out it was me?” Darby had to ask.
“Circumstantial evidence,” Lupita answered. “Everybody always spoke so highly of you, especially your own men. They all had something to hide, but were pretty open about their lives, even Specialist Powers. You, on the other hand, the model NCO, shared nothing with his men. I figured guilt played into it.”
Darby nodded, but asked, “So where do we go from here?”
Ensign Alvarez smiled and mimicked, “Like Colonel Hatch says, you guys are gonna hunker down and make a fortress outa this place!”
They both laughed.
The two of them were joined by the others, who were clueless as to what had just transpired.
“Are all of your ducks in a row now?” Colonel Hatch asked, because he did know. In fact, he had always known. He just wanted to find out what kind of person Ensign Alvarez truly was.
“Not quite,” Lupita replied.
Then she threw herself into his arms and they kissed for a long, long, long time.
Chapter 22
Sole Survivors
It had been over a year since the initial zombie outbreak. Sandy McCain, along with his two sons and a handful of other local survivors, constructed a fortress on top of Pine Mountain, east of Warm Springs, Georgia. They ripped up the highway and used sections to erect solid walls. With handmade windmills to provide rudimentary power, there was plenty of spring water available too. Most of the infected victims never knew they were there and had staggered off towards Columbus, Georgia and Fort Benning, or even ventured north towards Atlanta. There had been quite a battle, based on the amount of gunfire, but then it was silent.
“I don’t think our guys won,” Jessie McClain said quietly.
His brother shook his head. “Not with those numbers against them.”
For the next ninety days, Sandy and his sons improved the perimeter on top of Pine Mountain. Every day was focused on strengthening the outer defensive works, which began with simple log barricades. Over time they added barbed wire and gun emplacements. As a matter of habit, they shot goats on sight, straight through the head. They burned the carcasses and buried the ash.
Nobody slept with both eyes closed ever again.
With each sunrise, the primary focus was on scavenging supplies. Armed parties would slip out from their makeshift fortress, scouring the countryside for canned goods, firearms and ammunition, along with livestock. Sneaking back through inhospitable territory, these foragers would return with whatever goods they could find. This was the lifestyle of these survivors for weeks, months and years on end.
Jessie fell in love with one of the survivors, Sarah Mills, a nurse from Tuscaloosa, Alabama. They soon had children and so began the road to recovery. Buddy also found a mate and they also began a family. Eventually, this band of survivors swelled in numbers and took control of the Pine Mountain area. Zombies weren’t the only threat however, as bands of degenerates roamed the hills. Pitched battles were often fought with other humans, but the outcome was always the same. Up against trained military professionals, the scumbags always lost.
The Georgia countryside was never the same, of course. Without man’s influence, the highways eventually were overgrown with weeds poking up through the cracks. Most signs of civilization disappeared under the encroaching march of time. The last vestiges of cement and steel gave way to nature’s subtle power of destruction. Zombies did occasionally find their way up the mountain, only to be greeted with accurate fire, which usually blew their heads off.
Still, the constant bloodshed and despair took its toll on Sandy McClain. He eventually succumbed to the bitterly contested mountainside and suffered from dementia.
His sons never gave up, however, fighting against numerous foes. When they eventually buried their father after 86 years, they felt redeemed in their efforts.
Chapter 23
The Legend of the Stinger
One day, long after the modern world had ceased to exist, a small band of survivors, who had taken refuge up in the Black Hills, listened intently to a new suggestion. Lupita Alvarez reported her findings, by saying, “If we hope to survive this zombie apocalypse, we have to be stung by bees.”
The remaining Rangers all stood in awe of her. They had been through a lot together, but never expected such an unusual solution.
“Ensign Alvarez, what exactly are you suggesting?” Sergeant Ramirez asked.
She smiled at him. “This might not pertain to you, Pedro. You’ve already been stung by a cow bee, which is really a wasp, so I can’t be sure you’re protected.”
He shrugged. “I know, but what about my buddies?”
Lupita paused. “I’m suggesting that all of us subject ourselves to multiple bee stings.”
“Shit!” Specialist Thomas objected. “I hate insects, no matter what kind, but bee stings, that really sucks. I once wasted an entire magazine killing one little scorpion.”
Ensign Alvarez took his hand and intertwined their fingers. “I know, it sounds terrible. It’s the only possible way to assure we survive the goat plague.”
First Sergeant Darby stepped forward. “Look men, once again I can’t order you to do this, but Ensign Alvarez’s data is pretty conclusive. We need to attract the bees and then subject ourselves to being stung multiple times, if necessary, even if we need to provoke them.”
“Sarge, this idea sucks,” CWO Collins said. “How am I supposed to prevent being stung to death?”
“We’ve got a good supply of NASA moon blankets,” Colonel Hatch interjected. “We hunker down and let the bees sting us, but then take cover under the blankets, which should protect us from too many stings.”
“Oh, now doesn’t that sound nice?” Sergeant Stillwell said.
The others laughed.
“So how do we go about this?” CWO Collins inquired.
“Ensign Alvarez has been nurturing the honey bee population for several months now,” Colonel Hatch informed them. “She has erected beehives in every meadow and taken the time to support the wildflowers too. The honeybee population is quite healthy now and we’re harvesting an ample supply of honey too.”
The Rangers all looked at Lupita with admiration. There was no doubt that they worshipped her in a way. While it was true that she was the youngest member of the group, the men all looked to her for maternal guidance.
“I ran an agitation experiment yesterday and the bees responded aggressively,” Alvarez explained. “When we’re ready, I will intensify the parameters. In theory, the bees will attack the threat, which will be us. It’s just a matter of timing and coordination.”
“Oh, is that all?” Sergeant Stillwell quipped.
Again, everyone had a good chuckle.
“Now I want you men to get a good night’s sleep and we’ll do this thing tomorrow afternoon,” Sergeant Darby insisted.
That night, against the sergeant’s suggestion, the Rangers sat around the outdoor fireplace, enjoying the warm flames and talking about the old times. There was plenty of emotion, but they also accepted the fact that nothing was the same. Interestingly, Specialist Powers was never once mentioned, almost as if he never existed.
The next morning, bleary-eyed and yawning, the seven people gathered at the far end of the nearby meadow. All the flowers were in bloom and the bees were busy darting from plant to plant, collecting pollen.
“It’s a gorgeous morning,” Lupita said, stretching.
Robert Hatch gently put his arms around her waist and hugged.
She smiled at him and faced the others. “Is everyone ready?”
As a group, the Rangers nodded.
“Now it’s important to look out for each other,” Sergeant Ramirez said. “Once you’ve been stung, you must take cover under these reflective blankets. Stay there until Top tells you it’s clear. Understood?”
They all nodded.
“So how are you going to get them mad enough to sting us?” Specialist Thomas asked.
Ensign Alvarez smiled, but she also was entirely serious. “I have initiated a series of actions that should instill a sense of urgency in the bees.”
“How do you know so much?” Specialist Thomas asked politely.
“You don’t want to know,” Colonel Hatch forcefully interjected. “Just suffice it to say that the ensign is an expert.
Lupita playfully pushed Hatch back. “Without a queen, bees panic. The bad behavior usually stops as soon as the colony or the beekeeper replaces the queen, but I have piled on the bad news for the hives. A shortage of nectar-producing flowers is called a nectar dearth. The bees can’t find nectar so they often try to steal it from other hives. This begins an aggressive behavior known as robbing. Not only are robbing honey bees aggressive, but the bees being robbed become aggressive defenders of their stores. This often results in a cloud of bees around a hive.”
Lupita pointed towards the meadow.
Everybody followed the direction of her extended finger.
They could clearly see the hovering bees.
“Look carefully,” Alvarez instructed. “I’ve constructed a rudimentary trap, so I can study their venom more closely. However, if robbing is going on, you will see bees fighting with each other at the hive entrance. The ground in front of the hive may be littered with dead honey bees. There seems to be a different species of bee that has invaded their territory.”
It was true. They could clearly see the evidence.
“The fighting bees release an alarm pheromone,” she explained. “It’s an odor that warns other bees of the danger. The alarm pheromone makes other honey bees aggressive, and more fighting means more pheromone is released which means more bees join the fray. The situation will escalate quickly. We must be ready at a moment’s notice.”
The Rangers, brave men all, looked at the swarm with trepidation.
All of a sudden the bees became noticeably angry. They created a swarming black cloud over the flowers, the buzzing noise increasing. Within seconds, the bees became an organized dark mass.
Once the alarm pheromone aroused the bees, the humans were fair game.
The odor of dead bees and the scent of honey being robbed attracted other predators. Before long, wasps and yellow jackets arrived on the scene to collect both meat and honey. This meant more fighting and more alarm pheromone.
“Get ready!” First Sergeant Maxwell Darby shouted.
The persuasive hum became deafening as the swarm drew near.
“Stand your ground!” Colonel Hatch commanded. “You must let them sting you, as often as you can stand. Then wrap your body in these NASA blankets and hit the dirt. They’ll move on eventually.”
“At least you hope they will, sir,” Sergeant Darby said with a grin.
Robert Hatch chuckled. “Yeah, I don’t really look forward to getting stung in the ass. I already had a bullet penetrate my right buttock and I didn’t like it.”
The Rangers all laughed.
“Then keep that big fat white ass down, sir,” Sergeant Stillwell said with a big smile.
Buzz.
They could hear them coming.
“Let’s get ready,” Darby called out.
Lupita had coordinated the timing accurately.
At least 800+ honey bees hit them like a black thundercloud.
Colonel Hatch held Lupita close to him. His lips were close to her right ear. “Let me know as soon as you’ve been stung.”
She nodded, but her body was shaking.
Robert held her tighter.
Then suddenly, he kissed her earlobe and added, “I love you.”
She leaned back against him, pressing hard. “I love you too.”
“Ouch,” he grimaced. “Shit, that hurt.”
“Ow,” Lupita cried out. “I think I was stung several times.”
Hatch wrapped the shiny material around them and they sprawled to the ground, holding her to him. She shivered and pushed against him.
“Please don’t let go of me,” Lupita said.
“Never,” he said. “I will never let go of you!”
The minutes collided and it seemed that this horrendous torture went on forever, but in reality, it didn’t last but for a few minutes.
Chapter 24
Inoculation
None of them dared to move. From this point on, the minutes truly did pass on for hours. Robert Hatch managed to pass his canteen to Lupita, but she only moistened her lips. After unfastening several of his tunic buttons, she burrowed her head against his chest. They could still hear the bees buzzing on top of them. She was so afraid and he could feel her shaking.
“It’s okay, Lupita,” he whispered. “I’m right here.”
She pressed herself even closer, as if she was trying to crawl inside of his skin.
Robert could only think of how much he was in love with her. Closing his eyes, he concentrated everything on her. This was Lupita and he had been in love with her from the first time he laid eyes on her.
From a nearby hillside, two elk looked down on the scene with complete detachment. There were seven separate mounds covered in bees, which would have looked strange under any circumstances. A sudden breeze swept up from the valley and the honey bees took flight, all except the ones that had died stinging at the occupants under the NASA survival blankets.
Sadly, there were a lot of dead bees too.
First Sergeant Darby reported. “All of my men were stung several times, all except Sergeant Ramirez.”
Lupita looked at Pedro carefully and asked, “Did you leave your arm exposed?”
He nodded. “A bunch of bees landed on me, Ensign, but not one of them stung me, even when I slapped at them.”
Colonel Hatch offered a suggestion. “The sergeant may have already developed some kind of immunity. We should take blood samples and see if we can figure out what’s going on.”
The Rangers had built a laboratory for Lupita Alvarez, so she could conduct experiments and collect data with some degree of accuracy and professionalism. It wasn’t the CDC, but it would have to do in a pinch.
There were indeed two distinct species of bees found scattered around after dying. They were approximately the same size, but while one group carried the common colors of yellow and black, the other group was black and red. Many more of the common honey bee had died.
More importantly, the traps had worked and Ensign Alvarez surveyed her collection of bees. Both species were inside, but were no longer attacking each other. In fact, they seemed quite docile.
“I have no idea what it means, but their behavior now is significant,” Lupita stated for everyone’s benefit.
Several days later the answer presented itself, when Lupita discovered there was a queen again, but red and black. The puzzle still remained unsolved, however, because the common bees didn’t scatter, but went about their business as if nothing had happened. Even more startling was the fact that after three weeks had passed, all the bees had changed colors to brilliant orange and black. This metamorphosis was incredible.
Specialist Thomas nicknamed them zombees.
Epilogue
With another sunrise arrived a new era. Humans were no longer the dominant species.
In fact, because there was no effective way to conduct an accurate census, the few surviving workers with the World Health Organization estimated that the planet’s entire human population numbered less than one million people. There were no longer governments, armed forces, or the wealthy elite. The manmade goat killer had spread everywhere, wiping out the majority of seven billion people.
No place was considered safe.
Those lucky enough to be stung by bees somehow survived. For the most part, these pitiful few became nomads, always on the move, shying away from any urban center. Eventually, over time, the disease destroyed the cerebral cortex and the infected victims decomposed where they fell. However, the danger never truly vanished, for the strain merely lay dormant. It found its way into the soil, the water, anywhere it could find a host.
Likewise, the terrible odor still lingered and became the most effective way to identify where the infection lay in waiting. As many more years passed, the cataclysm was the subject of songs, tall tales and legends told around campfires. Mankind slipped into another even darker age, as all scientific knowledge was destroyed or lost. People became more suspicious and barbaric while clinging to strange archaic beliefs. Lawlessness was the norm and scores of helpless people were viciously raped, murdered or became slaves. The world degraded into brutality, the likes of which had never been seen before.
Small hamlets sprang up across America, Europe and around the world. The populations never exceeded more than a few hundred, but the survivors managed to eke out an existence. They lived in constant fear and often didn’t last long, eventually overrun by bands of raiders.
The Pine Mountain, Georgia community grew into a well-protected village that withstood many attacks. The members were a close-knit group and eventually were left alone.
Likewise, there remained another small enclave, encamped in what used to be the Mount Rushmore National Memorial in South Dakota. This last vestige of modern civilization remained vibrant for many years to come. The population eventually numbered 553 people, young and old, led by a former colonel in the US Army. The community flourished and the population came from all walks of life and had one thing in common. They had all been stung by bees after those fateful end-of-days. From then on, a rite of passage for newborn children was to be stung by a honey bee, which the colony raised in mobile hives. Honey was considered a delicacy, savored as much as any good wine.
