Jason Campagna: White Ash on Bone: A Zombie Novel

Captain Anderson's radio chimed in its own report. "This is Tango Foxtrot Delta to Whisky Six One; we are a go on fly by. ETA in 10 minutes."

"Copy that, Tango Foxtrot,” Anderson said. “Whisky Six out."

"The EOC's last broadcast was to waste these things in the head, if you want them to stay down," Sergeant Winters said.

Anderson looked out the second story window at the growing crowd of undead gathering on the VA lawn. Anderson grinned at one of his soldiers and nodded at the window. "Bust one of those windows out. Let’s do some experimenting in the name of science and the guard," Anderson ordered.

The soldier picked up a chair, and smashed it against the window. The glass cracked but didn’t break. The second swing brought a satisfying shower of glass falling away from the chair.

Captain Anderson brought his M-16 up and sighted in on a man with a bat-man shirt ambling across the lawn. Anderson lined up the green dot of his scope right over the man's heart and squeezed the trigger. In an instant, the round exploded from the weapon and cut through the air to impact dead center in the target’s heart.

The man took a step back and then kept coming. It looked up into the window, attracted to the noise.

"I guess," Sergeant Winters said," that science says that fucker’s either wearing body armor under that shirt, or he's some kind of fucking monster, Sir."

Anderson realigned his aim to the ghoul's head and fired a second round. A red mist puffed from its head, and he toppled over backwards. He didn’t get up or move.

"That may be Sergeant Winters, but the Guard says stay the fuck dead," Captain Anderson said.

The guardsmen cheered in approval.

"Listen up," Anderson shouted. His men and the VA survivors quieted down. "We know how to kill these things, but we don’t have the ammo to take them on from here. The longer we stay here, the more of those things we’re going to have to take on to get out. We are moving out in 5 minutes to get back to depot and rearm. Lace your shit together, and make sure we don’t lose any survivors on our way out."

###

Three minutes from Butler City, Air Force Tango Foxtrot Delta could see smoke on the horizon. This particular C-130, boasted the title of being a gunship. The craft had Gatling guns mounted on each side of the fuselage.

Up until sighting the smoke, the crew thought that the whole thing might have been a joke being played on them. The Co-pilot adjusted the plane’s radio to try and catch some civilian emergency broadcasts. They caught a couple of minutes worth of chatter from Penn Township. It sounded like the Township was as trying to organize emergency efforts near the Butler County Airport.

The pilot brought the gunship in lower to get a better visual on their pass of downtown Butler. The C-130 broke the horizon over the valley top and got its view of the Butler County Court House. The building was in full blaze. Dozens of other fires burned around the town.

"Fuck me," the co-pilot said.

To their left a massive fireball reached into the sky. From their vantage point the explosion ripped out with a shockwave that tore into the surrounding buildings leveling them to dust. The plane bounced on the shockwave of the blast, but the pilot maintained control.

"This is gun crew one. We got visuals of movement on the ground. We might have equipment failure back here; we see movement from multiple civilians but negative on thermals." The crewmen then added, "Hold on sec, thermals are working fine. I see all the fires, and some civs are normal who are waving from rooftops. What the heck? The people on the ground that are trying to get at the rooftops show no heat; what is going on down there...?"

###

Phil Malone worked for the Butler County Sheriff's department as a deputy. He was on duty the night when the unknown prisoner needed locked down. The prisoner didn’t to respond to orders and kept trying to attack the deputies. They threw him in the drunk-tank where he instantly beset his fellow inmates.

Malone, and two other deputies, rushed in to break up the fight. Malone knocked him to the ground and tried to get a chokehold on the guy. The guy's teeth pierced the skin of Malone's arm and sunk in to the bone. The prisoner then pulled away and tore out a huge chunk of meaty flesh. Blood gushed from a severed artery. In pain, Malone let go of the guy, but the prisoner kept at him. The crazed guy took another bite out of Malone's arm. The other deputies tried to restrain the prisoner, but he was on top of Malone chewing the shit out of him.

A newly-arrived guard managed to pull Malone out of the holding cell while other deputies subdued the prisoner.

"Shit, we need to get Malone to the hospital," the guard said.

Malone felt dizzy from the loss of blood and passed out.

He spent the rest of the night in the ER at Butler Hospital. The doctor did his best to stabilize the bleeding. He gave Malone a transfusion for the loss of blood, and cleaned the wounds. The staff informed him that he had lost a good deal of muscle tissue around the wounds. He would need skin grafts at the minimum.

Malone felt tired, but his wife sat at his bedside. Their relationship had been on the rocks for months. The two of them had been discussing divorce the day before the incident. Her presence made him feel loved. “Perhaps we can patch things up,” Malone’s wife told him while holding his hand in the hospital bed.

In the morning, Butler Hospital transferred Malone by ambulance to another facility. They moved him to Oakland Hospital in Pittsburgh. There, he could receive better treatment in preparation for future surgeries to his wounds.

Around lunchtime, Malone fell into a comma. Five hours later he flat lined.

Chapter Five

Rex sat at the stone topped Casino bar drinking a Coke. He wondered where the future was taking him and his wife Ginger. His watch showed 15 minutes until his appointment with the Casino manager. Rex’s eyes drifted down the length of the bar. He lost conscience thought as he stared into oblivion.

"Excuse me, what are you staring at?" a young woman rebuked him from two seats down.

Rex realized his gaze bore into the girl. She had long blonde hair, brown eyes, and full lips covered in black lipstick. Her lips were a little pouty. She was decked out in a tight skirt, hose, and a spaghetti-strap top, everything in jet black. On the blonde’s right bicep there appeared to be some kind of zombie tattoo; she had the Goth thing going on.

"I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to stare at you,” Rex said. “I was kind of dazing off.”

"That’s okay," she said, giving him a slight smile and the possibility of a flirtatious encounter.

"I have to ask though,” Rex said. “Is that a zombie on your arm?"

"Yes it is," she replied with her smile growing a hint more.

"So what made you decide to go with a zombie tattoo?" Rex said.

"First off, it’s not real; yet. It’s just airbrushed," she said. "Second, I hope it’ll remind me never to let my guard down when it involves dealing with the living dead," she said with a giggle.

Rex smiled at her, and took her in again. The dark Goth-clothing was a contrast to the blond hair and sweet attitude.

"Art or theater major?" Rex asked.

"Neither, I’m a med-student," she said.

"They let you dress like that for medical school?" Rex asked.

"No,” she said. “But I’m on break, and I enjoy going out on a limb. It makes me feel like a teenager. Now I have a question for you. Do you always look so serious?"

"Only now,” Rex said. “When I was younger I had more the look of a trouble maker. I guess it’s the reason the first time I took my wife out, my future father-in-law didn’t like the look on my face. Before he let us leave on our date, he took me up stairs, where he kept his loaded shotgun. He wore the serious look back then.”