Jason Campagna: White Ash on Bone: A Zombie Novel

The crisis is drawing mixed reaction from around the world. Some countries like Great Britain and Japan have offered aid and prayer. In other places such as the Middle East, there are several unconfirmed reports that Americans and anyone they have come into contact with have been quarantined and executed. Similar stories are now also coming out of Africa and Asia.

One thing is for sure, every country around the world is attempting to cut itself off from the continent of America when it comes to air travel and shipping. The growing disaster has caused markets to crash around the world today and most markets have decided to close trading for the immediate future. We are now getting a news alert out of California; I will transfer over to Casey Douglass in San Diego.”

The broadcaster’s voice changed over to a woman’s voice.

“Thanks Mike,” the woman said. “The sun has been set for only a couple of hours here in San Diego and there are now unconfirmed reports of zombie activity among the homeless population of the city. Earlier tonight, several victims were attacked in the gas light district of the city. Police have detained the victims, who are believed to be homeless. Authorities hope to monitor their status over the next several hours. Witnesses report that there are other victims who fled the area. Police are now desperate to locate the attacker and other potential victims. Shore Police from the naval station have been brought in to assist local law enforcement in the search. When asked if they believe these attacks are zombie related, officials’ state that they are not taking any chances when dealing with public safety.”

“Thanks Casey,” male broadcaster said. “In Chicago, the situation has also continued to deteriorate. Early in the day, an accident broke a key water main while the city struggled to deal with the undead. The lack of water pressure wrecked the efforts of firefighters struggling to put out several fires associated with the outbreak. As the day progressed, civil organization collapsed into complete chaos in the downtown area. The Chicago skyline is now ablaze as multiple fires rage unchecked. The inferno can reportedly be seen as many as forty miles away in the night sky. The news around the nation seems bleak this evening; the government is obviously at a loss with how to deal with the magnitude of the disaster that is unfolding. Many governments are outright collapsing in the face of the crisis leaving everyday Americans facing this apocalypse alone in the dark.”

Rex watched Alison while he squeezed his wife in his arms. The side of Alison’s face showed a dark purple in the low light of the hanger. Alison had turned on her back after the broadcaster’s alone comment. Ginger reached out and took Alison by her hand.

“Hey,” Ginger said, “You’re not going to face this alone, Alison.” She spoke her next statement so the others in the truck could hear, “We’re all in this together. We have to look out for each other.”

Hours later, Rex lay awake looking at the shadowy ceiling of the hanger. As far as Rex could tell everyone else was asleep despite the occasional distant pop of gunfire.

“Rex,” Alison whispered, “Are you awake?” Rex turned his head to the left to face the woman. “Is Rex, really your name?”

Rex grinned at the girl, “It’s a nickname.” He turned his head back to the ceiling and closed his eyes.

“So are you going to tell me the story behind it?” she asked.

“I think I’ll pass,” said Rex.

“If you don’t tell me” Alison said, “I can always ask Ginger in the morning.”

“You could ask Ginger,” Rex said, “but she doesn’t know.”

“You’re a terrible liar,” Ginger said with her eyes still closed. “Now tell her, or I’ll wake everyone up for the story.”

“Go back to sleep, Ginger,” Rex said, “I don’t need ganged up on.”

“Get used to it, baby, the last time I looked you’ve added a lot of estrogen into your life,” Ginger said.

“You’d better listen to your wife,” added Alison. “In your husband’s defense, you did bring me home.”

“Oh sure I did,” Ginger replied, “But he brought in the two after that.” Ginger smiled and closed her eyes again. She snuggled back against Rex.

“So back in the 80s,” Rex said, “my father was into the whole monster truck thing. He owned a truck called Tyrannosaur that traveled around the monster truck circuit.”

“Really,” Alison said, “I used to have a picture of Bigfoot hanging on the wall of my bedroom as a little girl.”

“Flirt,” Ginger said while keeping her eyes shut.

“Anyway,” Rex continued, “I was really little myself and used to like to roar like a dinosaur while sitting in the truck before shows. There was this picture of me hanging out the driver’s side window with my fingers all curled out like claws, roaring my head off. The caption read, “ Tyrannosaur’s little Rex roars at the crowd.” The picture was ridiculous, and I’m glad You Tube wasn’t around back then. After that, everyone called me Rex.”

Alison smiled at him, “Can I hear it?” she giggled.

“Hear what?” Rex said.

“I want to hear you roar like a dinosaur,” Alison said.

“Estrogen,” Rex sighed.

Chapter Twelve

The helicopter skid bumped against the ground, and Rex felt the cool morning air rush inside the vehicle when Captain Anderson threw the door open. Anderson and Winters were the first out of the helicopter followed by three other guardsmen. Rex and Sulla followed the group onto the concrete of the runway.

Anderson waved them over away from the helicopter, and the machine cranked up its engine and took off behind them.

The group didn’t need to search for the zombies to clear them away from the runway; the noise from the helicopter drew them to the spot like magnets. At least 50 zombies closed in on the group from multiple vectors.

“Listen up,” ordered Anderson. “We are going to move into the grass between the runway and taxiway and let them come to us. We’re going to put them down at close range so we don’t have to worry about dragging them off the runway.”

The group followed Anderson into the island of grass in the sea of concrete. The blades of grass were wet with the condensation left over from the early morning-dew. The ground sloped gently downward to a storm drain positioned in the center of the island. Anderson stopped on the grate of the catch basin.

“We hold this ground,” Anderson ordered. “From a semi-circle five feet apart from the guy next to you and don’t shoot till they’re less than 15 feet away.”

“If you haven’t already, lock and load with safeties off,” added Winters. “Watch your fields of fire, and that goes double for you two civilians.”

The first zombie headed at them from the direction of the terminal sitting several hundred yards in the distance. It was a woman dressed in a blue uniform with a red stained white undershirt.

“Stewardess,” one of the guardsmen shouted. She crossed over the grass and closed in on the group headed for Winters.

“They call them flight attendants now,” Winters said. “It’s disrespectful to call her a stew.”

Winter’s gun cracked out at the zombie. Rex watched a large section of the back of her skull detach with hair connected to it as the bullet exited her head. The body dropped to the grass and became inert.

“So I doubt we can expect to see a beverage cart anytime soon then,” said one of the other soldiers.

“Can the chatter,” said Anderson. “Let’s focus on the job at hand.”