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Jason Campagna: White Ash on Bone: A Zombie Novel

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Jason Campagna White Ash on Bone: A Zombie Novel

White Ash on Bone: A Zombie Novel: краткое содержание, описание и аннотация

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The story is set in my home town of Butler, Pennsylvania. Classically, the region is the heart of zombie lore. I grew up watching zombie movies that were filmed just down the road. It certainly can impact a young mind. The novel starts out on what should be an average day. A demented prisoner in the drunk-tank, who happens to be subject zero, is brought before a judge to have his case reviewed. He breaks away, and violence soon spills outside of the courtroom. White Ash on Bone follows groups of citizens who band together for survival as society breaks apart around them. This is not a story about living in a post-apocalyptic world that is already overrun by the undead. This is a story about trying to survive in the first days of the collapse. I really tried to capture both small and large scale events in the novel. For example, one group of survivors might be trying to hide out in a garage while another group is watching the military try and maintain a collapsing stronghold in Pittsburgh. I did not feel the need to make my zombies extra-ordinary. They move, some a little faster than others, but you won’t see them climbing up walls. What you get in the story is an ever growing horde beating in your front door. This is the first book of the series.

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"You're going back out there?" Donna said.

"Yeah, I have to," he said.  "My house is just a few blocks away, and my cat is there.  Don’t worry though, she doesn't bite."

The statement made Donna think back to Jack's earlier question. "Why did you ask if I’d been bitten?" Donna said.

"Well, when you were out of it, more of those crazies showed up.  I’ve been watching them through the peephole in the door.  They don’t seem to attack each other from what I can tell.  But like the bartender over there, after people are chewed on, they seem to get up after awhile and join the crazies.”

"I saw the same thing at the courthouse," Donna replied.  "I don’t get it; no one should be able to get up after that."

"Donna, there is a lot I don’t get about today. I’m not going to hang out here defenseless and try and figure it out. I could be doing that at home with my guns.  So what is it going be, you coming with, or staying?"

She thought about it a minute.  “I don’t want to be alone, but I don’t see how we’re going to make it out of here with all those things out there.  The cops couldn’t stop them.”

Jack gestured her to the peephole.  "Before you woke up, a big Mac truck came though and pushed some of those cars out of the way. It seems to have freed my car on the sidewalk.  It’s all a matter of getting to my car while hauling ass as fast as possible."

Donna leaned up to the peephole. She could see the car fifteen feet from the door.  The thought of going back outside made her stomach churn and her hands shake.  She caught a look at herself in the bar’s mirror; she was a sad sight.  She had a swollen bloody lip and a black eye.  Usually, her long dark hair was shiny and beautiful; now, it was caked with blood and bits of glass.  Her once-fashionable black business suit was torn and tattered.  She looked down and noticed that she had no shoes or memory of when she lost them.  Pain, yes then there was the pain from the bruises, scrapes, and general abuse that her body had undergone.

"It’s clearing up out there,” Jack said. “We should go."

Donna felt fear surge in her, she felt like she was going to vomit where she stood.  Jack grabbed her by the hand and pulled her out the door.

Each step sent a jolt of pain through her legs and feet as they approached Jack’s car.  Under normal conditions, Donna's injuries would have slowed her down, but fear and adrenaline drove her on.

As they reached the car, the bartender came around the corner.  The side of his entire face was chewed off as well as a large section of his right arm.  Bone showed through in many places, and a low moan emanated from him as he lurched forward toward his prey.

Jack kicked the bartender square in the chest and sent him sprawling backwards.

Donna managed to open the door just in time for Jack to shove her unceremoniously inside.  Not wasting time to go for the other side, Jack jumped in behind her and climbed over to the driver seat.

His key stabbed at the ignition a couple of times before plunging into the hole. Jack fired the ignition.  Donna saw the bartender get up as Jack dropped the vehicle into drive.

The bartender managed to get his face right next to Donna's window before Jack pealed tire and launched the vehicle away from the creature.

After six blocks and a few turns, they arrived at Jack’s house.  He owned a three story brick home on a corner lot; it had a fenced-in back yard along a side alley.

Faced with the turmoil of events, the area was quiet and free of activity.  Jack led her inside and locked the door behind them.  "Here’s the plan,” he said.  “Those things might try and smash through a window.  My house has a few weak spots on the ground floor, but I don’t think they have the coordination to climb up to the second story. I have some wood in the basement, and we can utilize some closet doors from upstairs to cover the windows."

Jack reached into a kitchen cabinet and produced a pistol, "Just in case we have guests."

After he loaded the weapon and secured it to his hip, he redirected his attention to Donna.  "Listen, I need you to try the phones, TV, anything; but don’t make too much noise, or open the blinds."  He raced down the steps to the basement leaving Donna alone.

She tried the phone first.  The line was dead.  The TV was working, and there was news on a Pittsburgh station; but it only said that some kind of incident was going on in Butler, and news crews were en route.

Jack emerged from the basement carrying boards, "Did you find out anything?"

"No," she said, "just that they have news choppers on the way."

"Check the internet," he said. "I have a computer up on the third floor."

It took less than twenty minutes for Jack to produce five doors from closets and bedrooms on the upper floors.  He quietly placed each in position near a window or door.  It took another half hour for him to bolt the doors over the three windows from the inside and reinforce the doors.

By that time, the television was broadcasting images from a news chopper over Butler.  It showed pictures of complete carnage in the streets.  Mostly the footage showed groups of people surrounding cars or trucks stuck in gridlock. People were slowly pounding their way into the vehicles.  They watched people being pulled out of cars or trucks and torn to pieces.

“This is news chopper 10 reporting over the City of Butler, North of Pittsburgh.  Earlier, there were reports of some type of civil unrest in the downtown area of Butler.  From what we can see, there appears to be some kind of rioting taking place in the streets.  It looks as if traffic has come to a standstill in many areas.  In fact, there appears to be multiple car wrecks throughout the city.  For those of you watching this footage, I have no explanation for what might be causing such turmoil in the- my god did you see that?  They tore his arm off!”

Chapter Two

John Marks sat stunned as he watched the scenes play out on the television.  It was the first hard information he had on what was going on.  It was also the only communication he had from downtown Butler.  As the Emergency Management Coordinator for Butler County, John was supposed to coordinate the emergency services of the County.

Butler was fortunate to have one of the best Emergency Operations Centers (EOC) in the State. So good in fact, during 9/11, Butler County helped coordinated emergency services for responding to the crashed plane in Shanksville, Pennsylvania.

The EOC was situated on top of a hill about three miles southeast of downtown Butler.  Today, it was a blessing and a curse. It was a blessing for the fact that the EOC was not in the riot and a curse that there was no line of sight to observe what was going on.  With no further communication coming from the scene, there was little to go on.

John had sent a couple of police officers down the hill to try and establish communication, but the streets were jammed with vehicles.  They last reported that people coming out of downtown were hysterical, claiming people were being eaten.

That was the last he had heard from them.  In fact, nothing was coming out of the County Seat of Butler.  No communication from the County Commissioners’ office, or the City Mayor’s office; it was as if there was no one left.  The phones were pretty much jammed, but Internet and radio were still operational.  John could hear small arms fire sounding from all over Butler valley whenever he stuck his head out the door of the building.

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