Foreword
This web novel is dedicated to Matt, and the DZF community. The following stories, events, and characters, are inspired by and derived from the last several months I've spent with you guys. It's been such a blast and I've made so many connections and friends, that I felt inclined to immortalize the experience the best way I know how. Thanks for good times everyone. Here's to many more to come, and thanks to Matt for bringing us all together.
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Times of peace give me more anxiety than when the herds of zoms or raiders are movin through the area. Peace never lasts, no matter how safe we think we are. there’s always a weakness, and always a psycho looking to find it. I find myself spending the quiet days waiting for the shit to show its ugly mug.
I’d rather just be in the fight than sit around and get complacent, so the shit can sneak up and catch ya with your pants down. But, since I got free time, I guess I'll start this journal. Harlow here, journal. Nice to make your acquaintance.
We’ve got a big group now. A lot of smiling faces, a lot friends, a lot of folks I don’t know. There’s also a lot of faces missing. Some I miss and some, well, good riddance.
Some people play games, hang out at the pubs, trade scavenged loot from around Livonia, stuff they find in the military ruins, and crashed planes. Some even offer delivery services. You believe that? You know how many people I’ve seen have their heads blown away for a vehicle? We’ve come a long way.
It wasn’t always like this. Hell, there were only about 10 in Matt’s group when I saw them for the first time. I was running down the railroad tracks south of Brona, heard a lot of shooting and was looking to see what all the fuss was about. But I’m getting ahead of myself.
I won’t waste your time telling you how the world went to shit, a bunch of rich idiots let a pet project escape and cause the collapse of humanity. It’s the damned apocalypse, it’s a story you’ve heard a hundred times, and by better writers than me. Make no mistake though, they’re zombies. The worst part in those stories is always the beginning, when people waste time trying to rationalize what’s happening, and try to help resolve the problem. They're always the first to go.
The only ones who survived are the ones who got the hell out of dodge. That’s us. After it all hit the fan, word spread all around the world of an island where the big wigs were running off to, a place where the virus hadn’t touched. Apparently, everyone who heard that rumor fought their way to a plane and found this dump. Good ol Livonia. Oh, it was all a load of crap too. The military brought the zoms here unwittingly, and not everyone who showed up had the best of intentions either. I'm not sure who is worse, the zoms or the raiders.
But yea, like I said, the beginning. I guess it started with Matt and Dan…
The small single prop plane skimmed into a landing strip just beyond the coastline of a small remote tropical island. Matt, a wealthy tech developer and his friend and personal pilot Dan, flew in his private plane to reach the island that was supposedly uninhabited and void of zombies. They narrowly escaped the hangar back in the UK where Matt's plane was housed and had a couple more close calls at each airfield, they stopped at to refuel. Matt brought a .45 caliber pistol along with him but was glad he hadn't had to use it.
When the two had first soared over the luscious green forests of the island, their initial reaction was that of elation, but once the display of military vehicles at the airstrip came into view, it quicky changed to dread and doubt. Dan landed the plane with a skid and rolled to halt. The fuel gauge on the Instrument panel showed the needle in red. He killed the engine, and the two sat for a moment taking in the scenery.
"This doesn't look good," said Dan.
There stood a single large bay hangar and mechanical shop at one side of the air strip. A military helicopter sat nearby with a cluster of vehicles spread around it. Cargo trucks and Humvees all painted in camouflage sat abandoned with doors ajar, and bullet holes riddled their door panels. There were no signs of life in the area, and the only noise was the ticking of the cooling plane engine.
"This can't be the place. This isn't the place, is it?" Dan asked.
"I think this is the place." Matt replied.
The two looked at each other, both reluctant to open the hatch and lower the plane's steps. Finally, Matt stood and made for the exit. Dan followed him out of the plane, and they made their way toward the hangar. Matt walked cautiously with his .45 held toward the sky.
"We should just go, Matty. Let's refuel and get out of here. This isn't right." Dan said.
"Shh!" Matt replied and pointed toward the hangar. "Let's see if anyone's here."
"Matt! Are you crazy? Look at this! All hell broke loose here. We need to go."
"And go where? We're here, we have to at least look around."
Dan let out a frustrated sigh and followed, darting glances in all directions. The hangar was the only structure in the immediate area, and the forest to the west hid much from sight. To the east, there were only rolling fields that collided with ocean and sky. The situation at the hangar became grimmer with each step as the pair approached the chopper and vehicles. Bullet casings littered the ground along with other scattered debris. Empty green crates sat in piles surrounded by stacked sandbags and concrete blocks. Foldable tables sat with remnants of paper and files on them. Matt approached the nearest Humvee with its driver door wide open and peeked inside. Dan hung back several paces behind.
Matt ducked back out shaking his head.
"Nothing here. We should have a look inside." He indicated toward the hangar with the large bay doors slightly ajar.
"Matt, buddy listen to me." Dan started.
A radio squawked to life on the ground and the two nearly leapt out of their skin. A frantic voice rattled off something in a foreign language, and gunshots could be heard through the static. There were shouts and more gunshots, and then it was silent again. Matt and Dan froze, petrified, as the sound of metal clanging against the ground rang out from inside the hangar.
"Shit shit shit!" was all Dan could mutter, as a figure emerged from the large doorway wearing military fatigues. It's shambling gait and groaning clearly identified it. The dead thing saw the pair standing near the radio and screamed a squelching ravenous cry. Several more figures appeared from inside the hangar, and all laid eyes on Matt and Dan standing on the runway. The zombies ran with deadly speed toward their prey cutting them off from their escape back to the plane.
"Matt! Watch out!" Dan cried, pointing over Matt's shoulder. He turned just in time to see twos prone zombies roll out of the helicopter and clamber to their feet with ravenous snarls. The zombies were quickly closing in on the pair from both directions.
"Get on top the car!" Matt called out and climbed onto the hood of the vehicle. Dan hurried to follow. The zombies reached for their feet from the ground but made no attempt to climb up themselves. It seemed the low brain function of the zombies saved their lives. There were six zombies in all, encircling the Humvee, growling with their arms outstretched, just waiting for the men to fall into their grip.
The two stood there on the roof kicking at the hands of the zombies when they came too close to their feet. Matt aimed his gun at the nearest zombie and shot it in the head once. it fell lifeless to the ground with a sick thud. Five zombies left. Two more shots, and two more dead zombies fell. He aimed the gun at another zombie and pulled the trigger. The gun clicked empty, and the slide remained open.
"Shit!" Matt yelled at the empty gun in his hand.
"Hey, look at that!" Dan said. He pointed to the smoke grenade clinging to the vest of one zombie.
"How are we supposed to get that?" asked Matt.
"I'll kick him in the face, and you grab it real quick before he recovers," Dan replied.
"Why can't I kick him in the face, and YOU grab it?" Matt asked.
"Uhm, because I'm the pilot!" Dan stammered. "That makes me more vital to the situation."
"I bet your mother is very proud of you." Matt said, unamused. "Fine, just do it."
Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.
With Matt in position, Dan kicked the zombie in the face knocking it off balance. From a kneeled position, Matt quickly plucked the smoke grenade from its chest just before it was able to reach for him.
"I can't believe that worked!" Dan said.
Matt looked at him quizzically.
"Oh? How did you see that going buddy?" Matt asked.
Dan didn't answer but smiled with a shrug.
Matt gave him a disapproving look and smacked the smoke grenade into Dan's hand.
"Here you go, got a plan?" asked Matt.
Dan inspected the smoke grenade in his hand and worked out how to operate it. He pulled the pin from the top, and a lever released, causing it to immediately spew thick green smoke.
"Go fetch!" Dan called as he threw the smoke grenade over the heads of the remaining zombies, and they turned to chase it.
"Go fetch?" Matt said.
Dan Shrugged.
"Let’s go!" Matt yelled in a whisper, and the two slid down the side opposite the zombies and fled, trying to keep the Humvee between themselves and the sight of the zombies who were occupied with the hissing can. In a moment of forethought, Matt reached down and snatched the radio before they ran for the hangar. Once inside, they quickly scanned around for movement, and saw none. Racks and shelves lined the walls of the shop but found nothing of use.
"We need weapons." Dan said.
He found a large adjustable wrench on the ground and picked it up. Testing the heft of the thing, he slapped it against his palm a couple times and nodded in satisfaction. Matt found a leather backpack on the ground and picked it up. He ran over to a work bench and started gathering some items there and placing them into the bag.
"Those aren't weapons." Dan said, confusion showing on his face.
"We got to go, they won't stay busy forever." Matt replied. I saw a road through this tree line over here from the sky, it has to lead somewhere."
Dan glanced out the open door and saw the remaining zombies swinging at the smoke still emitting from the grenade.
"Alright, let’s go." He said finally.
The two snuck out of the door and around the corner of the building until the zombies and the vehicles were out of side. Then they stood and ran full speed for the tree line. Moments later, they emerged from the forest on the opposite side where a road stretch in either direction. The turned left and went further inland.
After several minutes of walking, a gas station came into view. It appeared to be deserted, save for some smashed up cars that had probably ran into each other leaving in a panic. Their occupants were nowhere to be seen. Beyond the gas station, sever buildings lined each side of the road. Matt indicated to Dan to stop and crouch down.
"See any zombies?" Matt whispered.
"Nothing so far." replied Dan.
"Let’s be careful, they could be anywhere." Matt said.
The two stepped cautiously toward the building at the gas station. They weaved between the pumps, staying low and out of sight. Peeking in through the broken window they saw no signs of life and nothing useful. They continued past the small, ruined building and across a street. There, a plaza stretched on with multiple doors to various shops. They peered inside the first open door they came to. There were booths with tables set up in a row along the wall, and a bar across from them. They slipped inside.
On the counter near the bar, Dan found a couple bags of chips and unopened sodas.
"Jackpot!" he said to Matt in a hushed voice. Matt was going around the room, looking for opened doors and closing them, trying to secure their location. Once he felt satisfied with their relative safety, he rushed over to see what Dan had found. The two snacked on the chips and sipped sodas until they were gone.
"What are we going to do now, Matt," Dan asked.
Matt shook his head in thought. "We have to look for other people, figure out if there's anyone else alive here."
"There's got to be more people somewhere." Dan replied.
Matt looked down at the radio clipped to the front of the strap on his backpack he found back at the hangar.
"Maybe we can call for someone. Maybe the military is still out there somewhere." Matt said, sounding hopeful.
He switched the radio on and tapped the button on the side and spoke into it.
"Hello, anyone out there?" he said into the device. Releasing the button, he heard only static. After several long seconds he pressed the button again, "Hello, anyone read me?"
Nearly a minute passed, and Matt was reaching to turn the volume knob to click it to the off position when a crackling sound emitted from the small speaker.
"Hello, someone there?" Matt spoke into the mic.
"Oi, shut the hell up for a second would ya, mate?" a voice replied with a deep Scottish accent. "You're going to get us killed."
Matt and Dan exchanged confused glances and waited for the voice to say something else.
After a few moments of tense silence, the voice came back on the radio.
"Hello, you still there?" came the voice.
"Still here," Matt replied. "We need help. We're in a restaurant somewhere."
"Are you with the military?" said the voice.
"No, I'm not with the military, I'm in IT. I just traveled here and got ambushed by zombies." Matt said.
"IT? You mean like 'Have you tried making sure it’s plugged in' tech support, IT?"
Matt sighed in frustration. "No, I'm a software developer. Look, we need help. Where are you? Are there more of you?"
Silence followed.
"Hello! Are you still there?" Matt asked impatiently.
"Yea, I'm here." replied the Scottish accent. "Before I tell you where we are, tell me how many are with you."
"Just two of us." Matt responded. "Come on man, we need help."
"Alright, come to the police station. We're armed and will be watching you approach."
"I don’t even know where that is." Matt said.
"What restaurant are you at?" the Scottish voice asked.
"Uhm, the sign above the bar says Vinnies." Matt answered.
"Good you're not too far. Go straight down the main road, away from the gas station, and turn right at the general store. The police station will be down the way a bit across from a tall apartment building." The voice said.
"Alright, we're on our way." said Matt, setting the radio on the bar. Dan picked the radio up and called into it, "Over and out!"
"What the hell are you doing? Come on lets go." Matt switched the radio off and stuck his head out the door.
"We're clear, come on let’s move."
The pair slipped out the door quietly and crept along the sidewalk.
They passed several other buildings along the way but didn't risk entering any of them for fear that they'd come face to face with more zombies. As they made their way down the street, a car sat parked along the road in seemingly good condition, with the driver side door open. Matt walked up slowly along the driver's side and stuck his head in. he popped back out with an excited smile.
"Keys!" he mouthed to Dan, and nodded at the passenger side, signaling Dan to get in. the two got in and pulled the doors closed quietly.
"Alright, let’s try this." Matt said gripping the key that stuck out from the ignition. He turned the key and the engine cranked to life. The two had a miniature celebration and high fived. Suddenly, they heard several cries from nearby zombies. The noise of the engine got their attention.
"Cheese it, Matt!" Dan yelled out, abandoning the prospect of remaining silent and undiscovered. Matt stomped the gas and sped away just as several zombies came stumbling out of nearby doorways along the street. More zombies were emerging form buildings ahead of him. The noise of the car was attracting all kinds of attention. The zombies mindlessly stepped out in front of him, and he careened the sedan into them, and corpses bounced off the bumper and front fenders of the vehicle. The collisions were quickly doing damage to the car, and it dawned on him then why all the vehicles he'd seen to this point were beat up and ruined.
Ahead, a sign indicated a general store with a right hand turn across the street from it. This was Matt's turn the Scottish voice on the radio instructed him to take. He took the turn with more speed than necessary and as he did, a string of zombies stepped out from a bus stop into the road and snarled at the vehicle. They caught Matt off guard, and instead of barreling through them, he swerved to miss them and slammed the front end of his car into a telephone pole.
The impact rattled Matt and Dan for a moment, but neither had sustained any real injury. Thick white smoke emitted from under the hood of the car, and both men knew the radiator was shot.
"Are you alright to run?" Matt asked Dan.
"Yea I'm good, let’s go." He replied, sever scrapes across his arms and cuts on his face from the impact with the dashboard.
"Quick, while we still have time!" Dan yelled out.
The two men kicked the doors open and spilled out. They hit the ground running and made their way up the street. The zombies were giving chase but not yet gaining on them. They could see more zombies up ahead that hadn't yet noticed them and sever buildings including some residential homes.
"There!" Matt pointed up the street to a yellow building with a police shield symbol above the doorway. Walls of sandbags in the street stood with barbed wire atop them. The nearby zombies were alerted by the sound of sprinting feet against pavement and became immediately interested in the source of the noise. Both men were panting from the sprint, but the zombies behind them gave no indication that they were even winded.
"Keep running, we're almost there!" Matt yelled to Dan behind him. He risked a glance over his shoulder and the nearest zombie was only trailing Dan by about 5 long paces now. They were gaining on them fast.
Keeping his eyes on the door of the police station, Matt ran with lungs burning. He weaved between the sandbags, Dan hot on his heels. A ghastly roar called out from off to the right somewhere and a zombie appeared, sprinting toward them from across the street. The zombie threw itself over concrete barriers and made for the two men, colliding with Dan just as Matt slammed against the police station's door. He jiggled the handle, but it was locked. He yelled something incoherent as he had no breathe left to speak. Dan struggled with a zombie clinging to his back and countless more were only paces behind him.
The door swung open and a tall, bearded man stood inside, a police rifle held at the ready. He pulled the trigger and the thunderous blast reverberated off Matt's eardrums. The head of the zombie gripping dan snapped back from the impact, and it crumbled to the ground. The two wasted no time spilling into the doorway and falling to the ground. The bearded man slammed the door behind them just as an arm reached inside. The stranger struggled with the door as multiple figures fought to open it.
"Fiona!" He yelled out.
A head of long luscious blonde hair appeared, and a woman swung a machete down at the wrist blocking the door. A ghastly hand fell to the floor and the door slammed shut. The stranger locked it and slid a large wooden desk in front of it.
"They can't get in. We got everything closed up, and they don't have the brain power to turn handles." The stranger said to the room. "You aren't bitten, are you?" the stranger asked Dan. The blonde was already giving him a once over.
"He looks clean." she said in a Scottish accent that matched the man at the door. Matt and Dan helped themselves up off the floor and looked at their surroundings.
"Hey thanks bruv, we owe you one." Matt said to the man. "I'm Matt. This is my buddy Dan."
"I'm Gavin. This lovely creature is Fiona, that's Mystica, and Sky." Gavin pointed at the individuals in turn as they all sat around the lobby of the police station. It was the first time Matt and Dan realized there were other people in the room.
“We all came in on the same flight together from England. This place was supposed to be a haven.” Gavin said, visibly disappointed. “I take it you two heard the same broadcasts we did.”
“That’s right.” Matt replied. “We should have known they were all full of shit. It’s the same here as it is everywhere else.”
“Not exactly the same.” Gavin said. “I spoke to a guy on our flight, said this whole island is a secret military facility. Name was Tav something or other. He said there’s a whole underground base full of weapons and supplies. It takes a special card to get into, that only the higher ups in the military have. It’s probably untouched. Or at least contained.”
“What happened to this Tav guy? Where is he now?” Dan asked.
“We got separated once the plane landed. There were all these soldiers, and they were rushing us around, trying to tell us we couldn’t stay here. They got overrun and we scattered in the chaos.”
“Sounds like something worth looking into.” Matt said. “What are the chances of coming across one of these access cards?”
A grin came over Gavin’s face, and he pulled something from his pocket. He held up a dirty yellow card with a series of holes punched in seemingly random places all over it. It was obviously a key card of some kinds.
“Found this on a zombie I killed while looking for weapons and supplies. It’s got to be what he was talking about.” Gavin said. “Now we’ve got to find the entrance.”
The new friends discussed some ideas, and a plan began to form. They’d try to find this under ground bunker and maybe escape this hell hole. Who knew what could be waiting for them down there.
…That was how the plan started. Sometimes I wonder, if we knew how it would all turn out, would we still have gone looking for it? Oh well, can’t change the past. Besides, it wasn’t all bad, but that’s a story for another time. Maybe sometime I’ll tell ya about Matty Yuko, or the time those raiders attacked us for two solid days straight. Maybe I’ll tell ya about the time I met Matt and the guys and how they saved my ass, or the big ass new years eve party. That was a riot, literally. We’ve got so many stories to tell, I could easily fill this journal. I’ll have to save it for another time. It’s almost time to start my watch, and I gotta go rescue Dova’s kneecaps before Jess takes em. Till next time, Harlow out.