The Last Bastion of the Living: A Futuristic Zombie Novel (4 page)

“
Good morning, citizens of
The Bastion
. Though the
Inferi Scourge
continues to gather outside the walls of our fine city, the citizens of
The Bastion
continue to live their lives freely without threat. Several pivotal victories against the
Inferi Scourge
have...
”

Maria turned on the shower to drown out the lies and half-truths delivered by the mouthpiece of the government she no longer trusted. The anchorwoman, Raquel, was even more popular than President
Cabot
and people tr
usted her implicitly. Maria didn
’
t understand the blind devotion.

Stepping into the shower, she braced herself as the freezing drops pelted her skin. The cold water washed away the last vestiges of sleep, awakening both her body and mind.

When she moved out of the shower into the muggy warmth of her flat, the fresh smell of coffee filled her nostrils. Naked, she poured the rich brew into a small cup, spooned in generous heaps of the raw sugar Dwayne had managed to
procure
, and gulped down the strong mixture. It was almost hot enough to burn her tongue, but the rush of caffeine and sugar really hit the spot. The vid screen had shut off after the morning dose of propaganda. Enjoying the quiet, she leaned her hip against the counter while she stared out the narrow window to the busy streets below.

Pouring herself a second cup, she couldn
’
t help but feel a twinge of remorse as she saw children rushing through the morning crowds to school. Though she had never really thought about being a mother, the loss of her reproductive system due to her battle injuries had sealed that door forever. Dwayne had twins, a boy and a girl, about to celebrate their eighteenth birthday, and an older daughter that he had a difficult relationship with. Aware of her infertility, Dwayne was silent on the issue of them having children. She suspected he was waiting for her to bring up the subject. They could always adopt or apply to have themselves cloned, but Maria was uncertain about bringing children into this dismal world.

Of course, the government was always pushing for more children despite the shortages. The ratio between men and women continued to be worrisome. Only a third of the population of
The Bastion
was male. A large number of the deaths when the gate failed had been men.

Maria
hated to admit it, but ever since the battle she had given up hoping for something more than her dreary life. Only Dwayne made life bearable and if not for him, she was certain she would have drowned in despair by now.

Sliding her finger over the face of her wristlet, she activated the screen. Every
resident of
The Bastion
wore the device from birth.
It expanded as the person grew, keeping a snug fit to the wrist, and
couldn
’
t
be removed.
Paper-thin, two inches wide, with a silver sheen to the metal, it was not only a communication device and personal computer; it was the government
’
s direct link to the citizens. The life signs of every citizen were constantly monitored
by the
Science Warfare Division
,
and the instant someone died a squad was dispatched to destroy the body immediately. The
ISPV
was
not
air
borne, but the government didn
’
t want to
risk
a possible mutation.
The implementation of the wristlets had been controversial in the days before the
Inferi Scourge
had
finally destroyed civilization, but now the civilians of
The Bastion
were comforted by its presence on their wrist. It
provided a connection
to relatives
and friends
living o
n the far edges of the city
,
as well as ke
p
t
them informed of the
latest updates on
food distribution, weather, and government
news
.

Like many, Maria
simply regarded it as an extension of herself.

The screen lit up and she quickly tapped in her password. Her orders for the day appeared, unchanged from the night before, but she furrowed her brow a
t
a new message from only an hour earlier. Sliding her finger over the message, it unfurled, filling the screen. Reading it over twice, she slowly lifted
an
eyebrow.

It was two short sentences ordering her to report to the Section Officer
’
s office to meet with a representative from the Science Warfare Division after her patrol. The message was marked as top priority and top secret. Staring at the words, she
couldn
’
t
fathom why she would be summoned by the SWD. Before her release from the hospital, she had been cleared of all contamination by the
ISPV
.

Still frowning, she quickly dispatched a coded message to Dwayne letting him know she
’
d be home late. Pulling her heated oatmeal from the small oven, she shoveled the near
ly
tasteless food into her mouth, suddenly feeling quite nervous about the day.

* * *

Hurrying up the long, winding metal staircase to the elevated monorail station, Dwayne finished eating the last of his protein bar. The flavorless meal left a chalky residue in his mouth and he couldn
’
t wait to snag a decent cup of coffee at his office.
Arriving at
the station, Dwayne glanced over his shoulder at the sprawl of the city. Below, the inhabitants of
The Bastion
rushed about in a frenzy of activity. The morning sky was heavy with the promise of rain. The threat of storms always had the populace scurrying in preparation for the possibility of buildings leaking, power outages and flooding. A government drone wound its way through the streets broadcasting the latest news on the war against the
Inferi Scourge
on its screens while urging the citizens to remain diligent. Dwayne noticed that a few people stopped to watch the update, but most continued their morning routines without a second glance at the drone.

The station was off limits to civilians and only a few low ranking officers were milling around, sipping lukewarm coffee from a vending machine. The old benches, upholstered in black vinyl, were torn and cracked, revealing the padding. It was just another reminder of the slow decay of the once gleaming city.

A slight tingle alerted him to an incoming message and he quickly checked his wristlet. Entering his password, he watched a series of communiqués download. Stepping away from the other commuters, he read through the messages. Most were from the brass canceling all the meetings previously scheduled for the day. One was from his soon to be ex-wife reminding him to speak to his lawyer once he was off duty. The last was from Maria informing him she would be delayed in the evening.

“What the hell is going on with today?” he muttered.

Dwayne
glanced toward the military complex that took up nearly all the southern quarter of the city. The tall steel buildings were as gray and ominous as the approaching storm, but there
didn
’
t
appear to be any unusual activity. Yet, the cancellation of all his meetings with the upper brass and even Maria
’
s mysterious delay
didn
’
t
sit well with him. The grind of the daily routine was one of the things Dwayne
could depend on,
and any ch
anges,
usually due to some unexpected occurrence
, was a concern
.

In this terrible world they
lived in, disruptions to the carefully
at
tended balance of the city could cause major problems
. The last time all his meetings had been canceled it was due to the food riots.

His gut told him something was not right, and it took all his willpower not to rush down the steps and into the streets to find Maria.

Closing down the screen of his wristlet, Dwayne looked up to see some of the other officers staring at their own orders with perplexed expressions on their faces.

Sweat began to bead his forehead, not because of the muggy air, but because he suddenly
feared
that the
Inferi Scourge
had finally breached the walls.

Chapter 2

The narrow hallway was stiflingly hot and the smell of boiling laundry was strong and acrid. Through the open door of one of the flats, Maria caught sight of two older women stirring a large stainless steel tub on a makeshift stove. Rose Bergman waved to her while Rose Garcia scowled into the mix of soap and water. Maria always
thought of the sweet couple as
‘
the Roses,
’
but she found it easier to call them by their last names.

“Be careful on the wall!” Ms. Bergman called out.

“Don
’
t tell her what to do, Rose,” Ms. Garcia snapped. “You
’
re always so bossy.”

“I
’
m showing concern for her wellbeing, Rose,” Ms. Bergman pouted.

Feeling obligated to make an
appearance,
Maria stepped back into the doorway and waved. “I
’
ll be fine, Ms. Bergman. Thank you.”

The older woman with the unruly silver curls smiled at her sweetly while Ms. Garcia scowled. The couple loved to squabble and Maria found it endearing. Both appeared to be in their sixties and wore their hair long under colorful headscarves. They worked long hours cleaning laundry for most of the people living in the building. Maria paid them in credits while other
s paid in food and other wares.

“We
’
ll have your laundry ready tonight,” Ms. Garcia informed her. “
We
’
re
running a little behind. The blackouts set us back.”

“We had to get out the propane stove,” Ms. Bergman explained.

“It
’
s all good. I don
’
t need my things until tomorrow anyway.” The pungent fumes from the soap were making her eyes water and she suppressed a small cough.

“We
’
ll drop it off at your flat tonight,” Ms. Bergman promised.

Pulling out her wallet, Maria fished out a few credits. “Here let me pay you now.”

“Oh, we couldn
’
t,” Ms. Bergman protested.

Ms. Garcia plucked the money from Maria
’
s hand and thrust it into one of the pockets of her heavy apron.

“Rose, we can
’
t!” Ms. Bergman chided her. “Not until we
’
re done with the job.”

“You need your pills,” Ms. Garcia said, her heavily sweating face set with determination. She continued to stir the laundry, ignoring her partner.

“It
’
s fine. Really.” Maria slipped out of the doorway. “You get your pills and I
’
ll see you tonight.”

“Oh, Maria,” Ms. Bergman called out, rushing out after her. “I just wanted to thank you so much for all you
’
re doing.”

“It
’
s no problem paying early.”

“No, no, I meant about the speech last night. It was so wonderful to hear that we
’
re close to defeating the
Scrags
.
It
’
s
the first time in so long I feel any hope!” Ms. Bergman clutched Maria
’
s hands in her strong, callused ones. “I keep telling Rose that things will be so much better once the
Scrags
are gone and we can return to the outside world. I do miss it so.”

Swallowing hard, Maria mulled over her words before responding. “We
’
re just doing our best out there. I do my part. That
’
s all I can say.”

Ms. Bergman
’
s big blue eyes stared into hers searchingly. “
We
’
re
close to winning, aren
’
t we?” Her voice wavered slightly.

Not wanting to see hope die in her sweet friend
’
s eyes, Maria squeezed her hand. “Of course. Closer and closer every day.”

An enormous smile burst onto Ms. Bergman
’
s round face and she giggled like a girl. “I keep telling Rose that, but she is always so cantankerous.”

“I can hear you!” Ms. Garcia called out.

“Don
’
t worry. We
’
re doing our best,” Maria declared, letting go of the woman
’
s hand.

Clapping her hands, Ms. Bergman rushed back into her apartment. “I told you, Rose! We
’
re winning!”

Turning, Maria hurried down the hall, half-smiling as the two wives continued their argument. The door to the outside was propped open with a broken cement block in a futile attempt to circulate air through the hallway. She stepped out onto the metal staircase that led down to the street and held tightly to the handrail as she descended the creaking stairs.

All the buildings in
The Bastion
had their primary entrances on the second floor. There were no windows or doors on the ground level of any of the buildings as a security precaution. The stairwells were collapsible, which was becoming a hazard as they grew rickety with age and the mechanisms sometimes gave away.

Striding into the street, she immediately noted the lack of open stalls along her pathway. Usually people were hawking their wares and services as soon as the sun rose, but with the impending storm rolling over the high mountain summits the businesses would remain closed until it passed. No one could afford a loss of inventory.

Most of the citizens of
The Bastion
were unemployed. Every citizen was provided with a home, rations, and basic living necessities from the city
’
s wares. Those who were able to find employment fared a little better, able to purchase services and wares with Bastion credits. But there were no opulent homes to save up for, no cars to buy, no luxury goods. Therefore, most of the citizens created their own work like the Roses had done with their laundry services. For the citizens who ran the stalls barter was a way of life. Maria was one of the few able to pay with credits.

A drone rolled past her on its narrow treads, its screens flashing scenes of the military firing on the
Inferi Scourge
. Old footage, Maria noted. Soldiers patrolling the walls were not allowed to fire any of the precious ammunition stores unless absolutely necessary, and patrols outside of the walls
didn
’
t
exist. She sidestepped the drone and plunged down a busier side street. It was packed with government officials rushing to the monorail system to catch the train. Usually the final train scheduled to run in the morning was the least packed, but people always ran late during bad weather.

The first drops of rain
fell
as she reached the stairs to the station. Clutching the slick handrail, she pounded up the metal steps. Her long braid felt heavy against her back as she pulled the hood of her gray uniform over her head. As she stepped onto the platform, a h
and gripped her arm. S
he almost jerked away, then realized it was Dwayne.

“I thought you left o
n the earlier train,” she said
.

Under the brim of his hat, his blue eyes were vivid and full of concern. “All my meetings were canceled for the day.”

“Why?” Maria arched an eyebrow.

“I
’
m not certain,” he said in a low voice, pulling her away from the rest of the commuters. “I think something is up.”

Maria was startled to feel hope swell within her. “Do you think it
’
s true then? That we
’
re close to defeating them?”

Dwayne exhaled slowly, then leaned toward her. “I think it may be that
w
e
’
re
not
close to defeating them.”

Sighing as the spark of hope died within her, Maria nodded her head. “And the president made so many promises last night...”

“The brass may be scrambling to make his promises a reality. I
’
m not sure. I don
’
t rank high enough to be in the know.” Rain beaded on the visor of his cap, then trickled off. “Why are you going to be late tonight?”

“I have a meeting after patrol.” She wanted to tell him it was with the SWD, but she didn
’
t dare with so many people milling about.

Frowning, Dwayne glanced toward the wall. “Just be careful today. Something doesn
’
t feel right and it
’
s not just the storm.”

The monorail train rushed into the station,
g
lid
ing
to a quiet stop. The doors on the sleek white train slid open and the waiting commuters surged forward.

“Whatever is going on, we
’
ll deal with it,” Maria said.

Dwayne smiled slightly. “We will.”

Together, they moved toward the train, their shoulders brushing as they walked. Maria wanted to touch his hand or have him wrap his arm around her, but discretion was best. Inside the train, most of the seats were occupied, so she found a corner and grabbed hold of the strap above her head. Dwayne joined her, holding onto the pole beside him. The doors closed with a hiss and the train lurched into motion.

The storm raged over the city, sheets of rain falling in great bands. Maria peeked out of the window and saw that most of the streets were empty. Lightning sliced across the sky as thunder rumbled.

“It
’
s right over us now,” Dwayne noted.

The buildings of the military complex rose higher than the rest of the city. They were ugly, dreary buildings, with black windows on only a few floors. The complex hugged the high wall and occupied a good portion of the southern part of the city. The government buildings nestled closer to the center were more impressive with sleek glass faces and more ornate styling. The capital building strongly resembled an elongated pyramid. The only ornamental garden in the city surrounded the capital. All the other parks or gardens that had been part of the original design of
The Bastion
had long been turned into housing complexes
after the gate failed and the survivors from the valley had taken refuge in
side
the walls
. As the train swept past the only part of the city Maria found even remotely attractive, she turned her gaze away. The building only reminded her of the
p
resident
’
s speech full of empty promises.

“We
’
re both in a mood this morning,” Dwayne mused.

“It
’
s the storm,” Maria answered, even though they both knew it was much more than the weather causing them concern. The Constabulary was going to be hard pressed to bring the President
’
s speech into reality. No president of
The Bastion
had ever made such bold promises before.

Dwayne gave her a slight smile that made her want to press kisses to his lips, but she fought the urge by looking at her wristlet. Just a few more minutes and she would be on the wall.

There was a sharp inhalation of breath from nearby, and then several people let out gasps of surprise.

“Look!” a man exclaimed, pointing out the window.

The commuters flooded to the sides of the car, faces and hands pressing to the glass. Being taller than most of the people on the train, Maria simply had to stand on tiptoes to peer over their heads.

“Dwayne
!
” she gasped.

“I see it.”

A tiltrotor
was swooping low over the city heading toward the capital building. The last
tiltrotor
Maria had witnessed in the air was the one that had rescued her a year before. Soon after, all the air
craft
had been grounded due to lack of fuel. Her heart sped up at the sight of the black shape
moving across the sky, its
rotors repositioning to land.

Several people clapped just before the train swept into the main terminal of the city. Excited conversation filled the air. Quite a few of the commuters were already tapping away on their wristlets with great excitement.

“What does it mean?” Maria wondered aloud.

“I
’
m not sure,” Dwayne answered, the lines in his face deepening.

The monorail train slid to a stop and Maria reluctantly started toward the doors. Dwayne dared to lightly press his hand against the small of her back as they shuffled along at the rear of the crowd. The mood in the train had been muted until the appearance of the
aircraft
and now the ecstatic expressions and joyful chatter seemed oddly out of place on such a dreary morning.