Zombie Off - The Beginning
Author: Scott Lee
Date: 0101-01-01 00:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Horror; Zombies; Zombie; Undead; philadelphia; zombie apocalypse; scott lee
Description: It’s been a year since the initial outbreak of the zombie apocalypse, and for the survivors in the suburbs of Philadelphia, everything is about to change. When a mysterious man shows up at the gate of their safe zone, proclaiming to have “a product of vital interest and importance”, more than a few residents wanted answers, including Connor. Venturing to the nearby Chemcorp facility, survivors

ZOMBIE OFF – The Beginning

By Scott Lee

Copyright 2014 Scott Lee

Smashwords Edition

Introduction

This is the prequel to the ZOMBIE OFF series. Reading it will give you background and insight into the ZOMBIE OFF story line.

It’s been a year since the initial outbreak of the zombie apocalypse, and for the survivors in the suburbs of Philadelphia, everything is about to change. When a mysterious man shows up at the gate of their safe zone, proclaiming to have “a product of vital interest and importance,” more than a few residents wanted answers, including Connor. Venturing to the nearby Chemcorp facility, survivors throughout the region gather and are introduced to a chemist named Abe Morrow . . . and to a product that would change everything.

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

Other Fine Books by Scott Lee;

ZOMBIE OFF

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

First and foremost I want to thank my best friend on this planet, Doug Ward, without whom I would likely have never written this book. If not for his constant pushing for me to pen my ideas, I’d likely still be sitting with just a few notes in a leather journal. I’d also like to thank Michael Fallen, Luke Whiteman, Maliki Zbikowski and Cassie Finnegan, the great students of Springdale High School who graciously posed for the cover of this novelette. Great job!

Finally, I’d like to thank my many friends and family for the wonderful support they gave me through the months of writing. Your words of encouragement did not fall on deaf ears. Last, but certainly not least, thanks to my wife Chris for supporting me through this adventure and listening to my endless talk about preparing for the upcoming zombie apocalypse.

ZOMBIE OFF - The Beginning

Connor sat on the couch and scritched the ears of the big gray tabby on his lap, the cat purring happily in response.

“Come on, Monty. I gotta go. You have to let me up sooner or later.”

The cat just squinted its eyes and smiled, refusing to budge.

“OK. Fine. We’ll do it the hard way.”

Raising his body, the cat defied gravity and managed to stay on his lap until he was nearly vertical before finally jumping to the floor.

“Sorry buddy. But I need to get going. I have to meet with the Chemcorp guys, and I don’t want to be late.

Moving to the kitchen table, Connor grabbed his katana and slung it across his back before picking up the belt pouch he had sitting next to it. Opening the pouch, he inspected the contents, double checking to make sure it was all there. Satisfied, he attached the pouch to his belt and headed for the door.

“I’ll be back in a few hours, Monty,” he yelled.

But the cat was now lying on the floor, having captured a particularly nice patch of sunlight, and showed no interest in what his person was doing as it washed its face.

As Connor emerged from the stairwell and walked into the lobby, two old men at a reversible game table looked up, their expressions unchanged as they saw his attire. He was dressed in Kevlar jeans and a yellow and black mesh motorcycle jacket, with black motorcycle boots and black leather gloves completing the ensemble. Heading to the corner of the lobby, he grabbed his mountain bike and headed for the door.

“Got another run, Seeker?” one of the old men asked.

“Not today, old timer. Just have a meeting.”

The old man just nodded and turned back to his chess game, studying the board intently.

Wheeling the bike outside, he jumped on and pedaled his way to the front gate. As he approached, two armed guards turned to greet him.

Handing him a clipboard, he signed his name and checked his watch before writing down the time.

Handing the clipboard back, the guard gave a signal and the bus fired up its engine.

“Good luck,” was all the guard said as he stepped aside.

Nodding, Connor watched as the bus backed up to give him room to pass. The gate was actually a school bus with steel plates welded to it that was now used as the main gate.

Pedaling through, he turned and headed for the Schuylkill River Trail that bordered the complex. Glancing over his shoulder, he watched as the bus moved back into position, once again sealing off the apartment complex from the outside world. On the walls he could see more armed guards, positioned at regular intervals, watching him move away. Turning his attention back to his task, he pedaled to the path and headed west toward the Chemcorp plant. As Connor rode along the path, he reflected on the events that set him on his current course of action.

It was a warm spring day when a representative from the Chemcorp facility near Collegeville, PA had shown up at their gate, proclaiming that he had “a product of vital interest and importance” to the inhabitants of the safe zone.

He stated that anyone interested in a demonstration should be at the Chemcorp south gate at noon, three days later. He also said not to be late. With that he simply turned and left, leaving everyone who heard him perplexed and more than curious.

Word quickly spread about the mysterious visit, with most of the inhabitants viewing it as some sort of trick or trap. But Connor had been there when the messenger had arrived, and something about the way he presented himself left little doubt in his mind that there was substance to his claim. Connor had good instincts, and his gut told him he should go and see what this mystery product was.

Most of the people in the safe zone complex wanted nothing to do with the whole situation, but a handful, like Connor, wanted answers. So three days after the mysterious visit, a small group of people from the complex climbed into a pickup truck and headed for Chemcorp. Connor, riding on his motorcycle, joined them.

The trip to the plant had been relatively uneventful, with the usual small groups of zombies and the occasional horde causing some minor delays. The men were armed and prepared for these encounters, and easily dispatched or avoided the undead as they made their way to the Chemcorp facility.

Arriving at the south gate at 11:45, they were surprised to see a host of other vehicles already parked at the gate, with others arriving as they pulled up. Clearly, a representative from Chemcorp had visited the other safe zones in the area, passing along the same message. None of the groups were interacting with each other, which was not surprising, choosing instead to talk among themselves as they pondered the situation. Pulling into an open spot, Connor and the other men sat and waited, watching the gate as the minutes ticked by.

As they waited, Connor looked upon the other groups. As his gazed scanned the crowd, it was easy to tell which groups were facing the greatest hardship in this post-apocalyptic world. To his far left was a group of five men, all clad in biker leathers, standing around a beat up, full sized Ford pickup. Their clothes were dirty and their faces rough and weathered. As they talked, their eyes darted about as they watched and waited. Next to that group was a Hummer H2, complete with a ram bar on the front. Five clean-shaven men stood around the shiny vehicle, casually discussing the reason they were there. The area near the gate was packed with survivors, and each group’s appearance told a different story. Most weren’t good.

At precisely 12:00, three large white SUVs with tinted windows approached from the distance, stopping at the gate in front of them. From out of the middle vehicle stepped a well dressed man, about 40 years old, wearing a very expensive looking business suit. As he moved toward the gate, the remaining doors of the SUVs opened and eleven heavily armed men exited and moved to the front of the vehicles, guns at the ready.

“Gentlemen, and ladies. Thank you for coming,” he said, a broad smile crossing his face as he spread his arms wide in welcome.

“My name is Abe Morrow, and I have no doubt you are extremely curious as to the meaning behind my message.”

The men and women of the gathered groups nodded in agreement, some voicing their interest out loud.

“I can tell you that your trip here to my facility will be well worth your time, and that your lives from this point forward will be forever changed.”

Connor watched the man closely, showing no reaction to his politician like speech. Listening carefully to his choice of words, he couldn’t help but notice he used the words “my facility” in describing the Chemcorp complex. Connor’s brow furrowed as he listened on.

“Now, if you’d be so kind as to follow us, I believe all your questions will be answered.”

One of the armed guards quickly walked forward and punched a code into a small box near the fence. Seconds later, the large gate slowly slid open as Morrow and the guards returned to their vehicles. Four of the guards remained outside of their SUV as Morrow’s and the other pulled away. Waving their hands, the guards signaled for the crowd of onlookers to follow.

Eight vehicles and Connors motorcycle fell into line behind the Chemcorp SUVs as they headed around the outer loop of the complex. Driving past the main gate, the SUVs came to a stop on the backside of the complex where the roadway widened.

A large chain link fence with barbed wire on top surrounded part of the complex, and that fence ran just feet from the edge of the road in this particular spot. A large grove of trees sat on the other side of the fence.

But what garnered the most attention as the vehicles pulled up was the horde of zombies gathered at the fence in an open grassy area to the left of the trees. No less than 25 zombies stood at the fence, moaning in anticipation as the various groups exited their vehicles, their hands gripping and shaking the fence as they tried to reach the living.

Climbing from his vehicle, Morrow walked towards the zombies and stopped about five feet in front of them, the smile never leaving his face. His close proximity to the undead only fueled their desire for flesh, exciting them further.

“Please. Gather round. There’s enough room for all of you. I want everyone to have a good view of my presentation.”

Slowly, his confused guests moved to join him, their eyes darting around as they cautiously stood before the undead horde. Connor, meanwhile, calmly walked up and stood with the others, watching intently.

Once everyone was present, Morrow turned sideways and swept his hand in the direction of the zombies.

“The undead,” he exclaimed in a dramatic voice. “The new top of the food chain.”

He paused for dramatic effect as he turned back to the crowd.

“We, the living, are the minority. The hunted. The prey,” he exclaimed loudly, stirring the nearby zombies into a near frenzy.

Again he paused, looking across the gathered ranks of survivors, his face grim and somber.

“But it doesn’t have to be that way,” he said, his facial expression turning to one of determination.

“We no longer need to run. We no longer need to hide,” he said, the smile returning to his face.

“We are no longer prey!” he said dramatically.

Turning to the fence, he placed his fingers to his mouth and whistled loudly, the zombies violently shaking the fence in response.

The gathered guests were now looking at each other with a mixture of confusion, concern, and apprehension. All except for Connor. Slowly he moved forward, a look of curiosity hidden behind his sunglasses.

As the onlookers stood transfixed, they watched in amazement as two men emerged from the tree line behind the zombies. Gasps could be heard throughout the crowd as the figures moved into the open, for both men wore nothing more than a pair of shorts and boots. What was even more shocking was that neither man was armed. No guns. No machetes. Not even so much as a pocketknife.

One of the onlookers spoke up.

“What the hell, Morrow? Did you call us here to witness a massacre?” he yelled.

Morrow turned back to the startled onlookers, his grin even wider.

“Watch,” he said with a smug look on his face.

Slowly, the two men walked forward. Calmly, methodically, they headed towards the fence. There was no fear in their eyes. No worry on their faces. It was as if they were on a simple walk in the park before the apocalypse hit.

But what really got everyone’s attention was that the zombies never turned around. Sure, the men were being quiet in their approach, but everyone present knew that one of the undead’s primary sources of detecting the living was smell. They should have smelled them long before now, especially since they were upwind.

The two men were now no more than 20 feet from the fence, yet the zombies continued to ignore them. It was as if the men didn’t exist.

The two men continued forward, now only 10 feet away. Connor removed his sunglasses as he watched in amazement. Others around him stood transfixed, their jaws open in shock and bewilderment.

Suddenly, the men stopped, as if waiting for permission to step forward. That is when Morrow spoke, his voice booming over the moans of the dead.

“Behold! I give you ZOMBIE OFF!”

With that the two men walked forward the final ten feet, taking their place among the zombies at the fence, their hands gripping the metal as the horrifying abominations next to them continued to focus on the stunned observers, ignoring the living flesh next to them.

There they stood, two living men, elbow to elbow with the undead. They not only weren’t being torn apart, they weren’t even seen. Not one person watching could believe what they were seeing, not even Connor. As if to drive home the shock value, the men actually moved from spot to spot on the fence, at times forcing their way between zombies to stand between them.

The astonished crowd stood, transfixed, as Morrow smiled in triumph.

“Oh, one more thing,” he said as he walked over to a nearby guard.

Taking two large knives from his soldier, he tossed the blades high over the fence, the knives landing silently in the grass behind the zombies. The two men slowly walked from the ranks of the undead, each retrieving a knife. Walking back to the fence, the two men split up, each heading to the far edge of the zombie line.

Connor’s eyes widened as he witnessed what happened next.

As each man reached the end zombie, they walked up behind it, thrusting the knife deep into the back of the skull, dropping the creature instantly. Systematically the two men walked down the line, killing each and every zombie at the fence, totally invisible to the ones still standing. When all was said and done, every zombie in the horde lay dead at the fence, leaving the two nearly naked men standing alone in front of the speechless spectators.

Turning his attention to the crowd, Morrow spoke two simple words.

“Any questions?”

Suddenly the group of onlookers erupted, everyone speaking at once. Everyone, that is, except Connor. Standing calmly in the back, he watched as the others fawned over Morrow and his new product.

Connor had no doubts as to the product’s validity. He witnessed it with his own eyes. What he wasn’t convinced of was the ultimate motive of the man who created it. Connor was a good judge of people, and something about Abe Morrow didn’t sit well with him. And one thing was certain . . . he didn’t trust him.

Flanked by his guards, Morrow headed back to his SUV with the crowd following close behind. As they gathered around the vehicle, Morrow opened the back and pulled out a neon green spray can, about the size of your average can of tick repellent or hair spray. Turning around, he held it out in front of him for all to see. Printed on the can, in large, red letters, were the words ZOMBIE OFF.

“This, my friends, is ZOMBIE OFF. The product that will level the playing field against the undead. Simply spray it on and the zombies won’t even notice you.”

“How does it work?” yelled one man from the back.

“In a nutshell, it blocks the human scent. The details are a bit complicated, but suffice it to say, when you’re wearing it, the zombies simply can’t detect you.”

“So you’re saying we can just walk among them, worry free?” asked another.

“Well, there are a few rules you have to abide by,” replied Morrow. “One, it has to be applied directly to the skin, it can’t be applied to clothes. Also, you need to leave the skin exposed. Covering it up minimizes its effectiveness. Two, you can’t get wet. It’s not waterproof, so getting wet will wash it off and leave you exposed. Three, don’t sweat. If you sweat too much, it will disrupt the formula and leave you exposed. Finally, it only hides you from the zombie’s primary means of detecting us, which is smell. If you make noise or move quickly, they will find you, and they will eat you. So never, ever run.”

There was muttering among the group as they digested the information Morrow just revealed.

“So, as long as we follow those rules, we’ll be safe?” asked one of the women in the crowd.

“Guaranteed,” said Morrow, smiling.

“How long do the effects last?” asked another.

“Very good question. The duration varies slightly from person to person, but you can expect at least four hours out of one application. On some of our test subjects it lasted five.”

Morrow waited patiently for any additional questions. With the crowd now silent, he snapped his fingers. Immediately, a guard appeared from behind one of the other SUV’s carrying a small box.

“A little something for each of you,” said Morrow, his grin widening. “This is a sample spray can good for one full body application.”

The guard walked around, giving everyone a single, miniature version of the can Morrow still held in his hand. Connor took his, inspecting it closely.

“Give it a try. If you like how it works, there’s plenty more where that came from.”

“And what will it cost us?” came a voice from the crowd.

“Ahhh. I was waiting for that question. By now you’ve all probably figured that my ZOMBIE OFF comes at a price.”

Looking around the crowd, he continued.

“I take only one form of payment, my friends. Gold.”

The people around him exchanged glances.

“How much gold do we need for a can?” asked another onlooker.

“The number of cans you receive will be dependent upon how much gold you bring.”

Again, the crowd exchanged glance.

“Now, I’m sure you all are anxious to go out and try out my product. My men will be passing out my business card with a shortwave radio frequency and CB radio channel printed on it. If you like how the ZOMBIE OFF works and are interested in purchasing more, simply contact me. Or, if you prefer, you can come directly to my gates.”

Turning, he headed for his SUV, three armed guards flanking him closely. When he reached the vehicle, he stopped and addressed the crowd one final time.

“I look forward to doing business with each and every one of you. Please, feel free to tell your friends if you like my product. There is plenty to go around.”

As one of his men opened the door, he called out to the visitors.

“My men will show you out.”

With that, he closed the door and the SUV drove away. At the guard’s request, everyone returned to their vehicles and headed out of the gate, returning to their respective safe zones with a whole new outlook on the zombie apocalypse.

Connor sat in his apartment, staring at the small can of ZOMBIE OFF sitting on the coffee table. Monty sat on his lap, enjoying the long strokes of his hand as he contemplated what he had witnessed at the Chemcorp facility.

He had given up hope for a vaccine or cure long before now, figuring it wouldn’t do much good anyways. You can’t bring them back, and the best a vaccine could do would be to prevent turning if you were bitten. But what Morrow had created . . . this could make a difference.

Connor reached out and picked up the can, spinning it around in his hand. If this stuff really did work, then it could change everything. Supply runs would no longer be feared. You could actually walk outside of the walls without fear of being attacked.

Reading the blood red words out loud, he shook his head in amazement. “ZOMBIE OFF.” He paused for a second, looking down at Monty. “This stuff could change the world.”

Getting up from the couch he headed to the window and looked out over the Schuylkill River. After a few seconds he let out a heavy sigh. Monty had jumped onto the table behind him and sat watching him quizzically.

“I know what I saw buddy. There’s no way they could have faked it,” he said to the cat. “But I have to know for sure.”

Stripping off his clothes, he grabbed the can and headed for the bathroom. After a minute, he came out and put on his socks, boots, underwear and shorts. Next, he put on his motorcycle riding gear. Lastly, he slung his katana over his shoulder, threw one of his large hunting knives into his backpack with his other supplies, and headed for the door.

“Wish me luck, buddy,” he called to Monty as he closed the door behind him.

Connor headed through the lobby toward the main exit of his apartment building, passing the two old men seated at the game table.

“What’s new, Seeker?” one called out.

“Everything,” replied Connor as he walked past and out the door.

Reaching the sidewalk, he headed for his motorcycle, which was parked along the side of the building. The motorcycle was equipped with two saddlebags and two pieces of luggage that were attached to the sissy bar/luggage rack combo. He used the bike for smaller supply runs that didn’t require the need for carting back large amounts of stuff. Since this was a ZOMBIE OFF test run, he wanted to have the bike for a quick getaway in case something went wrong. Folding up his backpack, he placed it in the larger of the two pieces of luggage.

Hopping on, he slid his helmet on, fired it up, and headed for the front gate. After quickly signing out, he was on his way. He had thought about where to test the product, and he had decided on a location that had been a trouble spot since the supply runs started - the local Walmart. He needed batteries and bottled water, so he might as well get some supplies while testing it out.

The ride to the store was short, taking only a few minutes. With the motorcycle he easily avoided any random zombies along the way, and since his bike wasn’t a Harley, it didn’t attract nearly as much attention.

Pulling into the large parking lot, he killed the engine as he coasted the final 30 yards to the front right corner of the store. Flipping down the kickstand, he dismounted and looked around.

Cars littered the parking lot of the Super Walmart, one of the largest in the area. Numerous times a supply run team attempted to raid the giant store, and each time they failed.

When the apocalypse broke out, the store had been full of shoppers. When the apocalypse hit full stride, the store was full of zombies. So many that it made a supply run inside difficult at best. The store was dark and had countless clothes racks and isle displays, not to mention the odd layout of the isles themselves. In the darkness, with so many zombies roaming the store, the risks were proving to be too high.

When the shit hit the fan, people that stayed inside the store locked and barricaded themselves in, which made accessing the store through the various entrances nearly impossible. As a result, teams couldn’t use the “draw them out” method to clear the store either.

To get in, you needed to access the roof and go in from the top. The few teams that tried this met with disastrous results once they were inside the store. The sheer numbers of undead were more than they could handle, and most team members were lucky to escape alive.

Connor stood at the corner of the store, surveying the surroundings. A handful of zombies wandered the parking lot, drawn by the sound and movement of the motorcycle. These would be the perfect first test for the ZOMBIE OFF.

Taking off his motorcycle gear and pulling out his backpack, he quietly drew his katana and slowly moved away from the bike, watching as the undead moved closer. Standing motionless, his muscles tensed as the zombies closed in, searching for the source of the noise they had heard just minutes before. The closer the undead came, the tighter Connor gripped his sword. Now the zombies were only a few yards away, and all of his instincts screamed for him to kill them. It took every ounce of self-restraint for him to stand his ground, but he forced himself to stay frozen.

Seconds later, the zombies were there. A dozen undead, wandering and staggering around him as if he didn’t even exist. Slowly, he turned in a circle as he watched the hideous creatures pass just inches away, showing no interest in him whatsoever.

Gradually, the grip on his sword relaxed, a slight smile crossing his face.

“Holy shit,” he said to himself. ‘This stuff really works.”

Slowly, he turned and walked through the roaming group of undead as he made his way to the back of the building. Along the way he passed dozens of zombies, and none of them even turned their head in his wake.

“Incredible,” he said to himself.

Moving along the loading docks, Connor came to a semi trailer parked at one of the loading bays. A tall extension ladder leaned against the side of it, with another ladder positioned on top that gained access to the roof. This was how the supply run teams had accessed the store.

Reaching the ladder, he couldn’t help but notice the blood stains on the rungs, a sobering reminder of the fate of the last team that entered this place. Looking up, he slung the backpack over his shoulder, took a deep breath, and started climbing. A few minutes later he was standing on the roof.

The quiet crunch of rooftop gravel was the only sound to be heard as he made his way across the open expanse to the small rectangular brick structure on the right side of the roof. A single closed door beckoned as he approached. Halfway there, he passed the decomposing corpses of the previous team members that didn’t make it. Each had a single gunshot to the back of the head, the standard procedure for dealing with the infected. There was no sign of struggle, for each of the unfortunate men and women knew that this was the only option if they were bitten. The surviving team members had an obligation to those unfortunate few. No one is left to rise again.

Connor never broke stride as he passed the fallen. Their bodies served as a reminder of the dangers that awaited, ZOMBIE OFF or not. Reaching the door, he unslung his backpack and removed the knife, attaching it to his belt. Taking off the sword sheath, he set it on the ground and prepared to go in. He decided to leave the sheath on the roof to avoid accidentally hitting something as he navigated the inside of the darkened building. The backpack he slung over his shoulders in its place.

Standing at the door, he pressed his ear to the metal, listening for any signs of movement on the other side. Hearing nothing, he grabbed the handle and slowly opened the door, staying behind it, just in case.

The first team that attempted to loot the giant super store had picked the door lock, and ever since it was left unlocked for any other team that chose to take on the challenge.

With the door open, Connor waited a few seconds and then headed in. Pulling a small LED flashlight out of his pocket, he turned it on, illuminating the dark stairwell. Shining the light downward, he could see the tiered stairs were clear down to the door at the bottom. Quietly, he made his descent until he was standing at the bottom.

On the other side of the door was the large back storage room, and from the reports, it was pitch black. Previous teams had managed to thin out the zombies in this area, but there was no telling if others had taken their place in the mean time.

Turning off the flashlight, he was plunged into total darkness as he slowly opened the door. Emerging from the stairwell, he only took a few steps before stopping and listening.

Through the darkness, Connor could hear the thump and slide of a zombie as it made its way through the pitch-black room. Seconds later, he was able to make out additional, more subtle noises . . . the slow slide of a shoeless foot . . . the sickening slap of a loose flesh as it hit the hard concrete floor. Connor was not alone.

He could smell the undead, but couldn’t make out where they were. The stench of death was overwhelming in this room, partly due to the decomposing bodies of the undead that were killed by prior teams.

Standing motionless in the dark, he listened as the noises echoed around him. The reverberation in the room made it difficult to pin point exactly where the undead were. There was only one way to get through the room safely, and that was to eliminate the zombies.

Removing the backpack, he set it quietly on the ground and carefully placed the flashlight on top of it in a way that would angle the beam upwards at a 45-degree angle. Gripping the sword tightly, he pressed the button on the back of the light and quickly took a few steps to his right where he stood, frozen.

Within seconds of the light going on, the sounds picked up, and a moment later the first of the undead appeared around the corner of one of the giant shelving units in the middle of the room. Connor didn’t move as the zombie approached, standing his ground like a statue as the grotesque creature reached the light source, still searching for food. As the zombie wandered about the light, another, more gruesome sight emerged from the shadows. Slowly, the horror made its way forward, dragging a flesh eaten foot behind it as it let forth a hair-raising moan. Watching, Connor steeled his nerves and remained perfectly still.

One by one the loathsome, terrifying undead materialized from the darkness, some walking, and some crawling. All were visions out of a nightmare. By the time the last of them staggered into the light, there were eight zombies milling around, their ghastly features amplified by the harsh shadows created by the flashlight beam.

Pulling his knife, Connor remembered the demonstration at the Chemcorp facility. Slowly, calmly, he maneuvered from one zombie to the next, driving his knife into the back of its skull. The process took a few minutes as he kept his actions slow and steady, never making any sudden moves. When all was said and done, eight bodies lay on the floor around the light.

Grabbing the flashlight, he slung the backpack back onto his shoulder and headed off through the massive storeroom, keeping his eye out for any additional, slow moving zombies. He saw none.

As he maneuvered through the storeroom, he eventually came upon the large, swinging doors that led to the main store area. Shielding his light, he slowly approached the door and peeked through the glass windows at the store beyond. He couldn’t see a thing through the pitch-black darkness.

Connor had been to this Walmart before the apocalypse happened, and he knew the layout well. The grocery section of the store was to his right, and he figured he could find what he needed there. Reaching quietly into his bag, he pulled out a handful of long, thin pieces of plastic, and then slung the backpack onto his back.

Sword in hand, he turned right and started to walk slowly through the darkness. From what he had seen at the Chemcorp complex, the ZOMBIE OFF protected you, even if you came in contact with the undead. As he moved forward, he was banking on it. Slowly, carefully, he continued on through the inky blackness. He could hear the sounds of footsteps as he walked slowly along, but he couldn’t see a thing.

The more time he spent in the dark, the more focused his hearing became. In his days working outside, Connor had needed to pace off distances by walking. Counting his steps, he was able to estimate approximately where he was within the store. He figured he’d walked about 50 feet when he heard footsteps getting closer.

Quickly he stopped as the sickening sound grew louder in front of him. Gripping the sword tightly, he held his ground as the staggering zombie approached, the foul stench of its rotting flesh getting stronger by the second. Moments later, he felt the zombie’s body as it bumped into him, pushing him to the side. Remaining frozen, he held his breath as the creature continued on, it’s footsteps slowly fading behind him.

Numerous times he came in contact with the undead as he made his slow walk across the store. Each time he held his ground, and each time the undead moved on, oblivious to the human in their presence. After four or five minutes of walking, he estimated that he was at the grocery section. This was where things got tricky.

Connor knew approximately where the items he wanted were located, but in the pitch black, he couldn’t easily find them. He’d need the light, and that would attract zombies. Unless, of course, they were distracted by something else.

Removing his backpack, he reached in and pulled out the last item he had inside. In his hand he held a small, square travel alarm, about the size of a small cell phone. Quietly he popped it open. The design was such that it opened like a clam, with the display screen flipping out to hold the top lid open. If you pressed on it when it was like this, the small screen lit up with a dim backlight.

Huddling down near the floor, Connor shielded the alarm and pressed it for light. Quickly he set the alarm for 5 minutes from his current time, and then moved into position. Feeling his way along, he backtracked two isles and waited, counting off in his head. When he reached three and a half minutes, he knelt down and shoved the alarm down the isle as hard as he could.

The scraping of plastic on tile broke the silence as the alarm slid away. Within seconds he could hear movement as those zombies close enough to hear turned to investigate.

Calmly he waited, until finally the beeping of the alarm broke the quiet. Without hesitation, Connor took the handful of plastic and bent it in an arc. Instantly the glow necklaces came to life, their neon colors illuminating the darkness. Quickly he tossed the glowing plastic down the aisle in the direction of the alarm, the soft glow instantly visible in the distance.

Moving slowly away, Connor headed for the grocery isles as the sound of undead footsteps echoed around him. He knew the zombies couldn’t see either, but the sound of the alarm and glow from the glow sticks would definitely keep them moving in that direction for awhile.

Reaching the grocery section, he counted off another two minutes in his head as he made his way to the far wall of the store. When he finished counting, he covered the end of his flashlight with his fingers, turned it on, and quickly moved down the aisle in search of the items.

First on his list were batteries, and he quickly located a vertical display at the end of one of the isles. Grabbing every pack, he shoved them quickly into his pack and continued on. A few isles down he found canned vegetables and quickly grabbed eight cans and placed them in the pack. Reaching the bottled water, he loaded up as much as would fit in the bag.

With the backpack full, he turned and headed back the way he came. To his right he could hear the sounds of items falling from shelves as the zombies ran into things in an effort to reach the noise.

As he headed down the end isle, he suddenly saw a shadowy form stagger around the corner ahead of him. Seeing the light, the zombie let out a moan and moved quickly forward. Connor didn’t have the time to play hide and seek with this one, so he simply waited. When the zombie closed to within five feet, his blade shot out, driving through the creatures chin and out the top of its skull.

Pulling the blade free, he quickly continued on. Reaching the end of the aisle, he turned right just as the alarm met its end. One of the many undead had finally found it. He had little time to waste if he was to make his escape. Quickly, he doused the light.

With the full load in his backpack, he knew that anything short of a very slow walk would make enough noise to draw the undead. Positioning himself next to the wall, he began the slow walk back to the storeroom doors, counting his paces as he went. Off to his right he could still see the soft light from the neon glow necklaces. As he passed the isle, he could see the shadowy forms of dozens of undead as they hovered around the area in search of food.

The moans of the zombies now made it more difficult to determine if there were any zombies nearby, and this was where things went wrong. As Connor moved slowly along the wall, he ran into another zombie, causing him to hit the shelves on his left. The cans in the pack rattled loudly, and the zombie responded.

In an instant Connor reacted. Shoving the zombie away, he turned on the flashlight, illuminating the horror in front of him. The swords blade flashed through the beam and the zombies head dropped to the floor with a thud.

In a flash he was on the move, running down the end isle, his flashlight lighting the way. Fortunately, almost all of the zombies in this area had been drawn to the sound of the alarm, leaving the isle relatively clear. But a few still remained, and they stood between him and the exit.

Three times a zombie reached for him. Three times the headless body dropped to the floor. As the last zombie fell, he saw the storeroom door a few feet beyond. Adrenaline pumping, he dashed through the swinging doors and on to the stairs. Closing the stairwell door behind him, he raced up the stairs and onto the roof. Closing the rooftop door, he turned off the flashlight and shoved it in his pocket. Reaching down, he grabbed his sheath and slid the sword back into it as he headed for the ladders.

A few minutes later, he slowly rounded the corner and headed for his motorcycle. By now, the zombies in this area had lost interest and had wandered away, leaving the area around his bike clear. Transferring the contents of his backpack into the luggage, he quickly donned his riding gear and headed for home.

As he listened to the rumble of the bike, he thought about the store and what happened inside. His first field test of the ZOMBIE OFF was, for the most part, a complete success. Sure, there were a few glitches, but that was to be expected. As the bike sped down the highway, Connor couldn’t help but smile.

“Yep, this changes everything,” he said to himself.

Riding his bicycle along the Schuylkill River, Connor smiled fondly as he remembered that first ZOMBIE OFF test. It seemed like a long time ago, but in reality it had only been a month. But in that month Connor had made the most of every can he acquired, completing over 20 missions throughout his safe zone, all of them alone.

Now he headed off to Chemcorp yet again, as his supply of ZOMBIE OFF was almost out. As much as he loved the product, he despised the man who invented it. From the moment Abe Morrow opened his mouth, Connor didn’t like him. He seemed like a bad combination of car salesman and sleazy politician. The fact that all Morrow cared about was gold and power made it even worse.

The world was controlled by the undead, and Morrow had a product that could help humanity take it back. Did he share it with the world? No. Did he distribute it freely to help mankind? No. Abe Morrow was a greedy son-of-a-bitch, and that’s all there was to it. He had everyone wrapped around his finger, because he had the ZOMBIE OFF.

Pedaling quietly along, Connor enjoyed the cool breeze as it blew across the water. He could have taken his motorcycle to the Chemcorp facility, but it was a beautiful spring day and he could use the exercise. He enjoyed riding his bicycle whenever possible, especially along the Schuylkill River trail. There weren’t a lot of zombies along the closer parts of the trail anymore, as the majority had been eliminated not long after ZOMBIE OFF was introduced. Although most used the product for supply runs, a few used it for quality time outside of the walls. Nothing spoiled a good walk like a horde of zombies, so a few had sprayed themselves down and set about clearing the nearby trail. Right now, Connor was glad they did.

Although most of the zombies were cleared, a few occasionally wandered onto the path, and three of them now blocked the trail ahead of him. Stopping the bike, he calmly dismounted and lowered the kickstand.

By now the undead were aware of him and were staggering quickly in his direction. They were still a good 100 feet away, giving Connor plenty of time to prepare, not that he really needed to. There were only three of them, and he was armed with his katana. Unsheathing the long, gleaming sword, he stood in the center of the path and waited.

“Come to papa, you undead bastards,” he muttered.

As the first of the undead reached him, he calmly took its head off and waited for the other two. As they closed to within 10 feet, Connor quickly sidestepped the one on the left, swinging his sword and removing the top of its skull. In one fluid motion, he spun and drove the blade through the mouth of the third, leaving two thirds of the sword protruding out of the back of its skull. Pulling the blade free, the last zombie fell to the ground.

After cleaning his blade, Connor pulled the corpses off of the trail and continued on his way. He had to dispatch another ten zombies over the remaining five miles before he reached the Chemcorp gate, and now he sat and waited.

When he arrived, the guard immediately let him in. Connor was a regular customer, and they liked to keep the regulars happy. Offering him a cold beer from a cooler, the guard took Connor’s gold and told him to wait at the gatehouse. He may not like the Chemcorp group, but he did enjoy a cold beer when he dealt with them. It was the only part of doing business with them that he enjoyed.

As Connor sat waiting, he pondered how much ZOMBIE OFF he’d get for the gold he brought. He didn’t have a lot this time, so he knew he might not get much in return. After a few minutes, the guard returned, carrying a single, neon green can in his hand.

“Shit,” muttered Connor as the man approached.

Taking the can, he threw it into his backpack and headed for home. As he pedaled along, his concerns grew.

“One can. One stinking can.”

Shaking his head, he continued on, considering the implications.

“I just have to make it last,” he said out loud.

He had accepted three missions over the last few days, and he never backed out on an agreement. The first two missions were no big deal. He’d be able to complete them with no problem using the ZOMBIE OFF. But the third . . . That one was different. He questioned why he even accepted the mission, but he already knew the answer. It struck close to home with him, so when the guy had asked for his help, he just couldn’t refuse.

The man couldn’t even pay Connor, instead placing himself in his debt should he complete the mission successfully. Connor normally requested gold as payment, allowing him to acquire additional ZOMBIE OFF after each successful run. But this time he made an exception, and he didn’t regret it. Not because of the terms of the agreement, but because it was the right thing to do.

Riding on, he continued to contemplate the third mission.

“It’s going to make Walmart look like a stroll in the safe zone,” he said to himself.

As the bicycle glided along the trail, he felt a slight knot in his stomach.

“What the hell have I gotten myself into,” he whispered.

THE END . . . for now

About the Author

Scott Lee is a 1986 graduate of Slippery Rock University with a BA in Anthropology. He's a professional archaeologist who's hobbies include drumming, motorcycle riding, ATV's, hiking, and disc golf. He is a huge fan of the Walking Dead and loves to read zombie novels while preparing for the impending zombie apocalypse.

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Table of Contents

Zombie Off - The Beginning

Introduction

Midpoint