Zombie Dawn Exodus Read online




  ZOMBIE DAWN EXODUS

  by

  Michael G. Thomas & Nick S. Thomas

  SMASHWORDS EDITION

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  PUBLISHED BY:

  Swordworks Books

  Zombie Dawn Exodus

  Copyright © 2010 by Michael G. Thomas & Nick S. Thomas

  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  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 person you share it with. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author's work.

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  CONTENTS

  cHAPTER ONE

  cHAPTER two

  cHAPTER three

  cHAPTER four

  cHAPTER five

  cHAPTER six

  cHAPTER seven

  cHAPTER eight

  cHAPTER nine

  cHAPTER ten

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  * * * * *

  CHAPTER ONE

  RESEARCH VESSEL MOREAU, NORTHERN PACIFIC OCEAN

  The RV Moreau was a Thomas G. Thompson-class research vessel that had originally been built for use by the US Navy. In the last six years she had been bought by the company for use as an off-shore research vessel as part of its wider activities. At nearly a hundred metres she was a substantial vessel and currently carried a crew, research staff and security detachment of sixty four people. She was equipped with two rigid-hull inflatable rescue/work boats onboard, as well as a single submersible and a retrofitted helipad. Built into the hull were ROV and submersible hangars, a fully equipped machine shop and a custom built medical lab and clinic.

  Deep inside the vessel a team of scientists were busy studying the details of a new subject on their computer terminals. The computer monitors showed a detailed schematic of an ocean liner. The first screen showed a side on view that displayed the ship’s profile, whilst the screens either side showed figures on estimated size, displacement and course information. Another monitor gave a heavily magnified live feed of the vessel in the currently calm waters of the North Pacific Ocean.

  Daniels, one of the technicians, ran through various databases to check the configuration against all known vessels.

  “Yeah, here she is,” he said as he popped up the ship’s details on another screen.

  Clarkson, another technician sat in his rotating chair as he read the specification out to the annoyance of some of the other staff in the room.

  “She’s a Cunard Line ocean liner, the RMS Mauretania 2. She’s nearly four hundred metres long and has a combined crew and passenger capacity of just under five thousand people. According to the last information available she was on a world cruise thirteen months ago. Two months after Z-Day there is information from the coast guard that she was spotted off Hawaii, nothing since,” said Clarkson.

  Dr Garcia entered the room and moved straight up to the main screen.

  “The Mauretania? Interesting,” she said quietly to herself.

  She hit a few keys, bringing up detailed schematics of parts of the ship before turning to the two technicians.

  “I wonder what’s she doing out here. Is there any information on her from the rest of the flotilla?” she asked.

  Clarkson shrugged and then turned back to his display. Daniels however had already connected to the flotilla.

  “Nothing from them either. I have them checking the satellite data they downloaded last week. Maybe they’ll find something there,” he answered.

  “Have you picked up any communication or signal from her yet?” she continued, speaking directly to Daniels who seemed the more competent of the two.

  Daniels double checked his system before turning round, “No, nothing. No sign of communication, power or movement. She’s dead in the water.”

  “Hold on, look at this!” said Clarkson.

  “What do you have?” replied an intrigued Dr Garcia.

  “Well, if we zoom in here it looks like there are burn marks and damage in these places. They look like the observation decks near the dining areas.”

  On the screen to his right the schematics popped up showing the crew and passenger areas of the massive liner. Clarkson certainly seemed to be correct as the external damage appeared to be related to the most used and populated parts of the ship.

  “Also, look here,” he said as he pressed the mouse button.

  The three dimensional model rotated around to show the upper decks of the ship. There should have been banks of boats lined up but instead at least half of the boats were missing. Of the boats that remained some of them were hanging at odd angles, as though people were halfway through using them when they were stopped. There were also at least three boats hanging from the cranes that would have lowered them into the water in an emergency.

  Dr Garcia examined the screens in details, concentrating on the boats in particular.

  “So, something made them abandon ship. I think we can all guess what that might have been,” she said in a humourless tone.

  “The next questions are when did this happen and where are the people that escaped?” she asked rhetorically.

  A low buzz echoed across the room as the ship’s public address system activated.

  “Dr Garcia, please report to the briefing room,” came the message.

  With a shake of her head the doctor hit a few keys, sending a job to the printers nearby. She stood up and collected the paperwork as she headed for the door. Just a few feet before leaving the room she turned back and called over to the technicians.

  “We need more information on her. Send me a message when the drone is over the ship. I need data and the direct video feed for the meeting ASAP. Got it?” she asked in a firm tone.

  “Yes, Ma’am,” came the reply.

  Dr Garcia left the room and headed along the short corridor that led to the command part of the ship. Since being taken on by the company it had been expanded and improved to offer greater space for personnel and computer equipment at the expense of the cranes and normal heavy equipment. A man in combat fatigues and carrying an automatic carbine followed her at a short distance.

  Dr Garcia approached the door to the briefing room, the heavy metal door was flanked by two men in suits, each was visibly armed with Heckler & Koch MP7 submachine guns. As she reached the men the one to the right whispered into his intercom and then pushed the door open. He nodded at her as she entered the room and shut it behind her with an audible clunk. In front of her was a large oval table that seated a dozen people from a variety of backgrounds. At the head of the table was the director and now leader of what was left of the research compan
y, Mr Morton. He smiled as he watched her entrance.

  “Ah, welcome, Dr Garcia,” he turned to the rest of the room, “as you know, Dr Garcia is head of our research and development operations within the flotilla and one of the founding members of the Hawaii Sanctuary due to her...”

  Dr Garcia gave him an odd look as he continued.

  “...rather specialist knowledge,” he added in a cautious tone.

  She took her place at the table and glanced around at the others who were there. Of the dozen people she noted they were the usual heads of departments, but there were a few new faces. Opposite her was Captain Mathius, the vessel’s chief of security. He always wore combat fatigues and was never seen without at least a pistol on his side. Sitting next to him were two people she didn’t recognise.

  “I have important information on the new vessel we’ve been tracking,” she started but was immediately interrupted by Mr Morton.

  “Please, we’ll get on to that important concern shortly. First of all I have a few company announcements to make.”

  Mr Morton stood up and walked to the banks of displays at the end of the room.

  “As most of you know, we have been tracking several vessels over the last few weeks. Dr Garcia has some important news on our latest find. We’ll get to that in just a moment. Before I start I would like to welcome our two newest members, Dr Willis and Ms Price, both experts in genetics, who arrived yesterday,” he said.

  The two stood up, looking to the group and then to Mr Morton.

  “Thank you, Mr Morton. On behalf of the Biotech ST Corporation, we appreciate your swift actions in the last week to extract our personnel from our laboratory,” spoke Dr Willis.

  They sat down, with Ms Price being surprisingly silent, Mr Morton continued.

  “As you know, since the outbreak we have travelled along the Canadian and US coasts picking up specialists and experts wherever we can to add to the growing flotilla. Last week Captain Mathius led a unit to the BSTC research station off the coast of Northern California,” he said as he pressed a number of buttons on a remote control.

  A map of North America popped up showing the landmass details in a series of colours from white to purple. Mr Morton moved closer to the screen, pointing at the coast.

  “Most of you are aware of our current status in this disaster. For those of you that have only recently joined us this briefing will update you on what we know so far, and also on our strategy for the future.”

  The screen at the end of the room filled with a set of charts showing populations, casualty and infection figures. Mr Morton continued.

  “We now have enough information to start forming a realistic picture of what happened and what is happening in this pandemic. Casualty reports show that in the first six weeks the outbreak took all the inhabited areas of the West Coast,” he pointed at a band of purple, “only small groups survived in the more rural areas or held out in isolated areas.”

  The display zoomed in to the coastal region where most of the area showed in purple with a few red and lighter colours sprinkled about.

  “With the collapse of the national infrastructure, and the overrunning of all urban centres, we have been assessing data from those countries still able to communicate with us. The current estimate for this region is that there are about fifty thousand survivors left on the entire Western seaboard,” he said sternly.

  There was an audible gasp in the room. Mr Morton paused for a moment whilst the news sank in.

  “It gets worse though. Data from the rest of North America and throughout Europe and Asia shows us that the spread of the infection has been exponential. There are no known cities left inhabited on the planet and the average survival rate is roughly a tenth of one percent.”

  “So only one in a thousand has survived after just a year?” asked one of the men in a dark suit.

  “Correct,” answered Mr Morton.

  He pressed a few more buttons and the display zoomed in to the United Kingdom.

  “Of our three facilities in the UK, only one remains and that is based in the North Sea on Alpha Twelve platform. The first two were overrun in the first week with no survivors.”

  The map zoomed out to show the whole of the country.

  “From the last known satellite passes, and the contact that remains with parts of the country, we can ascertain that the survival rate is roughly half of that of the United States. We are putting this down to the reduced access to firearms and the high population density of the country. We are in contact with a small number of communities in these regions along the Welsh and Scottish borders.”

  Mr Morton zoomed the map out further to show a view of the entire globe. Most of it was marked in the purple colour that indicated maximum infection and minimal survival chances.

  “As you can see, the entire world is affected. Japan has suffered terrible losses, with most survivors taking refuge on the smaller islands or escaping in ships. Many of these are looking to join the Southern Pacific Flotilla that is assembling. The rest of Europe and Asia is in a similar situation. More importantly, things are not getting better.”

  There was almost complete silence in the room as the group digested what had been said.

  Captain Mathius signalled to Mr Morton before standing up.

  “The security situation has stabilised for us now that we have the resources of the Sanctuary. The flotilla currently includes over twenty vessels at any one time, with many more being escorted to Hawaii when time and resources allow it. As well as our current complement of research vessels and transports we have also been joined by the USS Harpers Ferry, an amphibious transport vessel that is equipped with a small complement of Marines on board, as well as helicopters and hovercraft. This vessel can provide critical aerial coverage as well as a significant amphibious landing capability. Captain Black is in charge of the Marine Unit.”

  Captain Mathius signalled to the young man who stood up quickly.

  “If you could explain the position of the military right now?” he asked.

  The young officer nodded in acknowledgment.

  “As you may be aware, most combat units were heavily engaged in operations in the first few weeks of the outbreak. With just a few exceptions these resulted in heavy casualties and the abandonment of most facilities. Warships lack either the personnel or supplies to stay operational and have been abandoned in port, apart from small numbers that are operating independently. We estimate that of the approximately two hundred and fifty ships, less than ten are active and each with reduced crews and capabilities. Food, fuel, people and ammunition are scarce and needed to keep communities alive,” he explained.

  “My unit was almost completely wiped out in Afghanistan at the start of this. Since then I have moved through four different combat zones and seen most of my men killed. The troops on board our ship are all that is left of these units. Twelve months ago I was a Sergeant, now I am a Captain. Our last orders were to provide assistance where we can and to help US citizens re-establish themselves as quickly as possible.”

  Dr Garcia spoke before anybody else could join in.

  “Captain Black, what is your ship’s status? Are you able to conduct operations?” she asked.

  Captain Black looked at her carefully, curious as to the question.

  “Our ship is in good condition and well run by the crew. We have a reduced Marine detachment of nearly one hundred men, all experienced, well equipped and armed. Ammunition supplies are good for now, though we always need to secure new sources of ammunition. We have two hovercraft and two helicopters onboard, though we use those sparingly as parts are a problem. We are able to conduct operations. Why? Did you have something in mind?” he asked.

  Dr Garcia smiled at the Marine before turning back to Mr Morton.

  “May I?” she asked.

  Mr Morton nodded and returned to his seat.

  “There are two pieces of urgent news to deal with. The first is that we have some results on the development of the ant
idote drugs. No, we don’t have a cure but we can hold off the effects for almost a week, providing the drug is taken daily,” she explained.

  “What is the other piece of news?” asked one of the scientists.

  “We have found a substantial vessel approximately an hour away from our current position,” she said.

  There was a sense of excitement in the room as each person looked around. Dr Garcia continued.

  She’s the Cunard Cruise Liner Mauretania 2. This ship has been out of contact for some time and finding her was quite a surprise. She’s dead in the water and it looks like she’s been abandoned, though that is unconfirmed. We have a UAV on its way and it should be providing data shortly. There’s a chance we might find survivors but an even greater chance that we can find fuel, supplies and possibly intelligence from her.

  “Ah, I see,” said Captain Black, finally understanding the reasoning behind her question.

  Mr Morton took his place at the head of the table as the rest turned their attention back to him.

  “So as you can see, the general situation is not good but we are making cautious strides in turning things around for those that are left. The Sanctuary is secure and the flotilla is making slow gains in people and supplies. After speaking with the newly formed council we are confident of a return to some form of normality in the next few years,” he said.

  “Normality? What do you mean?” asked Dr Willis.

  Well, it is our intention to continue looking for survivors and to start work on re-establishing compounds in secure areas over a period of time. The Sanctuary proved it can be done and we intend on recreating this success elsewhere.

  “How soon?” asked a sceptical Dr Willis.

  “Well, that depends on several key things. The first of these is how many people we can actually find and save. The more we find the quicker we can start. The second is how successful we are on setting up regions that are safe and secure.”