Chapter 42, Australia, land of the Z's?

Looking back at the sun, Karl cursed is luck; there was a solar flare that would last for at least 37 hours.  He was well within the 13 first but the flare was so strong that it prevented any communication.  His high-tech satellite phone was useless.  So was his gps ICE locator.  Raising himself to get in position, Karl almost fell from his high position.  His ankle made a sharp SNAP noise and he fell on the rock.  Waves of agonising pain rolled up his spine and flowed his brain.  Through the tears, he saw that he had dislocated his ankle.  Making a snap judgment, he grabbed the foot with both hands and gave a sharp thug.  The ankle went back in its socket and the pain subsided a little.

Taking a survey of the Zombies approach, he calculated that he had the time to dress his sprained ankle and did so as fast as he could.  Using small branches, he made an improvised splint binding his ankle with gauze from his emergency kit.  3 Tylenol and 3 Advil was all he could afford if he wanted to keep a clear head.  He stood back up and Went to the edge of the rock.  The first Z was just reaching the bottom of it, its ugly head turned toward Karl uttering this debeliting moan.

Down and fast went the spear, catching the undead just under the jaw.  It was not a killing blow but it forced the head on the side, exposing the eyes the soft tissue on the side of the head.  AS fast and as hard as he could, the man strucked again.  This time, the blade went straight in and killed the Z.  It was almost over right there as the weight of the corpse almost overthrew Karl to the ground and made him loose his grip on his weapon.  Only pure luck and fast reflexes kept the man on the ledge and desperation gave him the strength to keep his weapon.  

Taking a deep breath, Karl tried to keep the panic at bay.  If he panicked he knew he was dead.  So, he sat, took a comfortable position, one that would allow for maximum strike power while keeping him seated with his good leg giving him a solid anchor.  Looking toward the horizon, he saw that more of the beast's coming his way.  He knew that he would soon be in a world of pain and danger.

Sidney, Australia.

Roxane Michaud, a Canadian veteran of many missions in the Army had been sent to help with the Australian Search and Rescue team.  The fact that she was a Dark Blood Hunter had been kept a secret.  Though she was petite and looked sweet as an angel, she packed a mean left hook and could hold her liquor like no other.  At 27, she had seen more fighting than most and only the aware Zombies in her force had had more experience than her...they had the unfair advantage of being immortals.  So, when the call for an emergency extraction was made, she did not panic.  She kissed her boyfriend goodbye, wishing him luck in his surfing competition and went to gather her gear.  45 minutes later, she was attending a briefing that put a frown on her face.  

17 hours ago, Karl Main had gone trekking in the outback.  No problem there.  The problem was that his chosen destination and itinerary had put him near a swarm of almost 86 Z's.  That was Trouble.  With the solar flare, there was no way to find him using technology.  Thankfully, the satellites monitoring such swarm had detected a strong change in the swarm predicted trajectory and had warned the response team.  Using enhanced pictures, they had been able to spot the architect and his position.  Now, it was time for the S&R to go and save the man.

Captain Michaud took 5 minutes to choose her team; their mission was to rescue, not kill the Z's.  That would be left to another team.  So she chooses her best pilot, Mirage, an aborigine that could land a chopper on a dime during a force 5 gale.  She took the St-Arneaud tweens.  Both sharp shooters and quite gifted with a Gatling gun.  Finally, she took Sam Berger, French descendent who could go down and up a rope faster than anyone alive.  They took some first aid material and on an afterthought, Michaud added a set of incendiary grenades.  Just in case they could "mark the spot" the S&D team.

Within 80 minutes of receiving the call, the chopper was in the air flying in direction of the possible location of the man. If they did not find him before night fall or if the swarm made any student change in direction, they would return to base assuming the man lost and dead...or worst, undead.

The first hour of flight was uneventful.  The weather was clear and they had good visibility. Then, they received a call from base: the man was alive and fighting on some small rocks that put him just about over the zombies.  He was about to be surrounded.  The satellite showed that another swarm was converging on the first one bringing it to a total of 207 corpses.  One of the biggest in Australia.  Michaud swore under her breath.  They would see a lot more action than what she had planned for.  But their mission was clear: save the man not kill the corpses.  So they would save the man...she hoped.

Chapter 41: Survival

Karl knew he was in trouble.  It wasn’t the first time, but he had to admit that this time it was different.  The possibility of his death was more than real.  

Karl was an adventurer.  He enjoyed the great outdoors and he always had his pack and gears ready for whenever he needed a respite from the city.  When the stress, the pollution, the people was too much, he simply grabbed his things, got a bus ticket for the Outback and hiked for 2 or 3 days.  Being one of the most successful architect of Australia helped in allowing him to go out when the desire strucked.

This trip had started as any other.  On last Monday, he had grabbed his pack and left.  On the bus, he had kept an eye for the kangaroo’s.  Contrary to the popular beliefs, these beasts were far from the "cute" Skippy from the popular TV show.  They were wild animals and behaved like so.

Even though, it wasn’t them that had him worried.  Not even the Inland Taipan scared him for he knew how to avoid it and always had the most powerful antivenin available on the market in a specially designed wrist band he could activate with only his mouth if necessary.  The Tasmanian Tigre was almost instinct and avoided humans like a swarm of locust.  Nop.  What had him scrambling for his life was a pack of moaning, shambling and very hungry Zombies.  

Like every human...except probably a few crazy indigenes out there, he had heard of the monsters.  He had also heard how everything was done to protect the world’s population.  He never dreamed that he would meet one outside of their food source area; the city.  Here in the Australian outback, the possibility of meeting one such creature was so ponderous that he never even entertained it.

Let’s face it, thought the 33 year old architect, probable or not, you’re in deep shit this time buddy.  And how does one gets out of a dangerous situation?  He uses his head father, answered Karl.  His dad had been a great outdoor expert, guiding tourist who searched thrills and other endorphin situations.  He had retired five years ago but was still trekking for his pleasure.  He had thought everything he knew to his son who had inherited his passion for adventures and "interesting" situations.  

Keeping his pace steady, he looked behind him.  Yup, they were still coming after him.  Six of these beasts had found his "scent" and were tracking him with their distinctive walk.  They had no expression what so ever and only the constant moan following him allowed Karl to know they were still there.  Otherwise, he would never have known he had been marked to be eaten or worst, become one of them.

Karl was walking in the direction of a small rock formation that would allow for some high ground.  While walking ahead of them, he had picked a sturdy piece of wood that he had shaped in the form of a crude spear.  Using one of his spare knife blade and some paracord, he had attached the blade to the shaft and had tested it against bushes and the ground.  The blade was a bit chipped but the whole thing would withstand the ordeal that was coming up.

Securing up the 3 piece formation, he moved toward the southern side where it would make it impossible for his pursuer to climb after him.  There, he made as much noise as he could, baiting the monsters toward him.  It worked.  The Zombies were fast approaching his position and would be in range not long afterward.  Holding his makeshift weapon, he allowed his mind to wander to another of his father’s lesson.

Karl was 12 years old and he was hunting with his dad.  They had crafted spears from wood, sharp obsidian rock and used their shoe laces to secure the weapon.  Then, they had practiced thrusts, slashes and hoe to use the shaft as both a weapon and a shield.  He has also explained how, whenever possible, using high ground or bushes when hunting or running from predators would allow of either complete protection or at the very least, cover from one side from attacks.  It was solid theory but with the living dead’s there was one factor that his dad could never have anticipated: these predators never got tired.  As long as Karl was there, they would try to get at him.  

Sitting there, he looked at what he was facing: 6 undead who were determined to make him their lunch, him with his gear, most of it useless against undeads, and his spear that would have to hold against God only knew how many thrusts until all of them were actually dead.  Well, sitting there would accomplish nothing.  Hefting his spears, Karl took one last steadying breath and prepares himself to kill...

ZNN Breaking news!!!

In an unprecedented turn of event and after months of research, a Belgian scientist has made a most needed breakthrough.  Francesca DeLamare, biologist has documented how the virus actually progress in the human host and how it corrupts the cells.  

Using volunteers who were already infected in a most secure facility, and never more than one infected at the time, Dr DeLamare and her team were able to observe in real time the way a human host becomes a Zombie.  As soon as the "Turning" was finished, the infected was disposed of with a bullet through the brain and the body cremated.  

- We have been able to understand the process through which a human becomes a Zombie.  It is amazing how tis virus not only resists to every drug we used.  It is even immune to radioactivity at least at the levels where it is still safe to use on a living human.  At higher level, the virus dies as does the host.  

The virus starts by invading every organs of the human body.  Strangely, the brain is the last organ to be corrupted.  Once the virus is entrenched in a host, it starts to mutate the whole body.  First, it kills the nerves, rendering the body unresponsive to pain signals.  Once it has complete control of the nervous system, it moves through the blood stream to mutate the other organs.  This process creates intense fever and hallucinations.  

The way it works is that every organ is separated from the body and the blood flowing to it is stopped.  The brain becomes self-sufficient.  Higher functions are destroyed and only the most basic functions are kept.  The brain is then a separated organ that is both self-sufficient and deadly.  The only goal is reproduction.  But not reproduction as we see it.  We are taking about a virus here, not a sentient being.  The means it uses to reproduce are the most basic of functions.  

1- It finds a prey using every sense.  Smell being the most efficient for it.  

2- By signalling to other infected where to find food.

3- By biting a possible host and transferring a portion of itself to the new host.

I am fully aware that the way the virus behaves is more akin to a parasite than a virus in the traditional sense of the definition thus we repeated this experiment 1000 time.  We had the exact same result each time.  The main difference is in the time it takes for the virus to finish transforming the host in a full fledge zombie.  The shortest time was 3 hours while the longest and most painful was 24 hours.  

There is still no cure for this virus.  It is 100% contagious and no one is immune to it.  We are still trying to find a vaccine.  A cure is still far out of our goals.  This virus mutates with every drugs or treatment we try making it the most deadly strain of virus ever.  Compared to it, the Ebola virus looks like a bad flue.

We thank you for your time.  For now, keep observing the official directives from your government and local law enforcement forces.  Remember, a dead hero becomes a living zombie.