Read Online The Last Town (Book 1): Rise of the Dead by Stephen Knight - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Stephen Knight
Tags: Zombies
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apartment out of college.
“Hi, sir. I’m Captain Bobby Narvaez, Alpha Company, First Battalion, One Eighty-Fourth Infantry Regiment. Are you Officer Reese?” the soldier asked. He was a fit-looking white guy in his late thirties, and he wore a pair of some of the most god-awful eyeglasses Reese had ever seen.
“I’m Detective Three Reese, Los Angeles Police Department. Hollywood Station homicide desk,” Reese said, admitting to himself that his response wasn’t nearly as impressive as Narvaez’s introduction.
Narvaez extended his hand, and Reese shook it. The soldier’s grip was strong as he pumped Reese’s arm three times.
“Good to meetcha, Detective. In about three hours, we’ll have around ninety troops on station. Will you guys have room for all of us?”
Reese wasn’t expecting that. “Uh, I don’t know. That wasn’t already arranged?”
“Only a platoon was supposed to arrive, but we got new orders to field the entire company,” Narvaez said. “Not from nothing, but if we know where our home turf is, the easier things will be.”
“I’ll find out about that,” Reese said, having to shout as the second Black Hawk came in to land. As it settled onto the parking lot, he saw two more helicopters flying toward the area. They were different birds, though, twin-rotored CH-47 Chinooks.
“Those are carrying our Humvees,” Narvaez said, following Reese’s gaze. “Two in each bird. The aviation guys used to sling ’em underneath, but it makes the Chinooks too slow. Turns out the special operations aviation guys load them inside, so we clipped the tactic from them.”
“Okay,” Reese said.
“You hear about New York?” Narvaez shouted as he watched the second Black Hawk disgorge more Guardsmen onto the concrete. One of his men waved them over, and the new arrivals hustled toward the group as the Black Hawk powered up and pulled out.
“What about it?”
“Lower Manhattan’s on fire,” he said. “Good-bye, Occupy Wall Street. They’re starting to move federal troops into the city now, because the NYPD and the Guard units down there can’t keep the stenches back.”
“Stenches?”
“Yeah, it’s what we call the zombies.”
Reese snorted. “Zombies, Captain? Really? You mean this just isn’t a bath salt epidemic?”
Narvaez looked at Reese with a frown. “Detective, are you plugged in to what’s happening in the rest of the world at all?”
“Hollywood’s my beat.”
Narvaez grunted. “Huh. Okay. Well anyway, Europe is about to tip over into the Dark Ages all over again. Russia’s pretty much gone—there’s a huge artillery fight going on outside of Moscow. Back east, there are substantial infestations of stenches now, in just about every metropolitan area, but New York City has it the worst in the nation. Two days ago, everything was under control, and the NYPD and New York Guard were exterminating the stenches wherever they found them. Then the balloon popped, and now there are thousands of them in the city. Maybe even hundreds of thousands, by now.”
“No shit,” Reese said, not particularly interested but keenly aware that the new information did nothing to diminish the sense of anxiety he felt. As a homicide detective, Reese had pretty much seen it all. In a city the size of Los Angeles, and a division as busy as Hollywood, he’d been exposed to a litany of heinous crimes, from gang killings that no one cared about to white-collar murder among the Hollywood elite which made the front pages. Solving homicides required attention to detail and a mastery of several disciplines, including investigatory and forensic. Zombies or “stenches” weren’t something Reese had any experience with.
Until that guy ate his baby ...
“Yeah, no shit,” Narvaez said. “Air travel in the east is shut down, there’s a ground stop at every airport. I would imagine that’s going to be nationwide in a couple of hours. Airplanes are probably the best way to spread infected
“Hi, sir. I’m Captain Bobby Narvaez, Alpha Company, First Battalion, One Eighty-Fourth Infantry Regiment. Are you Officer Reese?” the soldier asked. He was a fit-looking white guy in his late thirties, and he wore a pair of some of the most god-awful eyeglasses Reese had ever seen.
“I’m Detective Three Reese, Los Angeles Police Department. Hollywood Station homicide desk,” Reese said, admitting to himself that his response wasn’t nearly as impressive as Narvaez’s introduction.
Narvaez extended his hand, and Reese shook it. The soldier’s grip was strong as he pumped Reese’s arm three times.
“Good to meetcha, Detective. In about three hours, we’ll have around ninety troops on station. Will you guys have room for all of us?”
Reese wasn’t expecting that. “Uh, I don’t know. That wasn’t already arranged?”
“Only a platoon was supposed to arrive, but we got new orders to field the entire company,” Narvaez said. “Not from nothing, but if we know where our home turf is, the easier things will be.”
“I’ll find out about that,” Reese said, having to shout as the second Black Hawk came in to land. As it settled onto the parking lot, he saw two more helicopters flying toward the area. They were different birds, though, twin-rotored CH-47 Chinooks.
“Those are carrying our Humvees,” Narvaez said, following Reese’s gaze. “Two in each bird. The aviation guys used to sling ’em underneath, but it makes the Chinooks too slow. Turns out the special operations aviation guys load them inside, so we clipped the tactic from them.”
“Okay,” Reese said.
“You hear about New York?” Narvaez shouted as he watched the second Black Hawk disgorge more Guardsmen onto the concrete. One of his men waved them over, and the new arrivals hustled toward the group as the Black Hawk powered up and pulled out.
“What about it?”
“Lower Manhattan’s on fire,” he said. “Good-bye, Occupy Wall Street. They’re starting to move federal troops into the city now, because the NYPD and the Guard units down there can’t keep the stenches back.”
“Stenches?”
“Yeah, it’s what we call the zombies.”
Reese snorted. “Zombies, Captain? Really? You mean this just isn’t a bath salt epidemic?”
Narvaez looked at Reese with a frown. “Detective, are you plugged in to what’s happening in the rest of the world at all?”
“Hollywood’s my beat.”
Narvaez grunted. “Huh. Okay. Well anyway, Europe is about to tip over into the Dark Ages all over again. Russia’s pretty much gone—there’s a huge artillery fight going on outside of Moscow. Back east, there are substantial infestations of stenches now, in just about every metropolitan area, but New York City has it the worst in the nation. Two days ago, everything was under control, and the NYPD and New York Guard were exterminating the stenches wherever they found them. Then the balloon popped, and now there are thousands of them in the city. Maybe even hundreds of thousands, by now.”
“No shit,” Reese said, not particularly interested but keenly aware that the new information did nothing to diminish the sense of anxiety he felt. As a homicide detective, Reese had pretty much seen it all. In a city the size of Los Angeles, and a division as busy as Hollywood, he’d been exposed to a litany of heinous crimes, from gang killings that no one cared about to white-collar murder among the Hollywood elite which made the front pages. Solving homicides required attention to detail and a mastery of several disciplines, including investigatory and forensic. Zombies or “stenches” weren’t something Reese had any experience with.
Until that guy ate his baby ...
“Yeah, no shit,” Narvaez said. “Air travel in the east is shut down, there’s a ground stop at every airport. I would imagine that’s going to be nationwide in a couple of hours. Airplanes are probably the best way to spread infected
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