Alan Dale - Death Nation's Army 01 (14 page)

“
You’re going to do what? Are you insane! That’s the shit that created these things!”

“
Candice, the doses are so minimal in comparison,” Draco explained. “There will be no threat comparable, especially with what happened with Patient Zero.”

“
How can you be sure?”

Draco could be sure. A week earlier they injected the cocktail in small doses to four test NWO military grunts. All of them were sacrificed into the largest scrat horde located in Perth. They stayed amongst them for an hour and nothing happened. It was if they weren’t even there. For the next few days they tested again with the same results. It was believed the cocktail stayed within the system long enough to last a month, give or take.

“
I’m sure.”

“
Any other back up plans?”

“
Actually, yes.” Draco leaned back in his chair. “So let’s say they get out. Let’s say they get within a few miles of a Utopia. We will use the air propulsion machines to spray an aerosol form of the cocktail into the atmosphere to cover the Utopias perimeter. If they smell themselves they lose interest.”

“
I assume you tested this as well?”

Draco looked toward the ceiling, eyes closed. He visualized the feed of the six military men and women dropped into a scrat zone outside of Canberra, about 500 yards from a large horde. The aerosol was spray out and directly away from the personnel. The six began to march in the direction of the scrats, following the aerosol trajectory. It wasn’t until they were within a couple dozen yards where the scrats began to sense flesh. The six were immediately extracted with no room to spare.

“
We have.”

A sigh came over the speaker. “I don’t like this.”

“
You don’t have to,” Draco agreed. “But, let’s be honest this is the best way to keep the revolutionists busy and an even better way to take care of the rest of the people.”

Another sigh.

“
Do we know why this even happened?” The woman asked him, tone more resigned than challenging.

Draco t
hought long about the why. He asked himself plenty of times how this new menace came to be. But at some point it became more of a matter how to deal with the problem and worry about the cause later.

No one knew exactly what caused the creation of Patient Zero and the eventual spread. Of course theories were thrown from all directions with hopes something would stick.

Nothing ever plausible or concrete ever did.

“
No,” he told her. “But does it matter? It’s working out to our benefit. That’s all that matters.”

Another sigh. Draco could grow to like a woman who speaks little and sighs less.

“
This is going to work and work out fine,” Draco told her. “We have this under control. We have already seen states of decline in various scrats. If they don’t eat, they appear to deteriorate. We already see some having trouble to get around and slow. It appears they will eventually die.”

“
That would be nice.”

“
Yes, but…” Draco leaned forward and hovered over the telephone speaker. “Only after they pick all the food of the plate and lick to bowl to boot. We have enough of the cocktail to keep them at bay and once we need to, we will turn the military on them once they’re done. If they multiply we just hold the fort until the lower rank-and-file human numbers decrease exponentially and the scrats begin to die out.”

“
Then…” another drag. “We go in and take out the trash.” Candice whispered. Was she shocked or in awe or maybe a little of both.

“
Yes, Candice,” Draco affirmed. “Good girl.”

“
Fuck you, Fortellis,” and the line went dead.

The leader of the new world smiled and leaned back in his chair. He was completely honest with himself if not with anyone else. There was no doubt these scrats would leave the continent and spread their death and disease. He welcomed it. It was the ultimate double dip. Kill off the population while keeping a revolution at bay as their forces are tapped.

Not all flights would be shot down of course and some boats would go off unimpeded.

The New World Order was about to set course for a place it could call its own. Yes, it would include a wasteland of death and rot all around. But, in Draco’s mind that would be a bargain for having it all to themselves once the cleanup began and completed.

The Utopias would rise and the rest would fall.

All he needed was time…

Of course it wouldn’t take very long for the scrat presence to spread and almost immediately turn the world on its ear. Draco and rest of the Order watched from a far as they witnessed the systematic decline in numbers of the population outside of the Utopias.

Ironically, the poor nations tended to fight better than most of those previous higher on the food chain. The numbers of civil wars and street unrest managed to arm plenty of men, women, and children so they did do well to defend themselves against the undead. But, alas, the loss of ammunition could not be easily compensated for and soon the scrats plague would win out.

Like Norman Alexi
said, the NWO didn’t even have to pull the trigger themselves. They allowed an accident to eat the problem away instead.

First much of Asia fell and then the spread carried over to Europe, Africa, before finally seeing the Americas fall. A casual observer would say it wouldn’t make sense to see continents fall so fast especially from a half wor
ld away and with time to spare.

This was true if the leader of the entire planet screened all information from spreading outside the scrat walls. So many died because so many didn’t kn
ow what was about to bite them.

Draco continued to bet on his good fortune by having members of the NWO army corral numbers of scrats for a few secu
rity experiments of their own.

Having inoculated the Utopias’ residents and the cities themselves, the NWO tested the effectiveness by putting a small handful of scrats outside the walls of each city to see if they would come toward their domain. To the delight of the Order executives it wouldn’t be until the 23
^rd
or 24
^th
day when signs of the effectiveness of the aerosol deterrents and inoculations would begin to wane. So each resident and military personnel were to be given a small shot every three weeks and the aerosol, it was decided, could be better put to use by spraying a small mist on a daily basis as a failsafe. For those first few months, the only scrat put down within a relatively close distance to any given Utopia were the ones the NWO had placed there to test. Otherwise? All was well amongst the elite.

As far as the rest of the world, the scrat menace continued to take control. With the aid of the NWO taking other captured scrats within larger populated city limits, the spread was early perpetuated w
ith the help of the elite army.

Many Utopias held tight as large masses of displaced lower class persons tried to appeal to the glorious cities for help. Most were either gunned down or eating by trailing scrats. Eventually, with nowhere to turn for help outside of their own, the rest of the populace began to bunker down within various gated communities or high-rise buildings with the lower levels blocked off. Many urban settlements would stock up inside one selected building and either blow out the stairwells or block them off with mass amounts of f
urniture and hope to hold out.

At first many lives appeared to be spared as they made themselves unavailable for scrat consumption and they would soon be buoyed by the obvious bo
nus the world would soon learn:

Scrats don’t eat, scrats will die.

As the scrat population began to waste away, the hopes of the people rose and they hoped to just ride it out until the many hordes waiting for them on the other side would wither and fall away.

But, then of course, the NWO was also very aware of what was taking place as well.

Draco decided
a well-armed NWO army was choice.

Yet, a well fed scrat army was just as effective and cheaper to maintain.

Thus began the NWO feeding campaigns. Many of the hidden contingents were not easy to find until their moles within the revolution – now calling themselves the Dead Nations’ Army (DNA) – began reporting some of the safe havens’ locations after distress calls for food and water replenishment and artillery and arms restocking came over the Underwave. It was thought the DNA believed their secrets were being picked up on the encrypted shortwave broadcasts. If only they knew the truth.

So either by luck, their own eye, or the help of their inside men and women, the NWO began their worldwide purge of the thousands of bunkered in communities all over the planet. Their objective? Feed the scrats, keep them alive, and kill the revolution.

The last phase of the world’s evolution had been set into motion. Most experts believed it would take no more than two years to see a scrat populace completely overcome those living outside the Utopias. Yet, the DNA was underestimated and the war between scrats and humans was in its fourth year. Yet, the signs of the end turning the final corner appeared at the ready. The DNA’s weapons availability was relegated to using outdated artillery and any use of aircraft was essentially non-existent with the Order owning the skies.

Yet, the DNA had indeed done a solid job of setting up shops mostly in deserted prisons, thanks in part to their effectiveness of keeping inmates in. As their officials learned, it did a darn good job of keeping scrats out as well.

Their facilities were being used for weapon making and many farms would be created in small plots of lands inside the individual walls. Most materials shipped to the different communities were looted from old shopping centers, convenience stores, and strip malls untouched by NWO sweeps. When it all started, almost each state, republic, territory, across the world had at least two DNA stations set up. Those number were now dwindling due to attrition due to scrat an NWO engagements and natural causes.

Still, when the DNA engaged an NWO force in any battle it was usually a lopsided loss in the favor of the Order. Some wondered why the NWO didn’t just march in and destroy the DNA outposts one by one. Draco’s point of contention was not to deplete his own forces when he had another one working for them for free. On top of that, Draco always preferred to have most of his army intact, because, quite frankly, you just never knew what could happen next.

He was
right.

Feed me…

I am feeling something. But how can I feel, I am dead, but not dead, to be called dead, right?

How can I feel? Should I feel, what do I feel?

Feed me…

I feel the need to eat. I need to eat you. Or is it ‘I’ that needs to eat you or is it more? Is it more than I; is our passenger what carries the hunger and our vessels that deliver the meals? Is it something to enjoy when I insert a part of your arms, legs, face, chest, torso, neck, into my mouth and chew as the blood dribbles down my lips, over my teeth, and down my throat. I don’t sigh in ecstasy. I don’t even taste.

None of us taste any of you and yet we still crave every single inch of every single other one that is warm of the flesh.

Or can we taste you? We forget sometimes…

We want to devour you and we still don’t know why.

But ‘it’ knows. It has to know. If ‘it’ does not know, how do any of those damned warm, living ones, know? Do any of them know what this really means?

I have been with this since the beginning and have eaten without tasting many of the flesh. Some have even risen from my assault to later walk beside me and dine along with me as we took your wonderful tongue out of your lovely head.

And ate…

Things are changing. I don’t, we don’t and none of you know why either. If you think you know it will just mean you know even less.

Feed me…

Before it’s too late.

Sadly, it may already be.

It’s time to eat again.

I am being called to play cordial host and feed my guest. I didn’t want this to happen but it is and I must adhere to the new way of our world and the natural course this new player is destined to take.

The world’s a stage and that stage comes in the form of a menu.

We won’t even need our order taken and we will simply eat the entrees, the appetizers, and the rest.

You are what we seek without any more than one simple reason:

We need you, need to devour you, and keep ourselves full.

Sounds so much like my life when I was warm. Then we didn’t use our teeth.

Now? Now, we do…

I’m coming…

Bridjett Alexi joined the DNA, first known as the Unified Nations Army, only months after last seeing Shad. She was so prepared to fight an enemy she could see, predict, and understand.