George Washington Zombie Slayer (25 page)

It was a
journey of about 150 miles which was made in a few short days. Washington and the messenger arrived at the isolated, creek side spot just after sunset, finding a single torch lit on the ground near the center of the arch. The messenger boy remained in place as Washington rode up to the torch. He dismounted his horse when he saw something on the ground reflecting in the torchlight.

Bending over and picking it up, Washington saw that it was one of his wife’s bracelets, intended as proof the kidnappers still held her. In the distance, beyond the arch, Washington could see a single man several yards away sitting upon a horse. The man was wearing a dark blue coat and wore a blue hood with the lower half of his face wrapped as well, concealing his identity.

“I trust you now believe we have taken Mrs. Washington?” the hooded man asked.

“I do,
” Washington replied. “Now, I don’t know who you are. I don’t know what you want. But I do know I have a very special set of skills that make me a nightmare for people like you. “

The man in the blue hood remained silent.

“If you give me back Mrs. Washington now, that will be the end of it,” George Washington said as he felt his anger rising.  “I will not look for you and I will not pursue you. But if you don’t, I will look for you, I will find you…and I will fuck you up!”

There was a long pause before the man replied: “Good luck.”

In that moment, George Washington resolved that, if it took the rest of his life, this man would die.

“As for what we want,” the hooded man explained,
“we propose a simple surrender and prisoner exchange. You will proceed to Yorktown and order your Continental Army to lay down its arms and surrender. Then you shall present yourself as prisoner to General Cornwallis by our appointed day and hour. After which, your wife shall be released, and you will be tried as a traitor, found guilty, and executed.”

“I’m supposed to just surrender the entire Continental Army?” Washington asked. “You want me to betray my own country, my soldiers, and my oath?”

“Surrendering your army is no betrayal!” the hooded man shot back angrily. “The true betrayal was in opposing the British and in violating your oath of loyalty to the king!”

“I do not agree,” Washington replied.

“And you don’t have to agree,” the hooded man replied. “You will simply surrender, or your wife will die. That is certain, unless you comply.  My only question to you is…do we have an agreement?”

“I shall return to the Continental Army,” Washington stated. “And then I shall present myself to General Cornwallis, personally.”

“Good,” the hooded man said. “I shall inform General Cornwallis. There will be a message sent to your army regarding the date and time of your surrender.”

“And after that,” Washington said glaring at the masked man. “You and I will have a score to settle.”

“I look forward to that, General,” the hooded man laughed, before riding off into the darkness.

Chapter 65

George W
ashington’s Final Plan to Win the War

Now was the time of the true testing of George Washington as a General, and as a man.
To save his wife, he was being forced to surrender the Continental Army to the British, which he knew he could not do. But if he did not betray his own army, he would be sacrificing his own wife to traitorous execution, which he also could not allow. Ever the tactician, George Washington had now devised his boldest plan of action. It would take skill and timing and a little luck, but it just might work.

Taking a small lead pencil and a scrap of paper from his coat
at the Natural Bridge after the hooded man had departed, Washington scribbled a note, folded it carefully and handed it to the messenger boy.

“Fedex,” Washington asked sternly. “Can you take this back to Mount Vernon and give it to the slaves you saw me with when you arrived?”

“I can, General,” the young lad said, smiling proudly.

“You must make it there at any cost.” Washington implored. “The entire Revolution may hinge upon the plan of action contained herein.”

“Fedex will make a timely delivery,” the lad replied. “You may count on it, Sir.”

“Very well, then,” Washington said confidently. “Ride on!”

The young lad spurred his horse forward with a great yell and rode quickly off into the moonlit night.

Washington
mounted his own horse again and headed in the direction of Yorktown, Virginia. It was a journey of several days, nearly 170 miles, a trip made slower by near constant rain. But the clouds broke just as he arrived at Yorktown, and Washington arrived to find his army in hot pursuit of the British.

The English
were in a state of excited retreat and were being pressured mightily by the Continental Army. They fled into Yorktown as a last resort. Washington directed all columns to close in upon the city, which was heavily fortified and ringed by a series of trenches, redoubts and defensive earthworks. The advance of the army was slow, and was finally impeded just outside of Yorktown, where Washington’s troops began to dig trenches of their own.

The initial action of the Continental Army was g
oing to be a siege of Yorktown. In military terms, the city would be surrounded and enclosed, allowing no supplies or persons to enter or leave. American troops outside the city would spend each day digging and clawing into the earth, expanding their trenches, inching forward every day, closer and closer to the enemy lines.

Washington now commanded a total of nearly 20,000 troops in the field, nearly 10,000 regula
rs, 5,000 militia, and nearly 5,000 French soldiers as well. Though the French proved better at eating cheese than fighting in the field, they still brought bodies to the fight. In terms of fit-for-duty soldiers, Washington actually outnumbered the British, who were also noticing a distinct rise in the daily numbers of their own deserting soldiers. For the very first time, and at long last, things were finally looking bleak for the British.

Washington summoned his aide and former slave Reebock from the field, along with several of his generals. To the Generals, Washington explained his
upcoming plan of attack.

The plan was to have the
Continental troops dig closer and closer to the British lines and then have the Continental and French armies attack a single point together. It was a sound plan, and seemed to have a fair chance of success.

Washington knew this attack woul
d be one of the most difficult his army had ever attempted. Lacking an ample supply of zombies in the field, the British would primarily use living soldiers in this battle, heavily armed and fighting for their lives.  Redcoats in such a state would be very difficult to defeat. But Washington had a plan for this also.

After briefing his Generals on his
main plan of attack, Washington stood in his headquarters alone with his friend and ex-slave, Reebock. Washington explained his secondary plan to Reebock, who was less than enthused.

“So you have
just inspected the THREE wagons that arrived here by your request from Mount Vernon?” Reebock asked.

“That is correct,” Washington replied.

“And you want ME to take those wagons out tonight …where?” Reebock asked.

“Here,” Washington replied, pointing to the map on the table before them.
“Down the Old Mill Road.”

“But that’s right next to the British lines!” Reebock exclaimed.

“Right,” Washington said.

“We will almost certainly be captured!”  Reebock exclaimed.

“That’s the idea,” Washington stated. “I want you, and all the wagons, captured,” he added.

“Oh, MON!”
Reebok exclaimed in his deepest Jamaican accent, which still manifested itself when he grew excited. “I thought you were supposed to be some kinda great general? There GOTS to be some better plan than letting me and all the wagons get captured!”

“If you have a better plan,” Washington said, “I would love to hear it.

Reebock was silent.

“Dis’ is bullshit!” Reebock said at last.
“But if I’m ordered to go tomorrow, I guess I have to go.”

“No,” Washington said. “No,” he repeated. “This is NOT an order. This request is far above and beyond the call of duty.  And I shall not order you to do this.”

“I see,” said Reebock.

“I am asking you to do this,” George Washington said simply.

There was a long,
long pause.

“Oh, fuck me!” Reebock replied finally. “I’ll do it. If I gotta die, it might as well be like this!”

Washington shook Reebock’s hand and thanked him graciously.

“And what about you,
mon?” Reebock asked as he watched Washington change into his black ninja outfit once more. “Where are you going?”

“Me?” Washington said. “I’m going to go get my wife back from these
British cocksuckers!”

Chapter 66

Washington
Goes to Rescue His Wife

What had started out for George Washington as a marriage of convenience and economic opportunity had, over many years, grown into a union of genuine love and affection. He loved Martha Washington with all his heart, and he would ma
ke every effort to save his Snuggle- Muffin.

George
Washington was expected at the British Headquarters in Yorktown this evening to surrender his army, and himself, to that asshole Cornwallis. Washington planned to make his appearance, but in a very different way than Cornwallis might expect.

Washington spent
most of the morning scouting the British camp, their roads and bridges and fortifications, and observing the comings and goings of officers and soldiers. He quite rapidly identified a large stone clock tower near the center of Yorktown as just the type of phallic symbol that the insecure British General would choose as his own. The tower would also offer a good vantage point, as well as a secure location to hold a prisoner.

After sunset, George Washington began the difficult mission to rescue his wife. Pulling his ninja hood over his face,
Washington grabbed only his ninja sword, and the brown leather backpack that Benjamin Franklin had given him. It contained an invention that Washington thought might be of some use in his rescue operation.

T
he black-clad Washington approached and scaled the British perimeter fence and began his entry into Yorktown by diving into a small drainage creek, swimming past the British sentries along the shore, and into a drain pipe that led to the heart of Yorktown.

At several points, the British had placed one or two zombies to guard alleyways or doorways. These Washington dispatched with speed and silence
. Onward he moved, approaching the tower with stealth and concealment. Climbing the trellis of one building, he climbed to the roof of the structure, and then hopped from rooftop to rooftop until he finally stood atop the building right next to the base of the clock tower. It was almost 9 pm.

Washington now knew that his wife must be housed in the clock tower, for Cornw
allis had chained the last of his remaining zombies in leg irons at the base of the structure. There were perhaps a hundred of the snarling, flesh-eaters being used here to defend against approach. Such a deployment must certainly indicate something within that needed to be carefully guarded.

In the front of the British camp, the main gate
was thrown open and a detachment of Cornwallis’ personal guard stood waiting by torchlight for Washington to formally arrive, expecting his military and personal surrender. They stood, and waited.

Inside
the stone clock tower, the clock had struck nine, and Cornwallis paced nervously back and forth beside his desk while the blue hooded man sat stoically in the corner of the room.

“The hour is struck
,” Cornwallis said nervously while eating a jelly donut. “Do you suppose he’s not coming?”

“He said he would be here
,” the blue hooded man replied.

Cornwallis paced faster, and beads of sweat were noticeable on his forehead. Finally,
after finishing his donut, he sat down at his desk at quarter past nine.

“He doesn’t think I will kill her,” Cornwallis said. “He’s not coming.”

“He said he would be here,” the hooded man said. “He said he would…be here.”

The dawning realization hit
the blue hooded man like a ton of bricks and he looked upward instinctively and sprang to his feet. Washington had never stated he would surrender himself. He said only that he would “present himself.”

“What’s wrong?” the startled Cornwallis asked.

“Send British guards! Upstairs!” the blue hooded man shouted. “Quickly, before he escapes!”

“What do you mean?” Cornwallis asked.

“If my guess is right,” the hooded man said, “Washington is already atop the tower now, rescuing his wife!” He ran from the room and into the stairwell to make the long ascent to the top of the tower where Mrs. Washington was held.

“Kill her!” Cornwallis
shouted after the blue-hooded man. “And if George Washington is there, kill both of them!”

Several minutes earlier, Washington had thrown a rope from the rooftop where he stood up to the top of the tower next to him. With the rope secure, he gently swung
to the side of the tower and over the heads of the zombies below. He quickly began climbing up the side of the clock tower and, with his ninja skill and training, he was at the top in under a minute.

Washington stepped onto the balcony
at the top of the tower, looked into the room and saw his wife Martha chained helplessly in the center of the room. Around her stood four zombies chained at equidistant points, meant to deter anyone from approaching her. Although they could not reach her, the close proximity of these creatures had clearly frightened her.

Washington leapt into the room and stepped within striking distance of the first zombie. In his anger and urgency to rescue her, he did not even draw his sword. Punching the first zombie in its forehead, the incredible power of Washington’s blow shattered the creature’s skull. His next blow to the second zombie did the same, and the third zombie shared the same fate. The fo
urth hapless creature stood somewhat dazed at the General’s lightning speed. In a fluid motion, Washington grabbed the top and bottom of the zombie’s head with both hands and, twisting it clockwise, ripped the foul creatures head from its shoulders!

“Georgie
!” exclaimed Martha upon seeing her husband. “I knew you would come!”

Washington kissed her and quickly removed the chains from her wrists. She hugged him
the moment her hands were free. “They will try to stop us,” Washington said to his wife. “We must hurry!”

George
grabbed the corpses of the zombies he had just slain and dragged their bodies to the locked door and piled them there. Within seconds, George and Martha could hear pounding on the door as the British tried to force their way inside the newly blocked entrance.

Washington pulled his wife to the balcony outside and opened the brown leather backpack that Benjamin Franklin had given him at their last meeting.

“Howsoever shall we escape?” Martha Washington said breathlessly as she looked down over the balcony to see the mass of zombies standing at the bottom of the tower. The door to the room was almost smashed in, and the British soldiers would enter at any moment!

Washington pulled a handle inside the backpack and the spring loaded mechanisms of the device sprang to life. The leather backpack seemed to stretch and unfold itself as the cogs a
nd wheels of the invention clacked and whirred into their assigned positions. In a few seconds, a device shaped like a giant leather bat wing stood propped on the balcony.