Laws of Abel: Chapter One

A novel about what remains of the US Armed Forces months after a zombie pandemic, as they return to Manhattan to create a large safe zone for survivors. A story with a large cast of protagonists.

General Jeremiah Hunt stared down from the helicopter into the bowels of Manhattan, or what remained of its vultured carcass from his helicopter vantage. ZEDs stumbled by the thousands through the rotting heart of New York City. Every now and again the collapsed, smoking and charred remains of buildings would swing into view, reminding Hunt of how long it had been. Seven months ago the pandemic had swept into a global apocalypse. Within a week the entire world became engulfed in a state of emergency. Inside a month global communication stopped and the United States Government ceased to exist. What remained of order here could only be found in the pockets of US Armed Forces spread across the country, protecting civilian populations as they could.

"ETA 5 minutes, General", the pilot called back.

A rooftop fire caught Hunt's eye, people huddling around a burn barrel in the crisp winter air. He saw children in their midst, tents set up across the roof-space. Temperatures continued to plummet as New York welcomed its first winter since the cataclysm. A bitter wind under heavy clouds hinted at the prospect of snow. Hunt’s thoughts as cold as the weather, he took note of how much worse things were about to get for these survivors before the recovery began. Recon estimated nearly 2 million remained on the island, living and undead. A headcount of the living impossible at this stage.

“What is the sitrep on Ellis Island, Captain.” Hunt’s voice, loud as it was over the chopper’s crescendo, carried both his exhaustion and ineffable authority mixed with the Cajun southern notes of his upbringing in the state of Lousiana.

“Forward ground control have secured a rooftop entry point and are proceeding towards the bottleneck.”

“Take the scenic route in, Captain. I want eyes on the target.”

“Yes, Sir.”

The Apache chopper shot across the Hudson River, swinging around Lady Liberty towards Ellis Island. Hunt took in the ground profile. Forklifts, buzzing around like hornets stacking munition piles whilst personnel finished fencing the Liberty Island’s perimeter. The strategic value of using the location as a munitions storage facility at this stage couldn’t be overestimated given its natural defences and harbour status. It also had the advantage of doubling as both a lighthouse and vantage point for south shoreline operations.

Ellis Island came into view, a seeming paradise against the backdrop of New York’s tattered skyline. Hunt caught the muzzle flash of forward operations on the ground moving into position. The helicopter held off half a click giving the General a full scope of the mission. He tuned in to the chatter on the ground.

“-schedule, but we’re seeing more ZEDs than anticipated. ETA 2 minutes.” Major Gallagher’s Brooklyn accent cut through the static amidst bursts of gunfire.

Hunt watched the Major’s team cross the island until it reached the bridge to Newark. The team began to lay explosives along the structure while holding off ZEDs from both sides. That’s when Hunt saw them. A group of survivors were fighting their way towards the bridge from the mainland, desperate to reach the protection of the military, no doubt.

“We have civilians incoming, the bridge is almost ready for detonation. Please advise, over.”

“This is General Hunt, carry out your orders, Major. We cannot compromise mission success for them.”

Seven long months had hardened Hunt and his troops. Gone were the days of niave humanitarian acts of heroism. The very survival of the human species stood on the brink of extinction at the eleventh hour.

He turned away as the explosion ripped the bridge to shreds, the team retreating back to forward command on the rooftop. Hunt looked back in time to see some of the survivors flinging themselves into the Hudson to escape the horde, swimming in vain against the winter currents of the Hudson, trying to reach the island.

“Have a naval patrol pick up the survivors in the water,” Hunt shouted to the pilot. If they were lucky, a patrol would reach them in time.

“Tango Four, we have warm bodies in the water east of Ellis Island. Catch and Contain. General, we have a greenlight to land.”

“Take us down, Captain.”

Operation Firewall had begun. 

Reviews

[Michael L]

This is excellent - love your writing style - dark and gritty. And how can I not like a story whose first sentence includes the words, "bowels", "vultured", and "carcass"!

The build-up here is great and I'd love to see how this continues. A part of me was sad to see General Hunt carry out the orders to destroy the bridge - but I couldn't help but wonder if he would regain a bit of his humanity later on? Still, very understandable considering the terrible things he must've seen and done over the last seven months.

[Wolf Beaumont]

Thank you so much for sharing your thoughts. I had a pretty bad day till I read this. I've been trying to write chapter 2 (which is much longer) for a few weeks and failing badly. Hopefully soon though.

Thank you!

[Michael L]

Sure, my pleasure! Definitely continue this one as I'd like to read on.