Free Plague Town by Dana Fredsti

buzzard, even if he did have what it took to make it through the demanding Zed Tactical Force selection process.
    Their commander, Lt. Kaplan held up a hand.
    “Get the wax out of your ears, private. All of you, listen.”
    All eight men in the squad obeyed their leader’s command, freezing in place, ears cocked toward the building.
    Gentry’s scrotum tightened as if squeezed by an icy fist as the first moans reached his ears, the sound muffled by wood and glass, but still ball-shriveling no matter how many times he’d heard it before. It was even worse for the three men new to the ZTF.
    Knowles looked like he was going to puke.
    “This building has been compromised,” Kaplan snapped. “Gentry, Jenkins, Knowles, stack on Private Atherton. The remaining—” He stopped as a wet cough rattled in his throat. He’d been fighting a bug for a few days, and it sounded like the flu was winning. This Walker’s shit was nasty.
    As if on cue Pvt. Atherton doubled over with a racking cough of his own.
    Looks like the flu shots they gave us weren’t worth shit.
    Lt. Kaplan coughed one more time, spat a wad of phlegm onto the ground and finished.
    “The remaining Alpha team secure the grounds and keep an eye out for hostiles exiting the building or approaching from the woods.” As the four soldiers lined up against the wall by the door, Kaplan added, “Remember, use speed, surprise and violence of action.”
    Atherton kicked the door in. Gentry heard something fall as he dashed inside and peeled to the left while Jenkins went right. Knowles jinked off to the left a step or two away from the doorway and Atherton followed, still coughing.
    Gentry trained his M-4 on a male zombie that had been knocked down during their entrance, and yelled.
    “Zed identified!”
    “Fire!”
    “On the way!” Gentry put several shots into the zom’s head, then scanned for the next target. Half a dozen zombies lurched through the aisles of tourist souvenirs.
    “Jesus...” Knowles swallowed several times, probably trying not to lose his lunch. Gentry knew how he felt; he’d been there himself on his first mission.
    Shots rang out as the four men took out the enemy. The percussion of gunfire mixed with Atherton’s coughing.
    Gentry tapped him on the shoulder
    “You okay, man?”
    “Fine. Just need me some cough syrup or something.”
    Gentry caught a glimpse of very dark blood as Atherton wiped his mouth with the back of one hand. That did not look good. But before he could pursue the matter, fire lit up the back of his calf as something tore through his pants and into the flesh beneath.
    “Motherfucker ! ”
    Gentry looked down to see what was once a little boy in diapers and a Sponge Bob T-shirt chewing on his right leg. The sergeant immediately raised the stock of his M-4 and smashed it into the zombie toddler’s skull. Once, twice, three times, until it fell to the ground, a mouthful of flesh and camo fabric clenched between its teeth.
    “Motherfucker.” Gentry whispered it this time. He knew what a bite meant.
    No time to feel sorry for himself, though. More zeds were pouring out from the back of the shop, at least ten of them. He heard Knowles scream as he was borne to the ground, caught by surprise. Atherton moved in to help, but was incapacitated by another coughing fit. Three zombies swarmed him before he could recover.
    Gentry would take out as many zeds as he could before the virus took him. He hoped at least one of his teammates survived to do right by him.

CHAPTER NINE
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    “As I was saying,” Simone continued, moving past my taste in movies, “many of the outbreaks were easily brought under quarantine. Since this virus wasn’t airborne, pandemics were rare. In the past, limited travel options made it more difficult to spread any virus, especially in isolated pockets of civilization.
    “And then—” Simone paused. “Three outbreaks occurred with the potential to become apocalyptic. Drastic quarantine measures