Station Hope (Book 1): Humanities Last Stand Read online

  Station Hope

  Humanities last stand

  by

  Thomas A. Bach

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  Station Hope 2

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to actual events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with.

  Copyright © 2016 Thomas A Bach. All rights reserved. Including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof, in any form. No part of this text may be reproduced in any form without the express written permission of the author.

  Version2016.04.22

  1

  I woke from my nightmare covered in sweat. Not again I thought, not another night’s sleep cut short by one of my terror filled dreams. Many years ago young men of 21 would have been worrying about girls or getting a job. Here I was having nightmares about those creatures and just struggling to survive. I could hear my brother James snoring softly in the bunk above me so I laid there not wanting to wake him. My mind went over the current situation I found myself in.

  It happened decades ago before I was born. No one knows for sure how or why. Legend says they came out of Romania, the Carpathian Mountains to be specific. They spread like a tidal wave, west into Europe and south across the Middle East. Nothing seemed to stop them or even slow them down. They spread across Russia and into Asia, down to Africa. They crossed over to South America and headed north towards The United States and Canada. They engulfed the world in a matter of weeks. There came wild stories of bloodsucking creatures savagely attacking humans. The stories seemed so outrageous but in a blink of an eye humanity almost went extinct. The Earth’s population decreased from over seven billion to only a hand full, I have never seen more than seven hundred humans in my entire life. We never use the word vampire anymore, but that's what they essentially are. I've heard the old vampire legends from my Grandfather, but the only parts that hold true are the blood sucking and the increased strength. They can go out into the sun and they don't turn into bats. As for them being terrified of the cross or holy water burning them, I have never witnessed either.

  My grandfather would tell me and my younger brother James how they came to his town. He called it the “Great Evil” and his stories always gave us nightmares. He would recount in great detail how his hometown, in what was once Wisconsin, was overrun by the creatures. My Grandfather managed to get my father and Uncle Phil into the north woods where they hid for years. Living like animals, hiding and scavenging all the time. He would always say, “Humans ain't the top of the food chain anymore.” They barely survived those first harsh winters but survive they did.

  The stories I enjoyed the most were the ones my Grandfather would tell about how things were before they came. About video games and cell phones, about how his parents would take him to a store that would be full of food, all they had to do was pick things off the shelf. How they drove in cars where and when they wanted. How they didn't have to carry a gun all the time. How they slept in peace in warm beds with full stomachs. How they would play games and have fun day or night. It seems so bizarre to me, so unimaginable. Sometimes I thought my grandfather must have made it all up. But then I see the remains of the old cities, full of houses that people once lived in, dilapidated and uninhabitable now. Their cars and possessions decaying slowly in front of me. It's hard to imagine what it was like for my grandfather as a child. Neither I nor my brother have ever known anything but fear. I often found myself looking at the remains of the roads and wondering what it was like to drive down them without a care in the world. We never walk on the roads or at least what's left of them. Wild game use them as trails and they hunt us on those trails. That's just one of the hundreds of tricks my grandfather taught me to stay alive. It’s been five years since he was killed by those things and I miss him terribly. He taught us how to hunt for food, how to survive on own, and most importantly he taught us how they could be killed. He died saving my life which is something that will haunt me all the days of mine.

  My grandfather founded what is now known as Station Hope. It's a small group of humans attempting to make a life, to survive, and to kill those dreadful creatures. No one ever leaves the compound at night, they move and see better at night. Almost everyone caries a weapon at all times, on rare occasions they hunt during daylight. They can't see as well but will come out if hungry enough.

  There are 597 humans living at Station Hope, down from 612 at the start of winter. Some were taken by the creatures and some were taken by God. Two women are pregnant and a few wanderers always find their way here during the summer. Humans use to run and hide in the woods or cities always in small groups. Taking refuge where they could find it but always living like rats. Four years before I was born my grandfather decided he had enough of that and returned to his hometown along with 25 others. He grew up just outside of Green Bay and picked an old jail complex northeast of the city as their new home. They found they could defend themselves better from a fortified fixed position instead of running around like rats constantly hunted by the creatures. They established themselves, Station Hope grew and continues to grow.

  It is a constant battle between the creatures, the elements, sickness and starvation but overall we are better off than before. We live in the old cell blocks which provide security and some privacy. When I was a small boy a large concrete wall was constructed surrounding the main jail complex. Fences with barbed wire surround the rest of the complex along with some of the fields. Everyone sleeps within the security of the wall. We grow our food or hunt in the woods, some fish the bay. Everyone has a job and most have several. There is an armory where guns are repaired and casings are reloaded. The old sally port is now a repair shop for the few remaining vehicles. A power plant, both bio-fuel and solar energy, supplies electricity and pumps clean water up from the well. There are specialty shops where craftsmen make everything from furniture to tanning hides for clothes. Eddie is the electronics guru who fixes anything electronic. If he can’t scavenge for a part, he just makes it. He keeps what’s left of the computers, televisions, radios, and solar panels working. A small medical area where Dr. Hendricks doubles as a dentist is just off the main corridor. He also does research on the creatures with the help of my girlfriend, Ivy. Near the center of the complex the jail kitchen provides the community meals three times a day. Uncle Phil is in charge of security, sort of the Sheriff, he has five deputies to assist him. There is also a school that everyone under 13 must attend, Miss Esler is the only teacher. A middle aged woman who lost her husband two years ago, he was taken during a scavenging trip. The old gymnasium serves as the community center where meetings are held, sporting events occur, and movies are shown. Over the last few years a sort of class system has begun to develop within the compound. My father, he inherited the role of leader after my Grandfather was killed, and extended family are at the top, craftsmen along with their apprentices are becoming the aristocrats, the farmers and laborers make up the lower class. Everyone works hard, they eat the same, dress the same, are provided amenities and securities equally but there is definitely a change taking place.

  The complex is located on a hill just northeast of the city. From this vantage point, you can look west and see down the valley. The twisted metal spans of the old I-43
bridge seem to dangle in the wind as they hang down and disappear into the green water of the bay. Beyond that a few buildings and an old sports arena still penetrate the tree tops, the ruins of the old city. Only one bridge remains across the Fox River but it’s in the center of the old downtown. We only cross it when it's absolutely necessary, that seems to be where the creatures like to hide from the light of day. To the north the waters of the bay stretch as far as the eye can see. To the south and east lie the crop fields, beyond that nothing but forest. This is a good location to defend. The forest provides materials and food. The bay provides water and fish. The land is fertile and good for growing crops. Overall it would be a wonderful place to raise a family if only they were not here.

  Almost morning now and my watch is nearing its end. No sign of them tonight which is a welcome relieve. Five days and nights now without a single sighting, a blessing to be sure but so out of the ordinary it makes everyone uneasy. What are they doing, where have they gone, and what are they planning next. We can never let our guard down, never relax for a single minute. If we do the creatures sense it and someone here dies. Enough of them die already from those monstrous evil things. Sleep will be welcomed after this long cold night. I can only hope the nightmares are kept to a minimum. As I sit in watchtower 2 and stare out into the darkness, it was my week for night watch duty, I wonder what’s beyond the valley. Are there humans out there better off than us, are there any humans left out there at all? Finally, I can hear my relief coming up the ladder. I gather my gear and head back down to good old cell block E. My cell is on the second tier, the metal placard on the wall as you enter reads B2. This is my home, my little escape from the real world. I share the cell with my younger brother James who just turned 18. My father and mother sleep in a cell on the first tier just below. My Uncle Phil and Aunt Jane sleep in a cell on the other side of the block. Their daughter Crystal sleeps in the cell next to them. In the center of the cell block are metal tables and an old control station where a guard would sit. Everything is made of concrete or steel, it is a cold and uninviting atmosphere. My mother made it feel like a home as much as she could. Each cell door was covered with wood or cloth in an attempt to have some privacy. The cells themselves were furnished with whatever could be salvaged from the remains of the past. By the front door a wooden table and chairs made by our carpenters. There are a few pictures hanging on the walls and plants near the windows. Crystal is 8 now and uses the back wall of the cell block as a canvas. She loves to draw on it and is always thrilled when I returned form a scavenging trip with any type of paint. Gathering around the metal tables for meals, playing games, or to plan scavenging trips was always a welcomed break. Cell block E was by far the least crowded compared to the others. This was in part because my father is the leader of the compound. Uncle Phil is the Sheriff and right hand man, this responsibility comes with a few perks, very few. The vast majority of the people living in the compound respected and followed my father, only a few felt things should be run different. George Bremer was the most outspoken of that group. He came across to me as an arrogant know it all who wasn't very smart and that could be a dangerous combination. There is a “board of elders” who are elected by the people and George is on that board. They discuss problems and concerns and give recommendations to my father. He would generally base his decisions on those recommendations but not always. The system has worked fairly well for over two decades now, the thought of taking my father’s place someday fills me with dread. My father is a large man, standing 6'2” and weighing 250bls. His full beard and long wavy hair engulf his face. Just a touch of gray is visible now and the wrinkles around his eyes seem deeper. To most he is an imposing and intimidating man but to me he has a kind heart with the safety of the compound his number one priority. Uncle Phil was almost an exact copy but a bit shorter and no gray yet. He walked with a slight limp from an injury he got as a boy. Neither he nor my father have ever really talked about it. Both men worked well together and the community was lucky to have them.

  It wasn't until my Grandfather died that I realized I would be in charge of Station Hope someday. In so many ways, I'm not like my father. I lack the confidence and charisma that comes naturally to him. People automatically respect and listen to him. The fear of leading this place is with me every single day.

  I climbed into bed and slid down under the warm blankets and clean sheets, a rare feeling of security and comfort overcame me. The sheets felt clean and crisp, my mother must have changed them. I pulled them up over my shoulder and feel asleep as my head hit the pillow.

  2

  I sprang out of bed and attempted to comprehend the sound blaring in my ears. So loud it was disorientating, my mind cleared enough so I could recognize it as the attack alarm. I jumped into my shoes, grabbing my rifle, which was never more than an arm’s length away, and ran out the cell door. James was just in front of me as we entered the common area of the cell block. My father and uncle were already there, rifles in hand. James and I fell in line behind as all of us ran out of the cell block and headed to the front entrance of the jail. As we ran outside I was surprised to see it was dark out. I felt like I had just put my head on my pillow, that was hours ago. Odd that at that moment I was grateful for a good sleep. I followed my father, Uncle and James up the stairs that led to the top of the concrete wall. If need be a person could walk around the entire compound from up here. We took up our assigned positions and peered out into the darkness. The spot lights could only penetrate into the darkness about 200 yards. What lay beyond their reach is what filled us with fear. Other members of the wall security team (WST) took up positions on either side of us. A few minutes passed and the alarm went silent. Now just the sound of trees rustling in the wind filled the cool, crisp night air. The early spring breeze on my face gave me a chill down to my bones, or maybe it was not knowing what was out there. Either way the hair on the back of my neck was standing on edge, never a good sign. Out of the corner of my eye I could see my father looking at me. I turned to look at him as he gave me a reassuring smile. Suddenly, a single creature cleared the tree line running towards the wall directly in front of me. The creatures were fast and could climb the wall although it was difficult for them. They were stronger than an average man and used their long fingernails to claw up the concert wall. I raised my rife, took careful aim, and fired. The creatures body jerked, blood spattered out of its chest but it was still running. One bullet was rarely enough to stop them unless you were lucky enough to hit them in the head and take out enough brain matter. The creature barley slowed down as the entire wall erupted in gun fire. The sound was defining and the mussel flashes made the night look like someone turned on a strobe light. I watched in slow motion as a bullet hit the left shin of the creature in front of me, the lower part of the leg tore away leaving a bloody stump. The creature fell to the ground unable to run, it continued to desperately claw at the ground dragging itself closer to the wall. Other creatures were emerging from the tree line all running for the wall. Not as large a group as in the past but still enough to make the adrenalin surge. I took careful aim and finished the one legged creature off with a shot that exploded its head. I quickly searched for another target as my father, James and Uncle Phil fired repeatedly. I spotted a creature just emerging from the trees, a young male, I thought, that's odd to see such a young one in an attack party. I raised my rifle, put that little evil bastard in my sights and pulled the trigger. It looked like the little creature run straight into a brick wall as the bullet entered its chest cavity. It fell back and was unable to get up again. The gun shots began to fade until the wall fell silent. Shouts of “all clear” began to make their way around the wall. I looked to my left and saw James staring back at me. I saw both fear and the effects of adrenalin in his eyes. I thought to myself, James could be a loose cannon, he acted on impulse too often.

  “Are you alright?” I asked as I reached out and grabbed his arm.

  “Ya, I'm fine just pumped up now”.r />
  “OK good, stay here and cover us while we go finish them off.”

  “Be careful out there big bro”.

  I stood up and let go of his arm, “always am squirt.”

  I followed my father down the stairs and we made our way to the main gate. James and Uncle Phil remained on the wall. A group of five heavily armed men assembled and prepared to go outside. It was necessary to go out right away and make sure the creatures were dead. We had learned from costly experience that some creatures were able to rejuvenate themselves. Others played dead only to attack later when we were less prepared.

  “Stay close Billy Boy,” Father yelled over. “Stay sharp”.

  The big green steel doors of the main gate creaked open exposing a vast field in front of us. We all headed out and to the left, moving fast. The lights from the wall cast shadows onto the tree line. It was eerie and made my mind think there were creatures moving everywhere. As we moved around the wall, we checked each body to make sure it was dead. A few hundred yards out and I saw the small one I had shot laying just ahead of me. Its evil eyes penetrated me sending a shiver down my spine.

  “This one is still moving!” I yelled towards my father.

  “Keep it covered Billy boy!”.

  I looked down at the creature, it was the youngest I had ever seen. There was something different about it and not just its age. I looked closer and then it hit me, this one was wearing clothes. Nice clothes, better than anything we had in the compound. I also noticed he didn't have that rancid odor like the others. All the other creatures I had encountered up to now were in rags and stunk to high heaven. I looked around at some of the other creatures lying about. Most were in rags, but a few were also in nice clothes. I noticed their physical features seem more human, less zombieish than the others. The rest of the WDT members gathered around the little bastard, most of its chest was gone, but It was still clawing towards us, growling and hissing.