Protocol Z

By Cynthia Seeberger

Houston is under siege. A most unexpected adversay, from an unexpected origin.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Apr 29, 2013
• ISBN: 9781483527192

Book preview

cover.

Prologue

Rising steadily, the sun creeps over the tops of the downtown buildings. The warm bright rays begin their job of chasing the shadows away. Golden light bathes everything in its path as it shines ever bright, reflecting off the windows of the buildings and cars, you can almost tell how beautiful the city once was, before it all happened. The streets sparkle as the light hits the broken glass that lie scattered from shattered windows.

A small pack of dogs, although once pets, have turned feral and are rummaging through debris looking for an easy meal. Food is scarce these days since the downfall of humanity, but then what would you expect when the human population has almost been annihilated. In the full light of the sun, you can see the devastation that was once the thriving city of Houston. Now decrepit and decaying, the weather worn buildings are crumbling away, suffering from a lack of maintenance. The decline makes the city look as if it has abandoned for many, many years; in truth, it has only been a little over two. It is the end of winter, late February, and the still clinging dead leaves only add to the look of desolation.

The city streets are steadily being replaced by grass, weeds and the occasional small tree, growing up out of the cracks in the sidewalks and streets. Most of the buildings were cleared of food or useful supplies months before. Occasionally a stash with something of use can be found, hidden by a survivor then abandoned for one reason or another. Any food that has not yet been found has long ago spoiled.

A small group of survivors are moving in single file between some wrecked cars, they moving north to search for other survivors; they can’t be all that is left. They had survived for quite some time but after a while they needed to know who or what was left. Each with a loaded backpack over their shoulders, they move as silently as they can.

The leader sees something they can definitely use; holding his hand up he stops the group. Immediately they crouch; using sign language the leader lets the group know what he sees, a small deer grazing just ahead and to the left. How lucky for them, they will eat fresh meat tonight. Then he realizes there is another movement ahead but to the right of the group. It did not appear to be an animal, more of a human form, possibly another survivor? Is someone else hunting this animal? They must check it out.

The two best marksmen from the group separate and set out after the deer. The two best trackers will go and try to determine what the other movement was; the others serve as lookouts.

The ones that remain, serve as extra eyes, and ears, it is too easy to become engrossed in a task and miss important details that may warn of a coming danger.

As the group splits, the hunters armed with bows move in towards their prey. The animals are skittish, they jump at every sound; they are being hunted at every turn. Not just by their normal predators, humans and the carnivores they are used to, but now by a new predator that hunts non-discriminately. Anything that is moving is attacked. Nowadays, there are fewer predators, less humans, less animals, less everything, the animals have relaxed to some degree. Of the few predators they have left, some can’t catch them, the rest are rarely seen.

The pair of hunters moving forward, with an expert level of stealth that would impress a navy seal. They split up and flank the animal that was now grazing nonchalantly on some tender grass shoots growing up from a new crack in the old concrete.  Moving in perfect unison, the plan they execute has been discussed, practiced and used many times before now. Their moves are in complete sync, like a pair of dancers performing a flawless ballet. In position, crouching in the waist deep grass, they ready their bows.

The arrows are drawn back sitting lightly on the taut strings; the men’s muscles flex waiting for the right moment. A bird taking flight nearby bringing the deer to attention, as if sensing the men near the deer begins to carefully survey her surroundings.

Smelling, snorting, and pawing at the ground she is trying to determine who or what she senses. Turning her head slowly from right to left, pausing at the end of the turn, she gave the hunter, on the right side, his opportunity. Rising slightly, he releases the string, the arrow flying silently into the heart of the animal. Panicked, but injured, she collapses to the ground. Still trying to see where the attack came from she lies as still as she can hoping her camouflage is enough to hide her, hoping to recover before her attacker finds her. Adrenaline is pumping so furiously through her body it is the only thing keeping her alert now. Watching from the grass, patiently the two hunters wait for her to calm, knowing if they move too soon her adrenaline rush could allow her to spring up and run far enough to escape them.

On the other side, the group’s leader and the other tracker are slowly moving in the opposite direction looking for whatever or whoever was moving down into the alley. Using some old dumpsters and large pieces of debris to conceal themselves, they cautiously creep forward deeper into the alley behind the buildings.

As they round the corner they are greeted by a strong breeze, swirling between the buildings; it brought with it the sounds of shuffling feet, a low guttural moan and that smell. Looking at each other, they know what they are tracking now; there is no mistaking it, that smell is unique.

In the beginning, it was harder to decipher the smell as it mixed with the myriad of other smells. As society was falling apart, the garbage was beginning to pile up, sewers stopping up after the water shut off in spots, and the dead, decaying bodies that lay littering the streets. With all of these scents blending it became impossible to distinguish one smell from another.

Looking at each other and nodding they were pulling the bandanas from around their neck up covering their mouths and noses. Pulling a pair of goggles from their pockets they put them on to protect their eyes, exchanging another look, taking a deep calming breaths, they pulled weapons from their belts. Gingerly and methodically, as quietly as they could, they started moving towards the putrid smell, a smell they knew far too well. A smell that could only be coming from one of those horrid creatures….

Chapter 1

The entire day had been scorching hot, the sun beating down mercilessly on the dig crew. Soaked in sweat, faces red and muscles aching, the crew was working to finish the task at hand but no one was complaining. Everyone was so excited; most did not even notice the heat any longer. They discovered a new section, and by complete accident. The rest of the day was devoted to gaining entrance to this mystery section.

As the sun slowly begins to set across the desert sands, the fading light is casting long shadows off everything in the path of its rays. As it bathes everything in reddish orange light, the waves of heat are slowly dissipating. Finished for the day, the dig crew packs to leave. Erin Estep, assistant to Dr. Jerald Stone walks down the newly cleared tunnel to let him know they were packing it up for the day.

As Erin was walking through the darkness, she wrinkled up her little pixie nose. This tunnel had the oddest smell, not that any of the digs she had been too had ever smelled good. They all seemed to have the same stale musty dirt smell, but this one was different. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it but there was a faint putrid smell. The room was even worse; the smell seemed to seep from the walls. It felt creepy, uneasy, always as if you were not alone. The dig crew sensed it too; there was uneasiness among the workers. No one knew quite why, but something just felt wrong.

As Dr. Stone stood in the newly found room he was thinking how strange it was that this tomb was all alone with no connection to the rest of the dig site. It was only by accident that they found this one; one of the techs was playing with the ground x-ray machine away from the original site when it picked up this chamber.

The entrance was not like any other he had seen; it was very simple, very plain, almost as if it was hidden by the builders themselves. Once inside, however, the plainness changed. Along the entrance tunnel, were multiple doors each sealed and each with their own curse, or some type of warning, and many had spells of protection. The messages written on the tunnel’s seals did nothing but increase the uneasiness of the crew. A few even said they did not want to go in, in fact that they would not go in. Whoever closed this really made an effort to conceal or protect the contents.

It was approximately 20 yards from the rest of the site, just a single tunnel with one room at the end, could this be the start of the tomb but then abandoned for some reason, if so why? The most curious fact was that the end room was empty; they had sealed off an empty room.  So why go to the extra effort to seal it so securely?

Dr. Stone? The crews are packing up to leave. Do you need me for anything else?"

After a pause, Stone answered, "No, I’m coming, Just looking for some explanation for this room. Go