Uprising: Operation Z, #1

By G.D. Szepanski

The dead have risen, and they're hungry for human flesh. Who can survive the uprising?

 

Donald Bishop thought he could rebuild his life by returning to a childhood passion, baseball. The night started off so well, when he met a pretty divorcee and her son at the game. Now the three stand cornered by a horde of hungry zombies! Will they escape or join the undead?

 

Uprising is a firsthand account of the start of the zombie apocalypse and book one in the Operation Z series. If you like fast-paced action, zombie gore, and survival thrillers, then you'll love G. D. Szepanski's brand new apocalyptic adventure.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Greg Szepanski
• Release date: Apr 24, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201016692

Book preview

Other Books by G. D. Szepanski

Novels

Uprising – Operation Z – Book One

Retribution – Operation Z – Book Two

Shattered – Operation Z – Book Three

Dead Summer – Operation Z Seasons – Book One

Serial Stories

Dead Summer (A Post Apocalyptic Zombie Story)

Dead Autumn (A Post Apocalyptic Zombie Story)

No Power, No Rules, No Mercy (A Post Apocalyptic EMP Story)

Novelles

Everyone Dies, A Post Apocalyptic Zombie Story in the Operation Z Series

Short Stories

Zombie Love Story and Fear

Free Book

Would you like a Free copy of Zombie Love Story?

Sign up for my mailing list and you’ll get your Free ebook. Plus, I’ll keep in touch with you with other offers, and news on releases. You can unsubscribe at any time.

Follow the link in the back of the book.

Copyright © 2023, 2021 G. D. Szepanski

All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law. For permission requests, contact [e-mail].

The story, all names, characters, and incidents portrayed in this production are fictitious. No identification with actual persons (living, deceased, or living dead), places, buildings, and products is intended or should be inferred.

Second Edition 2023

First edition 2021

Contents

1. Donald Bishop

2. Gwen Quinn

3. Donald Bishop

4. Pamela Bowman

5. Donald Bishop

6. Mel Jackson

7. Donald Bishop

8. Sean Graham

9. Gwen Quinn

10. Donald Bishop

11. Amy

12. Donald Bishop

13. Betty Bowman

14. Donald Bishop

15. Gwen Quinn

16. Betty Bowman

17. Amy

18. Donald Bishop

19. Lt. Thomas Johnson

20. Donald Bishop

21. Lt. Thomas Johnson

22. Donald Bishop

23. Vincent

24. Amy

25. Ron

26. Vincent

27. Donald Bishop

28. Lt. Thomas Johnson

29. Donald Bishop

Before You Go

Other Books by G.D. Szepanski

Copyright

Chapter 1

Donald Bishop

Three years passed since the dead rose from their graves and overran the world. Donald Bishop sat in his impenetrable bunker staring down the barrel of the three guns pointed at him and wondered how he reached this point. No one casts themselves as the villain in their own story, and Donald saw himself as the hero of his. Was this the way things ended for him, or would he find an out?

Donald, you know why we’re here, and you know how this ends. Give us what we’ve come for. The giant of a man spoke. Donald didn’t remember ever meeting this man before, but his voice sounded familiar. He pointed a Glock 24 Long Slide pistol at Donald, and it looked like a child’s toy in his huge hand. This strange sight caused Donald to roar with laughter. He couldn’t help himself because of the comical appearance.

Poshel ti! What the hell is so funny, Donald? He knew the red head well, but unfortunately for him, not intimately. A night between the sheets with her would have killed him. Russia made her into an assassin and taught her how to masquerade as a typical westerner. It worked well, except for the times she got angry or excited and lost the fake accent. She would be the one to watch carefully because danger lurked behind her beautiful face. Donald didn’t know if killing him would excite her or if death had become meaningless to her.

We’re getting nowhere here. I can make him talk. This third woman had been a complete mystery to Donald. She shared the same dead eyes as her two companions, telling him she witnessed plenty of violence during her life. But who could avoid violence during the apocalypse?

Only the strong survived, and Donald still considered himself part of the strong. The ties he cut kept him powerful and made him near invincible. Now he needed to discover a way out of this mess brought here by the three who stood across from him. No, his end wouldn’t happen here today. This was the place where the story started from, not the end.

***

Three Years Earlier

The death of the mighty crime boss and his father, Joey Bishop, and then the betrayal of his wife, Corinne, led Donald to the love of his childhood. Baseball. Joey had been a poor father, but a brutal business man, so Donald became an extremely wealthy man overnight. More money than he could have ever dreamed of. Maximillian Wolfe, the crooked mob lawyer, sourced a brand new shiny Airstream trailer and Chevy Silverado for Donald’s trip. He caught games in Washington, DC, and Baltimore before he headed to Boston. The Bishop family ruled Boston for years and expanded to Virginia via a merger with the Irish mob when Joey married Donald’s mother.

Donald got prime seats for both series to start his trip of a lifetime and hoped to find the same in Boston. But, unlike the bottom feeding Nationals and Orioles, the Red Sox led the American League East. Choice seats weren’t available for any of their upcoming games. So, Donald chose the next best thing and purchased tickets in the right field bleachers at Fenway Park. Cheap seats where the beer flowed freely. All the true and rowdy Red Sox fans watched the games from the bleachers. With the Sox on a winning streak, the games wouldn’t disappoint, and the bleacher crowd would be as interesting and lively as the games on the field.

Donald parked the Airstream at a campground outside of Worcester, Massachusetts, and took the T into Boston for his day of sightseeing and the first of three night games. He wanted a coffee before he started his day exploring the Freedom Trail. The first coffee house he found wasn’t crowded, so Donald entered the Moonstag Coffee shop. Moonstag occupied every corner in the country nowadays.

Anytime you ordered a plain black coffee from a fancy coffee shop, you always got dirty looks from the tattooed and pierced barista. Somehow, they thought you were a simpleton for not ordering one of their overpriced fancy brews. Anyone who paid that much for a cup of coffee was the true fool.

The tall slim woman with Elven features and an athletic build (her name tag read Gwen) who served it to Donald had been no different even if she lacked the tats and extra holes in her body. She tried to talk him into some fancy overpriced iced coffee drink, but he stuck with the hot black coffee which he preferred to drink year-round regardless of the weather. He had to admit the coffee tasted fantastic.

Donald thought of Boston as a major tourist destination, especially during the summer months so, it surprised him to find small crowds in the city. Even the original Cheers location didn’t have a wait for lunch. While he enjoyed a Giant Norm Burger, he heard the talk from the few other patrons. They spoke about the large numbers of people who got sick from this new flu bug. The flu didn’t pay respect to sex, race, or social economic differences. Everyone got sick from it. City officials urged those who displayed symptoms to stay home and get rest, and drink plenty of fluids since hospitals experienced overcrowding conditions. Rumors spread of patients who fought with each other and hospital personnel, while they waited for care in the Emergency Room. It sounded like a typical drunken night at any college frat house to Donald.

After his filling lunch, he headed out for a ride on the Duck Boat. Donald had never been on the tour before, but he saw them on TV during the last Red Sox World Series Championship parade. He enjoyed viewing all the historic sites from the Duck Mobile and had been glad he got this in at the start of his visit. During the trip, they mentioned today would be the last trip for the week since the hurricane coming up the coast would make the waters too rough for their amphibious vehicles to navigate safely. They were antique military surplus vehicles, after all.

Two hours before game time, the gates to Fenway Park opened, and Donald led the crowd inside. He sought the full game experience during his visit. Batting practice, hot dogs, peanuts, and just basking in the presence of the historic ballpark. Donald didn’t expect to find a better experience at any other ballpark in the country. The energy level inside of Fenway seemed high, Boston won a record number of games this season, but by game time the crowd hadn’t filled even half the stadium. Wonder why he couldn’t purchase better tickets? There were plenty of empty seats scattered throughout every section of the ballpark, well after the first pitch.

Donald expected a rowdy crowd, and the citizens of the bleachers didn’t disappoint. The occupants of the seats next to him made his night. Deborah Joseph, a tall, slim brunette with big brown eyes, brought her nine-year-old son Matthew to the Red Sox game. A pleasant divorcee and the complete opposite of his former wife, Corinne. She treated Matthew to a game because of his upcoming tenth birthday. Matthew would have his first double-digit birthday, so she planned the game as a big celebration for him.

Donald sprung for some hotdogs and sodas since he sensed the tickets alone stretched Deborah’s budget to the breaking point. During the seventh inning stretch, he decked Matthew out with all the proper souvenirs. A new Red Sox hat, t-shirt, baseball, and mini bat. Donald didn’t want to start a charity, but he discovered Deborah was fun to talk to and Matthew a brilliant kid. Donald only wanted to give them both a treat and get to know them better. Besides, he was rich now.

The game ended with another Red Sox victory, but Donald didn’t want the night to end so soon. He asked Deborah if they wanted to go out to celebrate both the Sox win and Matthew’s birthday. With a dimple revealing smile, Deborah agreed to extend their evening together.

***

Thanks to Joey’s continued interference, Donald never served as a Marine MP or a police officer. So, he never experienced the sounds and coppery smell of death before this lovely summer evening in Boston. As they exited onto Lansdowne Street, both this unique smell and the cacophony of chaos rushed toward the three of them at full force.

The scene surrounding them made the most bloody and gruesome war movie look like a G rated family musical. People fought with each other everywhere he turned. He found fighting wasn’t a strong enough word to describe the actions of the masses. Massive large-scale riots weren’t even a strong enough descriptor for the amount of bloodshed in the streets of Boston outside Fenway Park.

Moans and groans, which didn’t even sound human, mixed with the screams of humans as people pushed, hit, scratched, and even bit each other. Ragged strips of human flesh filled their mouths. His eyes fell onto a body where two people leaned over it and ate the intestines out of it. What the hell!

Faced with confusion and certain death, people have one of two reactions. They freeze or they run. The crowd exiting the ballpark froze as they tried to understand the disaster scene unfolding before them. But Donald’s adrenaline kicked in, causing him to move. He grabbed Deborah and Matthew, one with each hand, and dragged them away from the carnage. At least he hoped they headed away from the rioting mob. He picked a random direction and sprinted for their lives. There wasn’t time to do anything else, or even think, if they wanted to survive.

As they raced away, Donald saw a cop with his sidearm drawn into a two handed shooter’s grip. Multiple gun shots hit his intended target center mass, but the bloodied attacker kept charging straight at the officer. The police officer pulled the trigger until the slide locked back. Last Donald saw, the teeth of his attacker had torn the cop’s neck open.

Must… Keep… Running... Chaos reigned as screams, moans, and groans surrounded them. Keep moving, even though Donald became hopelessly lost in the maze of city streets. Up ahead, Donald spotted the train station. The train would be their ticket out of this mess. He hoped the station was clear of this insanity and the trains still ran. Donald jogged daily as part of his physical training regiment, but he sensed the woman and the boy slowing down. Only pure shots of adrenalin kept them moving, and neither could run much longer.

They slowed as they prepared to enter the train station. Before they reached the entrance, Donald noticed a microcosm of the scene from Lansdowne Street happening inside the building. Bodies scattered everywhere, being torn apart and eaten by their many attackers. They looked like the victims of a massive disaster. What the hell was happening? People went mad while they watched a baseball game.

With no other choice left, they turned and bolted away from the scene of death. Deborah and Matthew stumbled, and both felt like dead weights as he pulled them behind him. But the danger hadn’t faded. Instead, it appeared to be growing. The survivalist part of Donald’s brain said to leave them both behind. What did it matter? He didn’t know either of them. Better to escape this disaster alone and survive to live another day. Donald’s conscience cried out to stop these evil thoughts. He won’t become a monster like his dad, Joey. Time to let the evil Bishop legacy die.

Up ahead, Donald noticed a door slightly ajar, and he hoped it would be an opportunity for them to stop and catch their breath in safety. The constant running affected him now, and Donald couldn’t imagine how Deborah and Matthew felt. As they reached the door, he did a quick threat assessment and decided it was safe inside the small space. They entered, and Donald pulled the door shut.

Mailboxes lined one wall of the small lobby. A single light hung from the ceiling, flickered and it hid a young couple who slumped in the shadows of the room’s far corner. The couple drew closer together when Donald approached them. He didn’t notice any external injuries, but Donald suspected two cases of PTSD. Who could blame them with the bloody battle ensuing outside the building’s lobby?

Hi, my name is Donald. Are you two injured?

Maybe the couple didn’t speak English? Neither even looked his way as he spoke.

Donald turned back to Deborah and Matthew. Are you two ok?

Wide eyes, sweat, heavy breathing, and continued shaking were the only response he received from the two. He guessed they suffered from physical exhaustion and shock from what they witnessed. They would feel even worse physically as the adrenaline in their systems crashed. They needed to press on because movement was life, but none of them were machines. Donald’s MIT education gave him the technical knowledge to fix equipment, not people. They needed a plan to stay alive, and he knew it fell completely upon his shoulders.

***

The street outside the apartment building became quiet, and their breathing returned to a normal pace. Donald knew they couldn’t stay hidden inside this lobby forever. It only provided a temporary oasis. He decided the time to move again had come. They needed to find transportation out of the city so they could get to the safety of his Airstream. He left it parked in Worcester because of a lack of campgrounds in Boston proper.

Things are quiet now but won’t stay that way forever, so we need to get moving. We have to find transportation out of the city and away from this outbreak of madness.

Deborah and Matthew acknowledged his words with a nod each. The young couple stared at him like he was an alien invader speaking a foreign language.

It surprised Donald to see the couple stand and follow them out the door. They remained silent with glassy eyes, but they moved. Donald’s number one priority was the safety of Deborah and Matthew. He’d try not to fail the shell-shocked couple, but he considered them expendable. Donald directed the rag tagged group the opposite way from where they came. He didn’t know for sure what lay ahead, but he knew they would find only a painful death if they headed back toward the park.

They walked several blocks away from the war zone they had previously fled, seeing no one. No crazed rioters, no police, nor any other fleeing refugees like themselves. He found it eerie to see nothing after they witnessed all the deaths in the crowds surrounding Fenway. Eventually, they found a sign pointing the way to the Massachusetts Turnpike. It wasn’t a perfect plan, but if they hiked to the highway, they could catch a ride away from this certain death. City blocks continued to pass by and they found no new threats or any help.

It looked like all five of them might make it out of Boston alive. It turned out this thought hit Donald a little prematurely. As they rounded the next corner, the group ran straight into a horde of the murdering rioters. At first, the rioters were unaware of the group’s presence. Then the woman from the lobby chose this moment to make her first noise. She screamed. The closest monsters lunged for the screaming woman, and the man tried to play hero. He got pummeled, bitten, and ripped apart for his meager effort. Instead of running away, the woman stood there and screamed even louder. Like a ringing dinner bell, the next wave of monsters couldn’t resist her shrill call and they rushed toward her. After the first tackled her, the rest of the crowd dog piled her.

There would be no saving the couple, and not waiting to see what happened next, Donald grabbed Deborah and Matthew and dragged them away from the grizzly scene unfolding. The sound of the fading screams and the gnashing teeth drew more monsters to the gruesome party of death. They closed in from every direction and threatened to take down