City of the Undead

By robert l. bryan

Was it an attack or a naturally occurring event?

The government still didn't know. The only thing certain was the results. 130,000 Americans were dead, and if not for the heroic efforts of medical science in producing a vaccine, the United States would likely have ceased to exist as a functioning nation. More disturbing was the new term that became a part of every citizen's vocabulary – Post-life Reanimated Entity, or PRE – the government's effort to clinically label the undead.

The events of 9/11 proved that Americans have short memories. It only took a few years without a major terrorist attack for citizens to lower the priority of counterterrorism and homeland security. The same phenomenon occurred after the outbreak. Once the threat from the PREs had been eradicated the citizenry went on with life as normal, with the image of the undead stalking the streets just a faded bad dream.

NYPD Lieutenant Rick Soto is about to find out that New York City has a dark secret it is keeping from its citizens. Soto will be thrust into the middle of a threat that is all too real below the streets of the city. New York City still has work to do to eliminate the undead threat, and that mission is the job of Lt. Soto's new Police Zombie Squad.

• Language: English
• Publisher: robert l. bryan
• Release date: Jul 21, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223234845

robert l. bryan

Thank you for purchasing my book detailing the early history of policing in New York City.  This is the tenth book in the “Police of New York City” series. This is a change of pace for me as most of my previous works have been memoirs regarding my police career as well as humorous works of fiction. You can check out all my books on my Amazon Author Page.  Again, thanks, and I hope you enjoy reading about this small piece of New York City policing history.  I would greatly appreciate a brief review when you have completed the book. https://www.amazon.com/Robert-L.-Bryan/e/B01LXUSALG/ref=dp_byline_cont_ebooks_1

Book preview

Chapter 1

Present Day

Rick Soto stared at the painting on the wall.  It was a simple scene.  Two children frolicked in front of a country cottage, green rolling hills providing the backdrop.  For some reason, Rick did not accept the painting for what it was.  He kept looking for something else, like the picture of the old woman who is a young girl.  Somewhere inside that placid setting, Rick kept looking for the picture within the picture. 

You like that painting?  Inspector Ray Dobson entered his office and plopped behind his large oak desk. 

Rick shrugged. That’s one of those trick pictures, isn’t it?

What?

You know – you look at it one way and it looks like kids playing in front of a house and you look at it another way and it looks like the devil dancing, or something like that.

Ray tilted his head and glanced at the painting. You see the devil dancing?

Rick shook his head. No, I’m just using an example.  I still haven’t seen the other picture yet.

Ray chuckled. Maybe you haven’t seen it because there is no other picture.

Rick shrugged. Who knows?

Ray nodded. It’s been a while. You look good.

Rick sarcastically flexed his biceps. I guess I’m in pretty good shape for a 43-year old card carrier.

The smile evaporated from Ray’s face.  You were infected? I didn’t realize.

Hey, Rick chuckled. It’s no big deal.  The only difference between me and you is when I kick the bucket, someone is going to look inside my wallet, see the card, and instantly toss me in the fire.

You’ve always had a way with words, Ray snickered.

Rick leaned forward. Hey, when you look at the big picture, I was lucky.  I could have been one of the over a hundred thousand poor bastards who were killed by this virus, or worse yet, I could have been killed by the virus but still be walking around.

Ray shrugged. I guess you’re right.  How are Diane and Kristin?

Rick’s tone became somber. Let’s not go there, Ok?

Ray put both hands in the air and sat back in his chair. Sorry.  I won’t mention it again.

Rick’s upbeat tone returned. So why is my old buddy bringing me down to the headquarters palace? I would think that you would get in step with the rest of the brass and avoid a pariah like me.

Don’t be dramatic, Ray cautioned.

Who’s being dramatic, Rick shot back. It’s a bad career move for you to be seen with a slug like me.

Ray cleared his throat. That’s all behind you now.  Believe me.  This is a new day.

A new day. How nice, Rick scoffed. So why am I here on this new day?

I want you to be in on this conference call, Ray responded.  Dr. Moody is giving a DHS briefing at 10AM.

Dr. Moody?

Shortly after the epidemic was detected, the Department of Homeland Security formed a special unit.  Dr. Moody continues to be a key member of the unit.

Rick threw his hands out to the sides. I thought this whole thing was under control and the threat was over.

Ray bit his lip. It’s not over.  That’s what Dr. Moody will be talking about. Ray glanced at the clock located several feet from the painting. It’s almost ten o’clock. Time to dial in.

The background noise was evidence that the conference had not yet begun.  A male cleared his throat and began speaking without identifying himself.  Rick assumed the speaker with the British accent must be Dr. Moody.

"On September 11th, 2001 the world changed, and everyone realized the feeling of security enjoyed in the United States would never be the same.  Years later, 9/11 seemed almost insignificant when the virus was unleashed on our shores. 

How did it happen?  It has been ten years and there is still much about the epidemic that we don’t know.  Was it terrorism or some naturally occurring event?  The knee jerk response was to blame the Russians and we came very close to war before it became painfully obvious that Russia was not responsible.  What we do know is that over a quarter of the population of the United States was infected with the virus, and 150,000 people died within three months.  Only the extraordinary work of our doctors and scientists prevented the United States from ceasing to exist as a functional nation.  The vaccine was effective and the dying ceased. 

This was not the end of the catastrophe. We soon learned that the real catastrophe hadn’t even begun.  The phenomenon of reanimation had only been the subject of horror movies and science fiction novels, but suddenly, much like after 9/11, our country had to adjust to life under a new normalcy, one that included a threat from entities who were clinically considered to be dead.

The virus was airborne so almost the entire population of the east and west coasts were infected.  The quick development of the vaccine stopped the dying, but the virus still resides inside millions of people.  When these people die they will transition into Post-life Reanimated Entities, or PRE’s.  I don’t particularly like these made up designations and acronyms, so I will refer to them as the rest of the population does – zombies.

So, where are we today.  Most coastal states, including New York, have passed laws mandating immediate cremation.  The problem now lies with controlling the existing zombie population.  This is particularly galling because several years ago we were on the verge of completely eradicating the existing PREs, but human rights groups and progressive politicians became involved.  Before we knew it, activist groups like the American Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to PREs had emerged.  As a result, new detention facilities were built under the administration of the Federal Bureau of Prisons.  There are currently three federal PRE- Centers, one in Southern California, one in Georgia, and one in New York City where the remaining zombie population is confined. The wonderful treatment in these detention centers has resulted in a completely new problem.  The zombies are being treated so well and humanely that their un-life expectancy is rapidly growing – now as much as five years. That completes my status report.  I will now be glad to take any questions."

The voice carried a distinctive southern drawl. Sheriff Tom Watson, Glynn County, Georgia.  How many of these zombie things are still alive, or exiting.?

That’s impossible to say, Dr. Moody replied. The federal government has designated that statistic to be top secret.  The best I can say is that all three of the detention facilities currently house detainees, but I cannot say how many.  It is also important to note that no visitors are allowed at these facilities because of the possibility of a visitor recognizing a detainee as a loved one.

Fred Jonas, Boston Police Department. I know what you just said about classified information, but can you at least tell us if the numbers of these detained zombies are going down?

There is certain information that is policy and public record, Dr. Moody began. The average existence span for a PRE is now five years, but that time frame is growing.  Although the number of PREs is classified, it is a public policy that the maximum PRE population has been set at a fixed, but classified number.  Whenever the population exceeds this number, euthanasia is enacted to reduce the number.

A female voice came on the line. Loretta Davis, San Diego Police Department. I don’t get it.  We go out of our way to keep these things alive, but if they get over a certain number, we kill them.

That’s politics, ma’am, Dr. Moody calmly responded. Any other questions? Dr. Moody asked.

Chief Hubert Haynes, Greenville, South Carolina Police Department.  To be perfectly honest, I ain’t never seen one of these zombie critters.  If they are still out there – where are they?  Because they ain’t in South Carolina.

You’re very fortunate, Chief, but trust me – there still is a threat. Dr. Moody cleared his throat in anticipation of a lengthy explanation.  First of all, the situation is much improved as opposed to right after the outbreak ten years ago.  As a matter of fact, I would venture to say that conditions have shifted 180-degrees.  The outbreak is very much under control, but that does not mean that the threat does not exist.  Remember, it is virtually impossible to completely enforce the mandatory cremation law.  Too many people die under too many different circumstances.  When any of the millions of infected people die and they are not immediately cremated, they will reanimate.  It will take at least another 75-years for this generation of infected individuals to pass away.  So, there will always be some PREs, but thankfully, there is very little chance you will run into one roaming the streets.

Don Logan, Minneapolis Police. I never understood why the outbreak was contained to the coasts.

Well, Dr. Moody commented. If we knew exactly what caused the virus, I would be better able to comment on the geographical data.  I can, however, comment on how it remained a coastal issue.  PRE’s are not exceptionally mobile, but anytime a PRE made it inland, mother nature took its course.

What does that mean? Logan asked.

It means that zombies are easy prey for wild animals.  It was only a matter of time before a bear or some other predator became hungry.

Before another voice could chime in, Dr. Moody brought the conference to a conclusion. I want to thank everyone for participating and I hope you will participate in next week’s conference.  Have a good day.

Rick sat back in the chair and stretched. So, you brought me all the way down to Police Plaza to hear some egg head talk about a threat that's no longer a threat. He shook his head. I don't get it.

Ray leaned forward and folded his hands on his desktop. Are you happy where you are?

Oh yeah, Rick scoffed. After sixteen years on the job my career path is perfect.  Lieutenant at the Auto Pound - that's just where I always wanted to be, counting derelict and recovered stolen vehicles all day.

Ray smiled wryly. So, you’re not happy?

Are you kidding, Rick countered. Who wouldn't be happy supervising a squad of rubber gun cops.

Don't exaggerate, Ray warned.

You're right, Rick admitted. I have some full duty cops at the pound, but most of the staff have had their guns removed for disciplinary, medical, or psychological reasons.

Get off your high horse, Ray countered. Many people have problems, including cops. There's no shame in it.

Don't I know it, Rick shot back. Until recently I was one of them.  I was a rubber gun.

Hey, Ray blurted. What happened to you sucks.  I know it. You know it, and a lot of good people in this department know it.

Really? Rick scoffed. All those good people watched me go through a criminal trial, and when they couldn't get me there, they took care of me in the NYPD's Kangaroo court.

You're preaching to the choir, Ray concurred.

But you know something, Inspector. I learned my lesson.  If I was put in the same situation again, I wouldn't go into that house.

You're full of shit! Ray declared. For a month they were using that stolen police radio to figure out when the narcotics raids were coming. One of your informants told you the radio was in the house. You had to go get it before it was moved.

But I didn't get a warrant, Rick shrugged. Add to it the fact that the home was owned by a member of the City Council and all you have is a rogue lieutenant who burglarized a home.

But the system worked, Ray stated. A jury acquitted you of the burglary charge.

Sure, they did, Rick sneered. But they found me guilty of violating the patrol guide in a departmental trial and gave me thirty days suspension, a year's dismissal probation, and dumped me in the auto pound.

Ray took a deep breath. Well, your probation is over.  That's why I called you here.

What are you talking about?

Ray smiled. I'm gonna get you back in the game.

Rick shook his head and waved his hands. Oh,no! I just want to ride out my last few years at the pound and retire.

Ray stood up and looked out his window. You might fool a lot of people with that line of crap, but not me. He turned and faced Rick. I've known you since college.  We worked together in Street Crime and Narcotics.  You're one of the best cops I've ever seen and you can say what you want, but I know you love it.  Whether you want to admit it or not, you want back in the game and I'm gonna see that you get that chance, whether you like it or not.

I’m still not reading you, Inspector.

What’s my job right now?

You’re the Commanding Officer of the Police Commissioner’s Special Projects Section, so what?

So, Ray explained, The PC has tasked me with putting together a new unit.

What unit?

The PRESS Squad.

Rick shook his head and sighed. Aren’t there enough of those fake news morons crawling around the building?

It has nothing to do with reporters, Ray corrected. PRESS stands for Post-life Reanimated Entity Suppression Squad.

Rick sat silently for a moment, tapping his fingers on Ray’s desk, considering the name of the unit. Sounds to me like a zombie squad, he opined.

Ray shrugged. Call it whatever you want, but you are the new commanding officer of the squad.

What! Rick leaped out of the chair. That’s ridiculous. Everyone knows the threat from these things was over years ago.  The ones that are left are locked up in those detention centers.  No one has seen one of them roaming the streets in years – that British guy on the phone just said so.  Anyway, no one cares about this zombie virus anymore.  It was just like 9/11. A year later people didn’t care about security from terrorism.  It was too much trouble. It has become the same with this zombie crap.  If there’s not some decaying monster trying to crawl through their window and munch on their brains – people don’t care.

Ray shrugged. "I wish it were that simple. The fact is that there is still a threat – a serious threat.

What now, killer rats? Rick mocked.

Ray did not react to Rick’s flippant remark. Look, Rick, this is extremely sensitive information.

Rick was seated again and he leaned forward in his chair.

Ray took a deep breath. Officially, the PRE epidemic is under control.  The citizenry is free to pursue the American Dream without the fear of being torn to pieces by a zombie.

So, what’s the problem? Rick shrugged.

The problem is that it’s all bullshit! Ray held up his right hand in the universal stop sign. Don’t get me wrong, he continued, in almost the entire country the threat has been eradicated, but not here in New York City.

Rick was confused. What are you talking about? There hasn’t been one of those things seen on the streets for years.

I didn’t say anything about the threat being on the streets, Ray clarified.

Then where? Rick asked.

Ray pointed to the floor. Underground. The subway system.

Rick waved a dismissive hand. With all due respect, Inspector, you’re nuts! The subways are running normally and there have been no reports of those things roaming the tunnels.

Trust me Rick – they are there. Ray nodded. It is the official policy of City Hall that there is no threat anywhere in the City.  If the truth got out and the subway system was shut down, the worry is that there would be a ripple effect of fear that would completely devastate the city’s economy.

Rick sat back, crossed his leg and stroked his chin. So, what exactly is the truth.

The truth is that the subway tunnels of New York City have proven to be the perfect environment for the PREs to thrive.  There’s no way to get exact numbers, but the best estimate is that there are at least a thousand down there, and what is most troubling is that the population is growing.

Are they having zombie babies down there? Rick snickered.

They are still active down there, but City Hall has been able to keep the reports out of the news. Just last week, Ray continued, A cop from Queens was killed.

A cop was killed last week? Rick gasped. I didn’t hear about that.

And you won’t, Ray replied. There have also been numerous transit workers who have become victims and joined their ranks.

And you want me to round them all up and dump them in the detention center.

Ray’s stare became icy. No, there will be no movement to detention centers.  Your mission is to terminate the threat with extreme prejudice.

So, you want me to kill all these things? Rick confirmed.

Ray bit his lip. Technically, it would not be killing because they are not alive by legal definition.

Rick waved both hands. Screw the technicalities. You want me to go down into the tunnels and blow all the zombies away, right?

Yes, ray nodded. And the job has to be done very discreetly.

How long will I be in this assignment?

Ray shrugged. As long as it takes to finish the job completely. Ray nodded. And when it’s over, you will have your pick of any assignment in the department.  You’ll be back in the game on whatever terms you want.

Rick smiled. Do I have a choice?

Ray shook his head and stood. No! Now let’s stop wasting time.

Where are we going?

Ray opened the door to his office and motioned for Rick to pass through. We’re going to meet the members of your PRESS squad, or as you so eloquently called it – the Zombie Squad.

Traffic was crawling on the approach to the Brooklyn Bridge.  Ray tapped his horn several times to activate a whelp on the siren on his unmarked vehicle, but no other vehicles moved away, mainly because there was nowhere to move to. 

Rick contemplated his new assignment. So, you’re giving me a squad.  From the sound of the mission it would seem like a brigade would be more appropriate.

A Toyota finally yielded, allowing Ray to move into the left lane. Like I said, this is a very sensitive mission for a small, handpicked squad.

So, Rick countered, Where is my squad coming from?

You’ll have four cops in the squad.  Two are from ESU and two are from the Transit Bureau’s Homeless Outreach Unit.

The Homeless Outreach Unit! Rick snapped. Those ghouls are already half zombies from roaming those tunnels looking for homeless skels.

Just calm down, Ray cautioned. Regardless of your opinion of them as cops, no one knows the subway tunnels like Homeless Outreach, and knowledge of the tunnels is a key element of this mission.

Wonderful! Rick mumbled.

Ray tapped the briefcase sitting in the center of the front seat.  The personnel folders for your squad are in here.  Take a look at them.

Rick opened the first folder and studied the official NYPD photo attached to the inside cover. This guy looks insane.

Ray smiled as he slowly navigated across the bridge. You must be looking at Troy Monte. He was one of the senior cops in Homeless Outreach.

That’s impressive, Rick mused. It says he has fourteen years on the job and twelve of them have been in Homeless Outreach.  Just what I need – an expert at waking up homeless bums and offering them soup.

He knows the tunnels, Ray responded. And since the subways tunnels have basically been off limits for years, knowledge of them is a rare commodity.

Oh boy, Rick declared as he opened two folders simultaneously. "These two guys look like faces