INTRODUCTION
WHAT IS IT about being eaten alive that bugs everyone?
Wait. Scratch that. Never mind. I know the answer.
Flesh being torn away from bone. Appendages being removed with no anesthetic. Perhaps spending the last moments of your existence watching your entrails being removed and devoured by total strangers. Its probably kind of stinky, too.
Yeah, I guess thats why being eaten alive can be a real bummer.
So what is the appeal and importance of the zombie genre in the new millennium? Perhaps its importance is in two key concepts.
Lets start with our fellow citizens both in the U.S. and in the world. It could be argued that an artificial disconnect has been implemented by the overly commercialized U.S. through electronic media like Internet, wi-fi, and video games. These forms of entertainment (distraction?) put us in our own virtual world for hours at a time. The price, though, is that it separates us from our families, friends, and potential new amigos. More in a moment.
The second is the cynical perception of the role of the U.S. military in responding to (creating?) the zombie apocalypse. In this new millennium, a second renaissance, so to speak, is occurring. Those same people spending time away from their families and friends are sharing reliable information about global happenings. It has been dubbed an information war, a struggle between forces who are trying to enlighten and those trying to enslave. Though many might deny it, there is credible information in regards to U.S. government involvement, planning, and execution of national emergencies in an effort to command and control the populace. Whether its bird flu, anthrax, terrorists, or smallpox, the government has already put in our heads that a biological attack was inevitable, and we should all be afraid. Smallpox is all but eradicated, with the exception of several vials at Fort Dietrich. For those Internet junkies out there, simply doing a Google search of Fort Dietrich brings up some interesting hits on the aerosol dispersal of pathogens.
So why are these two concepts important and a key to the re-emergence of zombie popularity? A zombie apocalypse would do something that some might claim we have forgotten how to do: interact and work together with other people. Suddenly, the stranger across the street becomes your best friend. The crazy man who everyone thought was a terrorist because he had a gun collection becomes an asset. And now you have to work with your rival to fight a common enemy. The zombie apocalypse, as terrible as it seems, actually brings people together.
Since September 2001, not only the United States, but the world, has not been the same. And though the five-year mark has passed since that despicable day, the perception of the events of that day have changed drastically. People are becoming more and more skeptical by the day about the government version of the events. And with the reputation of Fort Dietrich, a zombie apocalypse by an artificially manufactured virus is something that is within the realm of possibility.
Z.A. Rechts Plague of the Dead brings these two themes together with fantastic precision and magnificent eloquence. I have to say Im really rather envious of the attention to detail and his patience in telling his story. Z.A. Recht has a clear vision of the zombie apocalypse and communicates it with all the details, gore, and struggle for survival that every zombie fan wants and needs. It is an awesome addition to the ever-growing zombie universe.
My fellow zombie fan, you have done yourself a great favor in purchasing this book. It is now time to gird up your loins for one of the best zombie adventures out today. Rest assured the eating, disemboweling, and dismembering are only a product of your imagination.
Lets just hope the boys and girls at Fort Dietrich dont get any funny ideas.
Sincerely,
Bowie V. Ibarra
PART ONE: SMOKE
START INTERCEPT_
CONTINUE INTERCEPT
ADDITIONAL DATA INCOMING_
INTERCEPT COMPLETE_
Mombasa Airstrip
December 09, 2006
1032 hrs_
A LONE FIGURE was running towards the control tower, waving his arms. In the tower, a tall man held a pair of binoculars to his face, focusing on the man. He frowned.
What the hell is that guy doing? said Mbutu Ngasy to one of his co-workers. Call security. Get him off the runway.
As the shift director of air traffic control, Mbutu was responsible for the smooth takeoffs and landings at the Mombasa regional airport. The rogue figure was dead-center on the main runway, blocking traffic.
Mbutu flicked on his radio and said, Flight 931, hold position. Weve got a trespasser on the ground, over.
Roger, control. Holding pattern, over, came the static-laced reply.
Below the tower, Mbutu could see two security vehicles powering through the dirt alongside the runway, blue lights flashing. They slowed as they got near the man and the man then stopped in front of them, gesturing wildly at the tree line where he had originally emerged. Mbutu raised the binoculars again and focused them beyond the security detail and trespasser, towards the tree line, curious as to what the man was so excited about.
Fifty yards further, four more people had appeared and were walking steadily towards the group on the runway. Mbutu grimaced, holding the radio microphone to his lips.
Got four more coming your way out of the trees, security. What is this, a party? Over.
We see em.
One of the security vehicles peeled off from the other, heading towards the four new figures. Behind it, the lone trespasser was being placed in handcuffs. He wasnt resisting.
Mbutu watched the other vehicle as it pulled to a stop in front of the four figures. He saw the two guards climb out of the truck. They held up their hands, pointing at the woods, ordering the trespassers to go back the way they came. However, the trespassers continued to advance.
Mbutu saw one of the guards take a step back, shaking his head in disbelief as he drew his pistol. The other guard soon did the same. Though Mbutu couldnt hear the words being spoken, he imagined one of the four trespassers had made a threat or two.
The gunshots-unlike mere spoken words-were easily audible, echoing across the runway. Mbutu saw the flashes of fire as the guards fired their pistols, then saw the sprays of blood popping from the backs of the victims.
Then his jaw dropped open in awe.
The four trespassers kept coming.
The guards were firing quickly now. Mbutu saw one of them drop an empty magazine to make room for a fresh one. One of the trespassers took a round to the forehead and dropped to the ground, twitching. The other three were almost on top of the guards, who had backed up against their own truck, cut off from escape.
