Zombie Crusade Snapshots: Volume I Page 3

  Aviel barked out instructions, “Sophie, you cover the car with the family. Lina, you watch the two people on the ground beyond the boy’s father. Mick, you keep your eyes on the boy. Any of them make any sudden move, you shoot!”

  The wary former soldier slowly opened his door and stepped away from the Jeep, keeping his eyes on the man who continued to hold the unresponsive woman in his arms. He followed the boy over to the people he accurately assumed were the distraught youth’s parents. Aviel had been in enough combat to know that the woman was dead or very close to it, her blood drenching her husband’s clothes as thoroughly as her own. The man was in shock, so Aviel moved forward to check on the two people lying beyond the grieving Palestinian. He found two male corpses, both with crushed skulls, and a gore-crusted rock resting between the bodies. After nudging each dead man with his toe and taking a good look around the immediate area lit by the headlights of the Jeep, Aviel turned back to the husband and son weeping over the dead woman. The boy’s story seemed to be legitimate.

  Suddenly he heard screams coming from the vehicle containing the family he’d noticed peering out at him from the second car of the small convoy. Aviel pulled his flashlight from a cargo pocket in his pants and turned the powerful beam in the direction of the noise. The passenger door was now open, and some sort of struggle was taking place in the front seat. As he was trying to decide what to do next, he heard Lina shout for Sophie. He looked back to see his daughter trotting to the vehicle from which the screams were emanating. With the natural instinct of a parent, Aviel immediately followed Sophie, catching up to her just as they arrived at the car and saw the fight taking place within.

  As the two small children cried hysterically from their car seats, a young woman was screaming for help as she struggled to keep a strange-looking man from biting her. She had a tight grip around the skinny man’s throat and was pushing back with all her might. He was moaning and clawing at her arms, but with the desperate strength of a mother fighting to protect her kids, she continued to hold the crazed attacker at bay while she locked eyes with Sophie and cried out for help. Aviel stirred to action when he realized that his daughter was about to attempt a head shot on the rabid man. With the reports of the virus being spread through bites, the cagey old warrior jumped in beside the beleaguered mother, stuck his Jericho pistol directly in the man’s mouth, and promptly blew his brains all over the inside of the windshield.

  The roar of the gunshot inside the vehicle was mind-numbing, and it briefly shocked the woman and her children into a stunned silence until the mother released a shriek and turned her fists on Aviel. She shouted in Hebrew at the bewildered rescuer, accusing him of murdering her husband as she pummeled him about the head and shoulders. Aviel leapt from the vehicle to escape the irrational wrath of the traumatized woman only to find himself staring at the gore-covered man he’d left holding the bloody mother of the boy from the road, brandishing the death-rock in his hands as he raced toward the car. Now Aviel was angry, and he pointed the pistol directly at the charging Palestinian’s head as he subconsciously gave his attacker three more steps before he would pull the trigger.

  Suddenly the man went down in a heap as his son caught up to him and tackled him from behind. Aviel wasted no time as he turned to Sophie and began shoving her back to the car while scolding her for putting them in such a dangerous situation. He pushed his daughter into the back seat and slammed the door, then he climbed behind the wheel and spun the Jeep around toward the south once more. Just as he completed the turn the boy came running down the road again, pleading for them to stop with his hands held above his head and tears continuing to streak down his cheeks. Aviel cursed as he slammed on the brakes and rolled down his window.

  “What do you want from us?” he shouted at the young teen.

  “Please,” the traumatized boy stammered, “we’ll all die out here if you leave us.”

  “No,” Aviel sternly explained, “your family will force me to kill them if I stay here.”

  The youth shook his head and quickly argued, “My father thought you were hurting his sister in the car; that’s why he was running at you with the rock. Father crushed Nidal’s head after he bit my mother, then Ratib tried to help Nidal and father hit him too. I looked in my aunt’s car, I know my uncle had turned into one of the monsters; he was bitten this morning in Jerusalem. Please, my father will know that you saved his sister and nieces. Please, please, just stay a moment longer.”

  Sophie called out from the back seat, her voice heavy with concern, “Abi, he’s just a child . . . ”

  Aviel shook his head in frustration and turned the vehicle around without saying a word. The Jeep’s headlights quickly covered the car where the boy’s father was helping his sister remove the two children from their car seats. As soon as the girls were huddled with their mother at the edge of the road the man held his hands above his head and slowly approached the Jeep with a grimace on his face. He stopped ten meters away and beckoned, “Zafir, come join your father.” When the boy was by his side, he finally called out to the occupants of the vehicle, “My name is Mubin. I’m sorry I threatened you with the rock; now I know that Jamel had become one of those monsters. Please, we need your help. My wife has just died.”

  Sophie opened her door, followed by Mick. Aviel cursed and got out of the Jeep to talk to the Palestinian. Sophie approached the blood-drenched man with her pistol in hand, but it was pointed at the ground.

  “Have you been injured? Are you bitten?” she carefully inquired.

  A look of alarm crossed the man’s face before he explained, “No, no, no, I’m not hurt. I just held my wife as she died; none of this is my blood.”

  Aviel interrupted, “What about the rest of your family? Any of them bitten?”

  “No, I swear it; my wife is dead because I allowed Nidal to come with us. Have any of you been bitten?”

  “No,” Aviel frowned, “no, we haven’t encountered any infected people yet.”

  Mubin released a sigh of relief as he finally lowered his hands a bit and declared, “Nidal was bitten in the clinic where he worked. Several people had come in yesterday with bite wounds.”

  “You are from Jerusalem?” Sophie asked with a hint of alarm.

  Mubin nodded, “Yes, the Arab quarter. We decided to try to leave the city before it was too late.”

  “What did you plan to do when you reached the checkpoint outside Ein Gedi?” Aviel wondered.

  “I was going to tell them that we were trying to join some Bedouin friends in the hills for a camping trip.”

  Aviel couldn’t hide his disbelief; he dropped his chin, raised his eyebrows, and sternly remarked, “That’s the worst excuse I’ve ever heard.”

  Mubin shook his head, “Well, we had to try. If they forced us to turn back we were going to stop a few miles away and continue south on foot.”

  Sophie was incredulous. “How did you plan to survive the heat until tomorrow night?”

  Mubin carefully lowered his hands the rest of the way to his side and offered, “We had to try to escape the city. Even the towns and villages aren’t safe.”

  “Why not just stay locked up in your home?” Aviel asked, his tone softening. “You know the IDF and the police will eventually contain the spread of this virus.”

  Mubin sadly shook his head, “No, sir, they won’t. The IDF is good, the best, but if the Americans are losing their Capitol after bringing a few bitten Marines to a city hospital, why do you believe the IDF can stop the spread of the virus when people in the Arab quarter are showing up at clinics with bite wounds? How many people are hiding at home? How many are treating the injuries like any other animal bite and just going on with their business after cleaning the wound? No, we’re not safe at home.”

  Finally all of the adults turned to see Mick talking to Zafir, forcing the boy to take a bottle of water and offering him tissues to clean his face up a bit. The young American was explaining, “My name’s Michael, but my friends call me Mic
k. You know the Rolling Stones?”

  After watching the two youngsters for a moment, Aviel realized he couldn’t just leave these traumatized people out here in the desert to die the next day. His first thought was to share some supplies with them; he could give them a tarp with which they could construct a crude shelter if they were determined not to return to the city after all they had suffered here on the side of the road. Then he realized that he would probably lose the respect of his daughter and grandson forever if he just left two grieving adults and three children to their fates along the shore of the Dead Sea. Suddenly he heard Mick shout with alarm, “Stop right there!”

  Aviel and the others looked beyond the teen to see the dead mother stumbling forward into the light, still soaked in blood but staring straight ahead with large, black eyes and quietly moaning as she moved toward the two boys. Mick had taken a shooter’s stance and was pointing his pistol right at the woman who’d been left for dead fifteen minutes earlier. Then his arm was knocked aside by Zafir, who shouted for his father and took a hesitating step toward his mother.

  Mubin shouted, “No! Come to me, Zafir!”

  The boy turned to Mick and pleaded, “Don’t shoot her . . . maybe we can help her.” Then he moved to his father’s side as Aviel and Sophie commanded Mick to retreat as well. Mubin’s sister and her children joined the group as they watched the woman they had all been sure was dead a few minutes earlier continue to lurch in their direction.

  “Rabah,” Mubin called out in a shaky voice, “Rabah, you are hurt. You must lie down.”

  The creature that had been Mubin’s wife gave no indication that she could hear anything, and the only sign of pain from her was the plaintive moaning that accompanied every step she took. Zafir was crying again, pleading with his father to do something to help his mother, until his aunt stepped over and slapped her brother in the face. “You know what has happened!” she screamed. “Rabah has become one of those creatures, just like Abbas did! She will kill you and Zafir if you go to her. Have the Israelis shoot her, now!”

  Mubin looked desperately at Aviel, “What can we do?”

  The confident water-company executive was visibly rattled; he could only shake his head as he muttered, “I don’t know any more than you do.”

  Sophie took charge of the situation, “Abi, take these people over to the Jeep and get them some food and water. I’ll take care of the woman. As a mother, I know it is what she would want.”

  Aviel gritted his teeth, “No, Sophie, no, you take them to the Jeep and I will take care of this. Go on, and take Mick with you.”

  Mubin was now weeping along with his son, but offered no resistance as Sophie turned them from the approaching creature and led them away from what had to be done. When they reached the side of the Jeep they all jumped when the surprisingly loud crack of a single gunshot shattered the night. Sophie sent Mick back to help her father drag the body away, then she helped Lina pull out food and water for the grieving family.

  A few minutes later Aviel and Mick returned to the vehicle, where they both washed their hands before accepting bottled water and paper towels to wipe the sweat from their faces. Sophie gave her father time to compose himself before gently asking what he planned to do.

  Looking every one of his sixty-three years, Aviel calmly studied the huddled family and gently inquired, “If I can get you past the checkpoint, do you have anywhere to go?”

  Sadly, Mubin looked at the ground and slowly shook his head. Aviel nodded as if he already knew what the answer to his question would be. “All right, I will try to get you through the checkpoint by claiming that you work for me in Jerusalem. You are one of the drivers for our water company, and you do yard-work for me and other employees. This is your wife, and all these kids are your children. Their IDs were left behind in the rush to accept my offer to follow us to Ein Gedi, where I want you to work on my house. Your son has become best friends with my grandson. All of you need to change into clean clothes and wash yourselves before we leave here. Do you agree to my plan?”

  Mubin and his sister nodded their approval with the first signs of hope the Israelis had seen in their faces since responding to Zafir’s pleas for help.

  Tentatively, the woman asked, “Do you actually have a place for us to stay in Ein Gedi?”

  Lina smiled and patted her on the shoulder, “You’ll stay with us tonight. Tomorrow we’ll find you a place.”

  “All right,” Aviel declared, “let’s get you folks cleaned up and on the road.”

  * * *

  An hour later an IDF sergeant waved the Jeep and car to the side of the highway two hundred meters short of the actual checkpoint and barked, “National emergency, sir! Everyone has been ordered to remain in their homes until the IDF and police have the situation under control.”

  Aviel looked nonplussed as he replied, “We are going home to Ein Gedi, sergeant.

  The soldier frowned, “Your license plate tells me you live somewhere else.”

  Aviel shrugged, “Yes, we have a home in Ma’ aleh too. My work with the Ein Gedi water company requires me to be close to the cities, but most of my life has been lived in the kibbutz. I served with the Nahal paratroopers through three wars if you really want me to dig out my paperwork; you know they don’t accept anyone but kibbutz-men.”

  The sergeant smiled, “You in Jerusalem in ’67?”

  “Still have the scars from a Jordanian AK; I can take off my shirt and show you if you need proof.”

  The soldier chuckled, “No, sir, that won’t be necessary. I hope you’re armed; 90 is usually one of the safest roads but this is a strange night. The Bedouins are taking to the hills.”

  “Of course we’re armed, but the Bedouins are not our enemies.”

  “No, sir, but if half the rumors flying around tonight are true, people may become desperate and do strange things.”

  Aviel nodded, “I’ll keep that in mind, Sergeant.

  Twice they had been forced to slow as they saw sheep or goats near the highway in the distance, probably strays from the herds being gathered by the restless Bedouins who were taking their chances in their traditional habitat instead of waiting for the virus to find them in their government-built villages. Plenty of the tribesmen had willingly served in the IDF, many of them as elite trackers, and regardless of the sergeant’s warning about the desert-wanderers Aviel was certain he had nothing to fear from the Bedouins this night or any other.

  “Are the people in the other car with you?” the sergeant asked in a low voice.

  “Yes,” Aviel explained, “an employee of mine and his family. He’s coming along to help me make repairs on our family’s home in the village. I’ve really let things go the past couple of years, and we plan on making it our primary residence again.”

  The sergeant almost whispered, “They’re Palestinians?”

  “Yes, but they’re fine. He’s worked for me a long time, and his son is my grandson’s best friend.”

  The sergeant just shrugged and doubtfully remarked, “The lieutenant isn’t going to like this. I’m going to pass both of you ahead to where the rest of the squad will look you over.”

  “Thanks, sergeant,” Aviel replied, “I’m sure it will be fine.”

  The soldier’s frown indicated that he didn’t share Aviel’s enthusiasm, but he waved the two vehicles forward as he used a small radio attached to his shoulder to alert the soldiers ahead.

  The lights of the checkpoint illuminated the approach of the two vehicles, and compared to the last roadblock they’d seen going up on Highway 1, this one looked as if the government was preparing for an attack. Several armored vehicles were deployed near the highway, including a menacing-looking Merkava tank dug in with its main gun pointed north. Aviel pulled the Jeep carefully to a stop as several soldiers surrounded the vehicle while others stood behind the IDF truck they were using to halt traffic. A tough-looking lieutenant came to the driver’s side window and asked where they were going. When told of their des
tination he shook his head with frustration and brusquely asked, “Didn’t you hear the order to remain in your home tonight?”

  Aviel calmly explained, “Yes, we did, but we consider our home to be Ein Gedi. We only keep a house near Jerusalem for my work with the mineral water company. One of my employees and his family are in the car behind, he’s coming down here to do home repairs for me.”

  The haggard-looking lieutenant nodded and sighed, then turned toward the men at the roadblock and shouted, “Avy? You grew up in Ein Gedi?”

  A voice floated back from the other side of the truck, “Yeah, why?”

  “I need to you to come here and identify these people for me.”

  A burly sergeant with black-stubble covering his face trotted up to the Jeep and looked inside before pushing the officer’s flashlight aside so it wasn’t glaring into the occupant’s eyes. He needed only a second before turning back to the lieutenant, “Yeah, they’re Ein Gedi born and raised.”

  “Are you certain?” the officer demanded.

  “Yeah, this is my Uncle Aviel and his family. He’s fought in three of our wars and been wounded twice. Now he works for the water company. You still think you need to stop my war-hero uncle, the man I was named after, from going home?”

  The lieutenant responded with an annoyed tone, “Sorry, how was I supposed to know he’s your uncle?”

  He looked back into the Jeep, “I’m sorry, sir. It’s been a rough night and I’m worried about my family.”

  Aviel assumed a paternal tone as he replied, “No apology necessary, son. From what I can tell, everyone is having a rough night. Where is your family?”