The Broken Chain

By Ernest Duval Jr.

As the speaker of the House of Representatives, Joseph Adam is used to being in control. From his position he makes things happen, crushes his enemiesboth political and personaland enjoys all the many trappings of power. Life is good, because he has the authority to make it so.

When he first starts hearing reports of chaos and panic in the nations cities, he assumes that this too can be controlled and confined. Soon, no one will be in control, and he has no way to change that. The world, as he knows it, no longer exists.

The world is now under attack from a zombie virus.

Caught in the middle of the unthinkable, Joseph struggles to make sense of the new reality. Hes torn apart by anguish as one by one, his friends, family, neighbors, and peers fall victim to the virus. No one is safe, not even the elite and the powerful. As if that stress werent enough, hes just been informed that he is the highest-ranking elected official in the land.

As the newand potentially lastpresident of the United States, Joseph and his best friend, Jason Wright, must now do what needs to be done to save humanity.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Jul 31, 2014
• ISBN: 9781491741221

Ernest Duval Jr.

Once a small-business owner, Ernest Duval Jr. has now set his sights on a writing career and attends Pearl River Community College. He is married and has five children. Born and raised in a small town in southern Louisiana, he has lived in Mississippi since the 1990s.

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THE BROKEN CHAIN

Copyright © 2014 Ernest Duval Jr..

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

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ISBN: 978-1-4917-4121-4 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4917-4123-8 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4917-4122-1 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2014912494

iUniverse rev. date: 07/22/2014

CONTENTS

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Thanks to my wife for all her patience and support.

CHAPTER 1

G ood morning, Jason said as I met him at the gate of my backyard. Looking at him standing there reminded me of how the past several days had taken its toll on everyone. Although Jason still maintained the physique of his high school years, his face appeared weathered and worn beyond his age of 49 years. Seeing him made me wonder exactly how much older I appeared; as I was the same age as Jason.

Death was usually something you ran into several times in your lifetime; not normally several times in a day, but this was the new life that we had become accustomed to. Every day when we walked out our front doors we had to be on guard for what may be lurking around the corner. Normal worries of how to pay bills or getting to work on time no longer existed. The biggest worry was how to stay alive to see the sunrise of the next day.

I had always tried to keep my body in shape, but the past couple of weeks had taken its toll on me. Drained from a lack of sleep, due to countless nights having recurring nightmares and endless days guarding myself, my family, and my associates from them was wearing me down. I was constantly asking myself how long could we stay alive and what were we fighting for?

Joseph, are you all right? Jason asked, snapping me back to reality from my thoughts.

Yeah I was just thinking, I replied looking at him over the gate as I put my hand on the gate latch to open it. I didn’t want to bother him with how disturbing my thoughts had been.

I have got the trailer hooked to the truck to load the bull in and two guys to go with us, Jason said, as I walked out of my yard.

We walked over to the truck and I climbed into the passenger seat while Jason went around and climbed into the driver seat. Our two friends were sitting in the backseat in silence. I listened as the diesel engine cranked up. We drove out of the parking lot of the gas station and restaurant that were built next door to my home. As we pulled onto the highway I took notice of how desolate everything looked. There was no traffic, whatsoever, as far as I could see to my right or left.

Warm this morning isn’t it, Jason said as he looked over at me.

Yeah, I answered back. This kind of weather was normal for us in Mississippi, ice cold for a few days and then hot as hell right after; nothing like the winters up north which seemed to arrive and stay for months. Even more dramatic during winter in Mississippi are the hellish temperatures during the day and freezing temperatures at night.

It sure doesn’t feel like winter, I replied to Jason.

We need a good, long cold spell right about now. It would really knock out the mosquitoes that have started coming back out, he said looking at me, momentarily taking his eyes off the road.

Jason, watch out! I exclaimed as I saw something lying on the road at the foot of a small bridge by the guard rail. Slamming his foot on the brakes didn’t help; as I felt the front of the truck go up then back down and then heard the thumping sound of road kill hitting the bottom of the truck. Whatever it was that we ran over was still under the middle of the truck. I knew this because the back tires never rolled over it.

What did I hit? Jason asked as he opened his door. I opened my door at the same time to take a look at what was under the truck.

I don’t know but let’s take a look and see, I said as I stuck my foot out the door and let it drop to the ground below. This was my first mistake of the day, because something grabbed a hold of my ankle as soon as my foot touched the ground.

Son of a bitch, I exclaimed, not knowing what had grabbed a hold of me.

What’s wrong? Jason asked as he was stepping out of the truck on the other side.

Something has me by the foot, I said as I shook my foot relentlessly trying to break away from whatever was grasping my ankle. All the shaking did not help. The thing holding my ankle had a grasp like I had never felt before. It was like having my foot in a vice and it had no intentions of letting go.

Jason reached back into the truck and grabbed his rifle. It was not wise to leave home without weapons for protection under these circumstances. Guns were the most convenient as well as easily accessible since we lived in the country. Jason headed toward my side of the truck.

Shit, I heard Jason exclaim as he arrived on my side of the truck. Lowering my left foot out of the truck I now had 2 feet on the ground and was able to look down at my right foot. I watched Jason lower his rifle and take aim under the truck. Looking up at him I watched as his finger pulled back on the trigger and I listened as the rifle fired. The gunshot echoed in my head for a few moments. As I leaned back against the truck, the grasp of the predator slowly subsided and let go.

Let me see your foot, Jason said looking at me. He bent down to look, and untied my shoe. He pulled my shoe off, along with my sock, and I could feel a slight throbbing in my foot from the grip that my predator had on it. No bites or scratches, Jason exclaimed.

What the hell was that? I asked as I looked down at a hand poking out from under the truck, on my side.

One of them, Jason exclaimed, pointing down at the hand that I had already seen. I then reached down and put my sock and shoe back on and stepped outward from the truck. I could make out a shabby dress and a part of a face of what used to be a young lady, probably in her mid-20s. There wasn’t a lot left of her between the damage the truck had done and the rifle shell Jason had fired at close range. From the rotting flesh I could tell she had been dead approximately a week.

Not a good way to start the morning off, I said, looking at Jason. Let’s go, we will clean her up when we get back, I said as I climbed back into the truck.

Rabid dead, rabid dog, the zombie’s, living or dead, no matter what you called them; they were our enemies. Being good and loving human beings before or not, these things were all that was left of them after the sickness had gotten to them.

We drove to the next driveway, about a quarter of a mile, and turned onto the road to my father’s house. My property and my father’s property butted against one another, but our quarry was towards the front of this property by the highway. About 300 feet into the field I spotted our quarry; the most majestic bull my father had on the property. We pulled up about 20 feet away from the bull pinning him between the truck and the tree line. He couldn’t get into the tree line through the hog wire and barbed wire.

The bull is pretty docile isn’t he? Jason remarked as he shut the truck off.

The best bull my father ever bought, the most calm cool and collective as they would say, I replied to Jason’s remark. I’ll put a rope on him and bring it through the cattle trailer to pull him into it, I said as I took the rope in my hand and continued my remark, and you go around behind him and push him in.

The bull was so tame that I effortlessly put the rope around his neck and moved into the trailer passing the rope through the trailer window. I exited through the same window and passed the rope through a ring below the window outside of the trailer. I then began tugging on the rope with the bull moving forward as I tugged. The bull was very tame but still did not like close quarters. It then became a tug-of-war between me and the bull; and the bull was obviously winning. I did not realize the rope that was dragging the ground had made a noose around my right shoe. It was only moments before the stench hit me as I was still pulling against the weight of the bull. I glanced around and saw nothing that was creating the putrid odor; an unbearable stench. Suddenly my right foot was being yanked off the ground as the bull gave a sudden jerk to the rope. The bruising from the earlier predator on my foot now gave way to a new pain.

I could hear a thud in my ears as my head hit the ground. Clenching my eyes shut, the pain made the raunchy smell even more unbearable. Still holding my eyes closed I could see my father in my mind and