Zack Don’t Surf

Date: May 25, 20–
Time: 1737 hours
Sit Rep: Small Special ops detachment sent in to recon and secure situation inside Baghdad. All other Mechanized, Airborne, and regular Infantry are to move outside of city, secure perimeter. Orders stand to eliminate ANY trying to escape city; Living or Dead.

The rotor wash of a passing Blackhawk blanketed Meaker and his squad. The special forces team didn’t even look up as the M-134D Mini-guns on each sides of the passing helo lit up, raining thirty brass shells a second down on the empty,sandy streets of what was once Baghdad. All five of the men were fatigued, resting against the walls in a thin alleyway. Both ends were plugged with vehicle parts and debris, a makeshift barricade that did the trick, only if for awhile. In the distance, past the shooting and the hungry moans of the dead, screams of children could be heard coming from a school that had been built during ” Bush’s war”.

They all tried to ignore them.

“Sir if I may say so, this mission is Fubar”

Meaker cracked a smile ” No miles, no you may not”

Miles wasn’t Special Forces, Miles was a tanker, a loader on an M1-A2 Abrams tank. Miles’ Tank commander had been bitten while spotting for the gunner, and later that day turned on the rest of the crew. Miles had escaped leaving the corpse filled husk of the tank behind him till Meaker and his squad had picked him up on the outskirts of Baghdad.

” Why are you guys even here anyway? My units orders were to make sure nothing got out of the city. That means you guys are trapped in here with Zack.”

“Classified, now shut up and watch your damn sector, there’s plenty of room outside the barricade where you can talk all you want”. Meaker looked over his map, the sun was beginning to set by the time he folded it back up and placed it into his map pouch.

” Alright, get your shit ready. We are leaving in five”

By the time the five soldiers had begun to move the Zombies outside the barricades had given up their attempt to bash through. There were puddles of blood everywhere, but very few bodies. Meaker and his squad moved down the street, staying away from any holes or possible ambush points from a greedy Z. Meaker quickly and silently raised a closed fist, the other three in his squad halted immediately while Miles shuffled an extra step before stopping.

Ten seconds passed…

The Green berets slowly dropped to one knee, Miles following quickly after. Weapons pointed in every direction.

Ten more seconds dragged by…

Meaker lowered his fist and hesitantly waved his open palm forward signaling a cautious advance when a single shot screamed from a building one hundred yards away knocking him on the ground.

A volley of bullets ripped through the air in response of the snipers shot. Smith, the automatic machine gunner of the squad, fired at the building where the round had come from; Without hesitation the other two dragged Meaker into cover behind a car. Just as they set him down a bloody arm reached through the rolled down window of the car and grabbed Hurst ,The medic of the group. Before long the Z inside had two bullets in its head.

Hurst bent down to check his squad leader while Garner joined in firing at the building, which now had a rifle in every window shooting back at the five soldiers.

” God damn it I’m fine Hurst get off and fire at the bastards!”

” No can do sarge, you know I gotta plug this wound before-”

Hurst pulled the round from Meakers body armor, the bullet was deformed from the impact against the tough Kevlar.

” I told you I was fine, you think ive never been shot before?” The Sergeant said standing up and looking over the car towards the building

” Your one lucky son of a bitch sarge”

” No Hurst , I’m just the toughest son of a bitch alive!” Meaker said with a smile, he’d rather be getting shot at than fighting the dead any day.
Meaker looked to his right at Miles ” Miles, cover our rear, I don’t want none of those bastards flanking us”. Miles flinched at the pinging of bullets as they smashed into his cover while offering a shaky thumbs up.

The squad soon had advanced to the building. The Iraqis inside were running low on ammunition, firing in a panic, they hit nothing but dirt and air; on the flip side the Special Forces team was picking them off with expert marksmanship. Meaker signaled Smith and Garner to move inside the building. The two nodded and rushed into the the door, using textbook maneuvers they quickly cleared the first floor with no shots fired. The inside of the building suddenly lit up from an explosion being followed by dead silence. Meaker cursed, ” Most likely a booby trap the cowards… Hurst follow me in, they might need a medic.”

” Wilco” Hurst replied before dashing after the Sergeant.

The inside of the building was a mess, bodies were everywhere, some had clearly been infected before they had been given a bullet to the brain. Meaker flipped on his flashlight and immediately wished he hadn’t. The ground was littered with bodies, the Iraqis on the second floor had been fighting the infestation for hours before his squad had even arrived. ” Jesus Christ!” Hurst said covering his mouth with one hand.
” Yeah… just cover the door” Meaker said uneasy. He stepped over body’s slowly so as to not be taken off guard by any that were still ” alive” before reaching a stairwell, there he could clearly see the bodies of his two squad mates plastered against the adjacent wall. Blown to hell by a claymore Anti-Personnel mine. He slowly stepped up the stairs, making sure not to trigger any more traps. Meaker pressed his ear against the door as he reached the top, he could hear the Iraqis shifting around and whispering on the other side.

Meaker twisted the door knob and chucked a flash bang grenade inside before re shutting the door. He waited for the bang, and rolled inside the door. The second floor of the building had once been some kind of office, computers were now on the floor to make use of space. The desks were piled with supplies, food and ammunition, almost as if the men inside knew the dead would rise.

7.62mm rounds ripped through the desk Meaker hid behind missing his face by inches, an Iraqi was firing blind in a panic, he managed to hit two of his own team before the gun went dry with a final click. The Sergeant dove over the desk and pressed the barrel of his rifle to the spine of the man before pulling the trigger. A spray of blood shot out of the other side of him from the force of the round ripping through his body. Meaker grabbed on to the dying man, his lower half completely limp beneath his weight, using him to shield his left side Meaker raised his rifle and pumped three shots into a woman wielding an AK-47. the woman dropped to the ground still holding the weapon. her head making a dull thud against the floor before a small sigh escaped her lips for the final time. The man Meaker was using to shield him let out a scream in pain, bullets began to cut through his body in an attempt to hit Meaker; after four shots his body was Swiss cheese and Meaker felt that familiar sharp pain in his left ribcage before dropping the now lifeless body and diving out of the path of more AK rounds.

He placed his hand on his side, the round had punctured his armor and cracked two of his ribs. He then heard the voice of a young boy, no doubt scared out of his mind. ” Did… did I get him?” the boy asked in Arabic, his voice trembling with fear. Meaker peaked over his cover to see a teenager no older than fourteen holding an AK. The room was dark from the lack of power to the city, but Meaker could see the boy clearly with his Night vision. He slowly crept around his cover, using the dark to make an advance before rushing the boy. He hit the rifle out of the boys hands and raised his rifle to the boys forehead. The boy blinked once, and was dead.

Meaker walked down the stairs before looking at Hurst. ” so what happened?” Hurst asked quickly.

” well I got you a present” Meaker said pointing at the wound on his side

” you did that for me sarge? How thoughtfull of you” Hurst said sarcastically trying to bring some light to the mood.

Meaker looked at his feet for a second and managed to half smile before he noticed Miles standing behind Hurst with that empty look in his eyes, right before he bit him.

12 Responses to “Zack Don’t Surf”


  • I have used this title in my head at least a dozen times. I wish I’d said it out loud to a witness so that I could claim credit.

    I’m still dying to know how Meaker got to the Zone after being all over the place like he has been.

    Are we supposed to assume he’s on an Alpha Team? That might require a whole new site.

  • Yeah, by now the character just about needs his own time line.

  • This story is supposed to take place before the infection got to the U.S. I imagine that if a breakout of this magnitude actually were to occure our Special forces teams would be very busy trying to contain the mess from the public. its easy to say that a squad leader in a SF unit, would be all over the place trying to help quarentine hot spots, exfiltrating people of importance, and helping arm and train local militias like they already do. I dont think the mission would change much because of the new enemy, but Theyd most certanly be more active.

  • I’m pretty sure that the whole reason that Max Brooks invented the concepts of the Alpha Teams in WWZ–and mentioned them all of about twice–was so that he could use the word “Kyrgyzstan” in a sentence.

    I know that’s the reason I did it.

    There’s something fun about writing a sentence that you know can never be read aloud by humans.

    Now let’s not make this a contest…

  • John, when you go back to revise, be sure to edit your dialog from apostrophe-space-small letter to “Capital.

  • Alpha teams are real, Max Brooks didn’t Invent SF A teams; But maybe thats because I’m thinking of the real version and not the Max brooks version.

  • Oopsie. He mentions them and that was the first time I’d heard of them. They had phenomenal success in slowing the plague until Kyrgyzstan. Kyrgyzstan, Kyrgyzstan, Kyrgyzstan, Kyrgyzstan, Kyrgyzstan. Not only can I not say it, my fingers can’t even type it. The UN needs to ship that country a planeload of vowels.

  • Special Forces Alpha Teams are the guys who, in Operation Iraqi Freedom a squad of 12 managed to gain control of an area as big as 2000 square miles, gaining over 200 kills per man. maybe my math is wrong? or America kicks ass one or the other.

  • I really liked the pacing of this one and the three way standoff of Zombies vs. Spec Ops vs. Insurgents was pretty hectic. If anything could bring those two sides together you would think it would be the Zombocalypse.

    I noticed the story has been upgraded to edited, but there are still errors. Mainly a lack of punctuation in more than a few places. It’s minor stuff but important none the less.

    I’m also concerned about the lack of impact of so many deaths, espescailly so many relatively senseless deaths. The action was great. What I want to know is: where is the emotional fall out? Even in the coldest person, this kind of violence would evoke some kind of emotional response. Where is it?

    Death is a big deal. It’s huge. In the grand scheme of things it’s probably the biggest of the big. It’s consequences should be equally great.

    I’m reminded of Cint Eastwood’s famous quote from Unforgiven, “It’s a hell of a thing, killing a man. Take away all he’s got and all he’s ever gonna have.”

  • I edited it a little bit. if theres any other errors Im over lookig them and will need them to be pointed out before i see them. Ill also add a little bit concerning the impact of the squad casualties. in the heat of batle, one has ittle time to dwell upon his fallen comrades, it is only after in the silence of the night do their screams haunt us. -” most likely used” im sure someone somewhere said something like that, or i made it up i dont know.

  • i like sgt. Meakers stories i am really big into the military i am thinking about forming a new problem in Zyracuse but i am going to talk to Mr. Larham first cause it will have a pretty big impact on the way we do things in the stories

  • I actually wasn’t referring to “squad casualties”, I was talking about the effects of killing all those people. That’s the fallout I was interested in.

    The guy just wasted three people, most likely a family, he has to be at least shook up a bit.

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