Guseyn Zarbaliyev, Period 2, 05/22/2023

Creativity & Fiction

Pretense to Fantiction -
I will be writing in Max Brooks's anthology interview style of his book “World War Z”. There is no real connection to any other stories in the book other than the specific Battle of Yonkers story (Page 93)

Ketchikan, Alaska [Outskirts]

[Alaska, America's authentic “last frontier”. Stunning landscapes, harsh winters - unforgiving yet beautiful. Many veterans of the Battle of Yonkers found refuge here or scattered across what little humanity controlled. Many veterans sought to distance themselves from remnants of society after what they experienced. Antonio Medina is another survivor of the Battle. As I approached him, he was waiting in solace at a local bar, but his demeanor was off-putting. An unsettling mix of calm alertness, rarely making eye contact as I began to question him]


What was the first thing you remember that day?

I… I remember flying past my old apartment that day, strapped into that C130 alongside 61 other men. I lived right by Yankee Stadium, across the Harlem River. It’s kind of funny, catching of glimpse of my old home, it filled me with an odd sense of nostalgia, a sort of another reason to fight, to take back my old place. It was the first time in a while that I had felt “hope”.

[He paused, seemingly letting the memories wash over him]

The embarrassing thing was, I’d never even been to Yonkers before the War, hell, I’d never even left the city my entire life. Still, after I left, I just couldn’t ever forget what happened here, how it all really, became… real for me, you know? Like how that Phalanx shitstorm threw everyone into a frenzy. God, that day man. It was my own neighbor that tried to bust into our apartment that day. The neighbor... damn, we'd known each other since we were kids. Played ball on the streets, and attended the same school. You'd think that bond would mean something, even amidst the confusion. But I guess fear does strange things to people, Now, he's.. I'm... I'm still here. I’m considered one of the lucky ones, who got out of the city in time before shit really hit the fan.

[Antonio took a long sip of his drink, eyes now fixated on the window looking outside]

Why did you join?

[Antonio looked up at me as if I had asked an obvious question then locked his gaze back to the window]

Cause I had to. And not some “I gotta save my city” bullshit. Nah, it was because I didn't have anything left. Not one damn thing. No flags waving in my mind, no hero complex, no thirst for vengeance. Lost contact with my mama, lost my home, and everything I had ever known. But I didn’t wanna give up, and the Army seemed like the only way I could protect myself. I’m surprised they even took in civ like me, kinda showed how shaken everyone and everything was.

[He paused, his gaze now focused on the roof, his head flung backward.]

As for the others with me? God, I wish I really knew. I just met these men hours earlier, barely learning their names, and the whole thing was a shit show from the beginning. They had us wearing bunker-buster gear from the Iraq War, Seal Team 6 kinda stuff. Between the heavy gear, the sound of Zack, and the C130, I couldn't even hear myself think, let alone start to break the ice with the men next to me.

When did the fighting begin?

I don’t remember when honestly, all I remember is the rose-colored sky burning the horizon. God if this shit happened at night I think it would've gone even worse, but I wouldn’t put it past those assholes in Honolulu if they did. What I do remember is where I was placed. We were airdropped right onto the I87. I remember the confusion when we landed. Not a single other soldier was in sight. Doesn’t make sense, right?

[Antonio hesitates for a moment, chuckling slightly, with his face attempting to mask his frustration and regret.]

Imagine, the military rolled out everything - Heavy artillery, Abrams tanks, goddam 50CALs, even the space-age Rods of God. All that firepower, all that might, but none were provided to our squad. And on top of that, they couldn’t put us on the goddamn roofs? Why were we here, in the open, vulnerable?

[Antonio remained silent, seemingly collecting his thoughts]

We were confident at first, just like everyone else. Barricades were set up as ordered, We were given standard-issue M4A1 rifles, and around 270 rounds each with 9 magazines. But once that first wave of Zack hit, we were terrified. I mean, I remember counting my 5.56 dwindle. 200 rounds…. 133 rounds… 45 rounds… and eventually 1 round. We practically ran out in minutes, but millions more fucking coming right at us…Nightmare fuel man, pure nightmare fuel. An unwavering wall of mindless flesh, acting purely off instinct.

[Antonio clenches his fist, the anger evident in his voice, finally looking directly at me.]

We were never given the full picture, dammit! We were left clueless! They didn’t even give us communications equipment - not that it even mattered. I heard that shit was useless under all the screams of the soldiers. Yet still, we paid the price for their incompetence, for their arrogance. I used to think it was just poor planning. But it hit us soon enough. We weren't there to take back the city, hell, we were barely there to fight. Here we were, raw recruits, stranded in the open, vulnerable, with only 2 months of training and no high command or backup in sight…

It became crystal clear. We weren't the heroes in this war. We were the fodder. It was all a distraction, you see. While we, green as grass, were left out there to die, the more experienced units were kept back, executing some grand plan, that didn't even fucking work! We were there to give them time, to divert Zack's attention, and lure them to the main forces. Those Honolulu assholes even covered it up…

How did you survive?

[Antonio scrunched his face at me]

By any means necessary. That’s what it means to live in this new world no? We were already being overrun by thing point. Zack as far as the eye could see, broke down our barriers.

[Antonio exhaled and sat back, pushing his empty glass away. He stared at me for a while, his dark eyes searching for understanding or empathy, perhaps both.]

I ran away. What else could I do? The government had failed us. To me, at that moment, not only had humanity lost, but it had abandoned me, abandoned us. I was supposed to be the one to “return faith to humanity”. What a sick joke, all of it. I didn't care about any of it anymore. I was running towards any escape, really. All I could think about was myself at that moment. That’s when one of them got a chunk outta my leg. I didn’t even feel it at first, just the pressure.

[Antonio pulls up his pants to reveal his prosthetic.]

When I fell down and looked at the blood pouring out, I… well, I thought I was done. Was ready to blow my brains out.

[Tapping his skull]

I had saved a single bullet for myself, you know? But, I saw another one of us, running to catch up to me, another runner. He was from the original 61, medical personnel. He patched me up as best he could. Well by patch, I mean ripping my goddam leg off. He dragged me into a store while we hid from Zack. For how long, I can't remember. All I could think about was how and why he saved me. Ironic isn’t it? Being saved at that moment, after I abandoned it all? It wasn't until then that I passed out from the blood loss. Apparently, we eventually made it onto a rooftop to where a chopper that was flying in, picking up any survivors it could find, long after the entire army fell. When I woke up, I was in a makeshift hospital. A few days passed. The doc said I was lucky. That the cold had saved my life. The virus, which slows down in colder temperatures, gives more time to the bitten to get treatment before turning. Saved my life, but not my leg. That and the soldier. I never found out his name.

What are you doing here?

Just... living, I guess. After everything, I didn't want to be near the military, hell even any real remnants of civilization. Alaska felt... safe, I suppose. It's a hard life, but a quiet one. Old habits die hard, I suppose.