What Remains: The Outbreak

by Tyler Barrett

  Her gray blouse showed three holes where the bullets had hit her, but she was still moving. She got up; Parker walked over and put a bullet in her head. Her body fell to the ground. He looked back to the mob that was pouring out of the door. Their numbers lessened, but there was still a decent amount left. The mob still pushed forward towards the men.

  Someone threw a grenade at the group hoping to stop them. The explosion jarred the group, some were hit directly by the shrapnel, but most fell, knocked to their feet. Parker scanned the rest of the roof making sure there weren’t any more around. He walked up to the soldier who was on the ground; he was dead.

  Parker looked back at the group and started to fire at some of them. The mob had just overtaken the two men that were on the opposite side of the roof. Their screams echoed across the roof, and Parker saw that it was already down to him and two other soldiers. The helicopter was his only hope.

  He turned to run towards it but was cut off by the mob, and several went after him. He fired at them but again did no damage. He remembered the woman and aimed for their heads. He missed several shots but brought down the civilians that had broken away from the mob and come after him. The helicopter started to take off at that moment, and Parker’s hope with it.

  The helicopter didn’t make it far before it pitched, making its final descent. Parker turned back towards the fight, seeing only about twenty left in the mob. He aimed and shot down several more. The other two men got a few lucky shots themselves but started backing up towards the edge of the roof. They started to fire wildly into the group and scored a couple of lucky shots.

  Parker ran out of ammo for his rifle, so he unclipped his sidearm pistol and pulled it out. The two men stopped, realizing that they were running out of room, and surrounded. Parker carefully aimed and took down two more, leaving seven left. One of the two remaining soldiers tried to run past the group, but they grabbed hold of his vest and pulled him into the group.

  His scream pierced the air but quickly drowned out by the sound of his flesh ripping. The other soldier stood there, firing at the group until he was empty as well. He got a lucky shot off and killed one more. He grabbed a grenade from his vest, pulling the pin, and leaned back to toss it. Mid toss an arm shot up and grabbed the man’s leg pulling him down.

  Parker jumped out of the way and ducked behind the container. The blast shook the container but didn’t take any damage. He got up and looked around the side of the container. Nothing was moving; a silence installed itself on the rooftop. He walked towards the last part of the group making sure they were dead.

  None of them moved, and Parker approached them cautiously. He kicked the first one he came to, but it did not move. He looked over the rooftop, at the carnage, he felt lost and helpless. The silence after the battle enveloped him; the only sound was his over-paced heartbeat. It overpowered his senses. He moved back from the bodies, his breathing fast, and his eyesight blurring around the edges.

  The tunnel vision made it hard to focus on one thing. Parker looked back at the first dead soldier he found. It was at that moment he realized that it was his best friend, Matt. His friend stared at back at him with dead eyes. The eyes; something was wrong with his eyes; they were beginning to fill with blood. He looked at his friend and knelt next to him, closing his dead eyes.

  Parker covered his mouth with his hand and began to think about all the times they had hung out together back home. They both lived in the same neighborhood and often visited each other to go fishing together. He whispered to Matt, “I’m sorry man. I wasn’t here to save you…I just…Oh god, I’m sorry.”

  Parker felt the release of emotions, the one that he had been trained so well to hide. Tears rolled down his face, warm and wet. He looked again at his friend, brushing away the tears in his eyes. Matt’s eyes were open again. Parker didn’t understand what was happening; he had just closed his friend’s eyes. Matt’s eyes focused on Parker, and soon his fingers were moving again.

  Parker stood up and took a step back. “Matt?” Parker asked unsure still what he was seeing. “Are you ok, buddy?”

  Matt didn’t answer. Instead, he slowly rose up to a standing position. His eyes never once left Parker. Well, at least, that’s what Parker thought; Matt’s eyes were completely red now filled with blood. Matt looked possessed, and Parker instinctively put his hand on his sidearm. “Hey man, look, you were dead…how are you up and moving?”

  Matt gave no reply again. He moved closer to Parker, mouth agape. Parker drew his sidearm up and aimed at his friend. “Stay back Matt! I mean it! I don’t want to hurt you, man.”

  Matt showed no sign of stopping or if he even understood what Parker was saying. He seemed intent on Parker. He was closing the gap and fast; Matt was now only ten feet away. Parker raised his gun aiming at his friend’s head; he closed his eyes and squeezed the trigger. He felt the force of the gun push against his arm and the sound of the spent casing hit the ground.

  The reality of what he had just done hit him. He opened his eyes slowly, daring to peek at the carnage. He looked at the gun in his hand, now an instrument of ruin. He slipped it back into his holster and looked at his friend again. The hole in his head had splattered even more gore onto the rooftop. He now wept, staring at his friend.

  He had been forced to kill his friend, he knew that, but he wished there was some other way that he didn’t have to. He felt dirty; changed. This wasn’t the first time he had shot and killed a person. Parker had never shot someone that he knew, however. It wasn’t another hurdle you could just easily overcome.

  His thoughts quickly became jumbled; maybe he should put a bullet through all their heads to make sure they wouldn’t end up like Matt. Could he bear to do that; he had just put a bullet through his best friend’s head. He quickly decided that he couldn’t stand to see them like Matt, alive again after they died. It would be for the best.

  He found every team member that was on the roof and put a bullet in each of their brains. With each shot, he felt a part of him leave. Part of his humanity left, leaving him empty.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  Langston quickly grabbed Parker, who had nearly collapsed on the spot. Parker was on his knees near where they had put the dead bodies. Parker became hysterical again.

  “I did this, god, why?! I killed Matt and all the others. I had to! They were different, changed, not themselves anymore.”

  “What do you mean?” asked Langston, “What do you mean you had to shoot them?”

  “They were infected, they tried to attack me. My friends… Matt… they tried to bite me. I was defending myself.”

  “If they were infected, there isn’t much you could have done,” stated Langston.

  “They were unstoppable…”

  “It’s ok, Parker. I’ll walk you back to your cot. You don’t need to see this anymore,” said Langston with concern.

  Langston picked Parker up, throwing his arm over his shoulder to help support him. He carried him carefully back to Parker’s cot and laid him down. The man had been through something Langston hoped he never had to deal with personally.

  Chapter 22

  Hell in the streets

  They both had stayed in his apartment for a couple of days now, too afraid to even peek out into the hallway. The first day they had stayed inside all day, staying safe from the outside. It was the days after that haunted them and made them unwilling to step foot outside the door. The gunfire had lessened, for better or worse they didn’t know. Something else replaced it, however, something worse.

  Screams, high pitched piercing screams. It was the scream of someone who was in incredible pain. They heard it several times, each time they cringed, hoping whoever was in pain was ok and got help. Only once did Kenji go to his balcony to see who was screaming, and never again after that. It was one of those things that haunt you in your sleep.

  Kenji heard the screaming and walked out to the balcony to check and see what it was all about. It was a man and a woman on the street. T
he woman was the one screaming while the man looked like he was trying to help her. Kenji quickly realized that he wasn’t, and instead was the one causing her pain. The man was tearing into her flesh with his hands, tossing bits and pieces. Even from this high up, he could see the gore.

  His first thought was to help her, but he knew that by the time he raced to the ground floor she would be dead. Instead, he helplessly watched, as he saw another human being torn apart by one of the Yokai. That’s what they started calling them; Yokai were spirits or demons from folklore, supernatural beings that could bring death and destruction. A fitting name since no one understood what made the people go crazy and attack each other. He felt horrible not being able to help but knew where to pick his battles.

  Kenji walked back into the apartment, feeling worse than he already did. He hadn’t been getting much sleep amongst the gunfire, screams, and nightmares. The nightmares were the worst surprisingly; he couldn’t even go back to sleep for hours afterward. His nightmares were about the man in the grocery store, who they couldn’t help. Sometimes it was his own dead body that he looked down on, other times it was Kiyomi.

  Kenji was at an all-time low; he had never felt this bad before in his life. He figured it was the stress of the situation. It wasn’t easy to watch, almost helplessly, as others died. Kenji tried to watch the TV to get his mind off things, but they showed nothing of the horrors that he could see outside his window. Instead, they showed locations of evacuations, but all he could think of was how they couldn't make it to an evacuation point. Kenji didn’t want to relive what he had seen outside over and over, knowing that it wouldn’t change anything. He was stuck in a rut, understanding that he was safe not trying to help anyone, and yet a coward for not even trying. If he did try, he would most likely end up dead or as one of the Yokai.

  Instead, he tried to be neutral about the whole situation and thought up ways that he could help. He had already dug out a metal pipe that was an extra piece of the plumbing. The weight in his hands made him feel more powerful and secure; it was something to keep his mind off being helpless. Kenji knew that Kiyomi felt the same way, and she hardly left his side. Kiyomi saw him as her weapon; he was her metal pipe.

  Thankfully he had yet to use the weapon, and no one had even tried to make their way into his apartment. Kenji figured that most everyone else was either stuck in their apartments as well, too afraid to leave its comfort. That or they were with everyone else, trying to make their way outside the city. He didn’t understand why anyone would want to try to leave the city when that is where the infection had come from in the first place.

  They watched people run around down below, up until he saw the lady being torn apart, scrambling around trying to avoid other people and the Yokai. The only good thing was that the Yokai weren’t by any means fast or smart. They seemed confused with all the noise and movement switching their attention constantly, their focus divided. Now that less and fewer people were trying to travel through the Yokai would catch a person here and there.

  The military didn’t know which way to defend or protect and mostly just stayed at their checkpoints attempting to cull back the Yokai while trying to move civilians to relative safety. The patrols were completely given up on, realizing that the number of troop deaths combined with the increased danger of the streets, it was easier to stick together. They were losing ground, but some groups fared better than others. The news had shown several checkpoints completely overrun with people trying to escape the Yokai but ended up blocking the way. Most of the people caught at the checkpoints quickly became targets for the infected.

  Kenji guessed they had, at least, another day or two of food supply before they would have to go and try to find some more. The thought of joining the hell that was on the streets scared him, and he feared for both of their safety. He decided that maybe he would try to either find some food within his apartment building before going out to check the streets or trade with someone. Kenji wondered how many people in the building were alive or had fled.

  The building itself had eight apartments per floor, with a total of twenty floors. Kenji lived on the nineteenth floor, probably why they were so lucky not to be involved in the current situation. They figured that no one wanted to travel all the way up to the top of a building just to find out it was already inhabited. Worse, if someone were to try to escape the Yokai, they would be trapped with only one way out, to go back down into the throes of their pursuers.

  Most people wanted to get as far away from the center of the city as possible; even this far away seemed not far enough. Kenji had watched the people down below, studying their habits and where they seemed to be heading. It was a herd movement mentality, people wanted to be where they thought was safe; there was safety in numbers. He thought maybe it would be easier to avoid the Yokai and other people, who seemed either unhelpful or distant as it was.

  Kenji began to frame a plan in his head. They would head into the heart of the city, away from all the crowds and the Yokai. It only made logical sense to head the other way once they had all passed outwards of the city. Wait out the rush of them all leaving the city and then head into the city where there would be little to no one left. Maybe even search the police station between here and downtown. Hopefully, there would still be some guns still left.

  He figured that he should search his building first for survivors, at least then it wouldn’t be just the two of them. He wasn’t hopeful they would find that many people left in the building, but it was worth a shot. The second order of business would be to find and gather all the supplies they could take with them. Maybe if they were lucky, they could find some decent weapons in the building.

  Kenji decided that he would check in the morning, beginning with his floor. He grabbed his pipe that was sitting next to him; it would have to do if he came across any of the Yokai. He was hoping that they didn’t come across any until they got to the lower floors. He would find out tomorrow; today was for mustering the courage to go through with his plan.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  The next morning, he ate a small amount of food, his nerves constricting his stomach making him less hungry than normal. Kenji had told Kiyomi his plan last night, and she agreed that it might be best to see if there was anyone else left in the apartment building and move them into the city. Of course, they would wait another day or so to move into the city, let the chaos outside die down a bit before they tried.

  Kenji decided to wear some protective gear just in case, choosing an old baseball helmet from his college years, a pair of thick winter gloves that were top-grain leather, and lastly his metal pipe as his weapon. He looked at himself in the mirror and chuckled, he looked ridiculous, but it didn’t matter. Kiyomi had decided to come along as well and watch his back; she held his old baseball bat. They both decided that they should check their current floor before moving on.

  Kenji pushed the furniture away from the door and looked through the eye-hole. The part of the hallway he could see looked clear, it even looked normal with nothing out of place. He took that as a good sign he was right about the chaos out in the streets not reaching his floor. His heart was pounding against his chest, afraid to open the door. He had to, if not now, later.

  Deciding to just go for it, Kenji pulled the door open slowly, not wanting to attract any attention just in case. Once the door was open enough for him to stick his head through he did a quick check of the full hallway. Nothing still seemed out of place and looked rather like no one had been in the hallway for several days. He put his foot on the threshold of the door as if to make sure that the ground was still solid.

  The layout of each floor was simple; there were eight apartments on each floor. Four apartments were on each side of the hallway, with an elevator in the middle of the hallway. There were also two stairwells at each end of the building. Kenji lived in the apartment at the end of the hall, right next to the stairwell.

  Kenji fully stepped out into the hallway, while she stayed behind. Kiyomi s
tood behind the door ready to close it if he had to run back in. A thought crossed his mind, what if other people took him for a Yokai. He hadn’t thought about that yet. He decided to call out and see if anyone would respond to him.

  “Hello?”

  His voice echoed down the hallway. For a moment, nothing stirred, but then he heard a crash a couple of apartments down the hall. He turned and looked towards the sound he heard the movement of someone. He crept down the hall to the door and placed his ear to the door. Kenji heard shuffling behind the door; someone was behind the door. He gently knocked on the door hoping that someone would answer him.

  Surprisingly, the door opened, and he fell in with the door. He landed at the feet of someone, and quickly backed up against the door and tried to defend himself. He stopped once he realized the person wasn’t attacking him. Kenji felt stupid for freaking out as he did but quickly got up to his feet.

  “Sorry,” Kenji said feeling embarrassed.

  The person turned out to be a teenage boy, sixteen to be precise. The teen looked just as scared and foolish as he did. The teen stared awkwardly at him, making him feel uncomfortable, however, seeing another person alive gave him hope.

  “Do you mind if I bring my Fiancée here, so we can all talk?” Kenji asked.

  “Sure, just hurry up!” the teen said worriedly.

  Kenji called for her, “Kiyomi!”

  Kiyomi quickly and quietly moved down to join them both. Once they both were in the door, they shut it and locked it. It seemed that the teen had the same idea that he did and blocked the door with some heavy furniture. Once it was secure, they all felt the tension slowly start to leave them. A short walk of only thirty feet had worn them down, but he quickly recovered.