Class of 1989: A Post Viral Apocalyptic Story

by Jack Hunt

  “You think it’s possible that some of them might not be infected?” Abe asked.

  Miles shrugged.

  The thought came to him. What if they could get a sample? Of course there were a lot of infected people to choose from but what about insects? The girl said the insects were mostly dead when they arrived.

  “There it is!” Hal cried as if he’d won the jackpot. “Down there. Bring it down.”

  “I’m not landing this.”

  “Come on, man.”

  “Can you get close enough for us to see?” Miles asked. The helicopter lowered and Hal had his hand on the door ready to get out. The closer they got to the dry lakebed, the more sand churned into a cloud, swirling around the helicopter and making it hard to see. Miles reached over and grabbed Hal’s arm. “She could be infected.”

  From what they could see there was no one on the art car.

  “Take it down. Come on.”

  Chester brought it all the way down to the ground and Hal hopped out, gun at the ready. It didn’t take long for the infected to take notice. Miles saw some running toward them. He pushed open the door and brought up the handgun like a foreign object. He gritted his teeth and cursed as he squeezed off a few rounds. The bullets tore into the sand.

  “Are you even trying to hit them?” Abe asked, hopping out and unloading a flurry of rounds. Miles glanced over his shoulder but Hal wasn’t there. He went to find him when Chester told him that he wouldn’t stay on the ground for long.

  “Go,” Abe said.

  Miles hopped out under the wash of rotors and ran at a crouch over to the art car. He climbed into the open door calling out to Hal. It was 19 feet high and 34 feet long with wings, and a moving jaw that according to Hal shot fireballs up to 25 feet.

  Hal was at the back of a cramped space, holding a jacket and looking at it.

  “She was here.”

  “We have to go.”

  “I’m not going.”

  Miles glanced out just as a burner came running at him, his face a picture of aggression. He had no choice, he raised the gun and fired a single round into the man’s head, dropping him. It was the first person he’d killed. There was no time to process what it meant. He turned to Hal. “Come on.”

  “I’m staying. I need to find her.”

  He approached his friend and placed a hand on him. “She might have made it out. Do you want me to tell her that I left you behind? Now get on that helicopter.”

  Right there and then he broke down. “If she’s dead…”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “But if she’s dead.”

  Miles stared; his concentration broke at the sound of Abe yelling. “Miles. We need to go now.”

  “Hal. You’re no good to her dead. Dead or alive she wouldn’t want this for you.”

  “What do I have without her?”

  Miles cursed inwardly. He wanted to pistol whip his friend and drag his ass back to that helicopter but he couldn’t. “You have me, Jenna, Nate, Grady, Abe, hell… even Crawford.”

  Hal shook his head.

  “Hal, there is not time for this.”

  Right then another burner entered the art car. Miles fired two rounds taking him down only to have to do it again as a second and third appeared. Miles wasn’t sure whether what he’d said hit home but Hal went with him. They exited the art car and double-timed it over to the helicopter. Chester was already waiting. “About time, assholes.”

  They got in as a large swarm of burners raced toward them. It was like watching runners in the New York marathon charging through the city, except this one wasn’t concrete and glass, it was made of sand and tents. The helicopter began to lift but as it did, several burners leapt on to the landing skids, hanging on and trying to climb up. They didn’t know until Chester recognized that they weren’t rising fast enough. The helicopter banked right and Miles’ stomach dropped as he hung on for dear life. “They’re weighing us down.”

  The whoosh of the rotor was deafening as he yelled out. Abe opened his door and held on as he fired two more rounds. “Hal. You need to do the same.”

  But Hal was lost in thought, looking at his daughter’s jacket, squeezing it tight.

  “Hal!” Miles yelled. He glanced up and then registered what they were saying. He opened his door and fired off a few rounds and then just when they thought they were going to crash into the ground, Chester pulled on the cyclic and they rose up high above the crowd of infected.

  “Holy crap,” Abe said. “Let’s not do that again.”

  “We’re not out of the woods yet,” Chester said gesturing to a sandstorm heading toward them. Chester brought up the helicopter, hoping to escape it, but they were about to pass through it. It looked like a gigantic wave, maybe 50 feet high, rolling forward and smothering the landscape in an orangey brown haze. All of a sudden the outside world became dark. Miles closed his eyes fearing the worst as the wind pummeling the helicopter made it shake violently. Chester just burst out laughing as though this was a walk in the park.

  Within seconds they were high above it and looking into clearer skies. Far below they could no longer see the city of tents. A huge wave of relief washed over Miles and he looked back with a smile only to see a somber friend. Abe placed a hand on Miles’ shoulder and patted it. “We need to work on your aim.”

  Nate stood by the kitchen window looking for them. Molly and Grady were upstairs at the front of the home keeping an eye on burners approaching. They’d seen a number pass the house, and a few had attempted to enter but they’d quickly prevented that. Now Wayne had his feet up on the table and was downing his second can of Budweiser, and chain-smoking his way through a pack of Marlboros. “You know… this really isn’t a bad thing.”

  “Yeah, how so?” Nate asked without taking his eyes off the outside.

  “Well, if this pandemic continues, no more taxes, no more need to work a regular job. Happy days.”

  Nate looked at him. “And you would know. You haven’t worked a hard day in what…forever?”

  Wayne coughed on his beer and sat upright, narrowing his eyes.

  “Heard you made all your money in the dot.com era before it went bust, and since then you play poker. That right?”

  “Yeah,” Wayne replied.

  Nate noticed the way he wasn’t bragging. He figured he would have used that opportunity to talk about how much money he’d made but instead he got up and got another beer.

  Nate’s brow furrowed. “Say. Back at your mom’s place. Where was she?”

  “Who?”

  “Your mom. I never saw her there and you didn’t mention her.”

  “Oh…” He cracked open a can and downed it quickly without looking at him. “Hey, what about those burners.” He cracked up laughing. “You should have seen the look on that guy’s face before I blew a hole in it. Classic. Yeah, I think I’m going to like this.”

  He was deflecting but why?

  “Wayne. Your mom?”

  He twisted the can in front of him, looking uncomfortable. “She passed away three years ago.”

  Awkward silence followed. “Sorry to hear that.” Nate glanced at him and for the first time since seeing him, Wayne looked far from that asshole who seemed to delight in taking jabs at people. “If she wasn’t living there, who was?”

  Wayne’s gaze lifted. “Me.”

  “But your social media always shows you in some exotic place.”

  He glanced into the living room as if to check whether Molly was there.

  “Photoshopped.”

  “What?”

  “I haven’t been to any of those places.”

  “But the fast cars, the women?”

  “Rented, escorts.”

  “Why would you do that?”

  Wayne sighed and Nate attempted to connect the dots.

  “After my mom got ill with cancer I moved back to Gerlach to look after her. The cost of treatment was a lot. I used nearly all my savings to help her, the rest I blew pla
ying poker.”

  “But I thought you were the Poker King?”

  He smiled and twisted the can before taking another sip. “The Poker Fool.”

  “So you were never rich?”

  “Rich? What is that? I came into a lot of money in the dot.com boom, that part is true, but I burned my way through it as fast as it came in. Fast cars, women, drugs, you name it, I did it all and had it all. Once I started that persona online I just felt the need to keep it up. When my mother became sick, I took what I had left and paid off the house, and her medical expenses. I have a small amount left but by next month that will be gone and I will have to get a job.”

  “And your mom?”

  “She didn’t make it.” He brought a hand up to his eyes as they began to well up. Here was this big guy who had at one time conveyed confidence. “Whoa, look at this. I used to be the one that made you nerds cry. Now look at me.”

  Nate didn’t say anything, he just stared.

  “Look, don’t say anything to the others.”

  He made a motion with his fingers across his mouth. “My lips are sealed.”

  Nate began to realize he wasn’t the only one with secrets.

  Eighteen - Left Behind

  It was suicide but he wouldn’t be swayed.

  Chester refused to come with them even in the face of certain death. A stubborn individual, he’d said that Gerlach was home, and if the infected showed up they had better be ready for a fight. Even when they suggested that the military might wipe Gerlach off the map, he couldn’t be convinced otherwise. Chester reminded Miles of an old-timer who lived at the base of Mount St. Helens in 1980. He was urged to leave by officials before it erupted, but the lodge owner refused. Some people were just set in their ways, others had made peace with God and were more than ready to die. It was hard to tell which applied to Chester, but Miles figured it was a bit of both.

  On the journey back to Abe’s, they discussed the notion of the military bombing the town. Some might have thought it was extreme to think that government would do that, but it wasn’t a far stretch of the imagination to think they would do whatever was necessary for the preservation of human life. After seeing Black Rock City, and a steady stream of burners heading south toward Gerlach on Route 34, it wasn’t a matter of if, only when. The question was why hadn’t they done it already?

  Grady and Molly came out of the front of the house, rifles raised ready for trouble as they made their way in. “So?” Grady asked. No one needed to say anything, one look at Hal and he got his answer. Hal disappeared upstairs, and Molly said she would go and keep an eye on him while they discussed the road ahead.

  “We need to get out of town,” Nate said.

  “And I need to get Jenna.”

  “Best of luck with that,” Wayne said before browsing through the fridge. “Hey Abe, you got any more beer?”

  “There’s a six-pack in there.”

  “Yeah, I found that.”

  Abe’s eyes widened.

  “I think you’ve had enough,” Nate said patting Wayne on the back. “I’m ready to leave whenever you guys are. If we move now we might get shipped out with the rest of the town that’s been evacuated.”

  Besides burners, and Chester, they hadn’t seen anyone else in town. It wouldn’t have been a hard evacuation with just over a hundred residents.

  “Who’s going with us?” Miles asked. He didn’t like the idea of handing himself over to the military especially in light of what Grady and Abe had witnessed, but he had no choice. He couldn’t leave Jenna behind.

  “Not me,” Wayne said.

  “You can’t stay here,” Nate responded.

  “Didn’t say I would but I’m not becoming Uncle Sam’s bitch. I’ve seen the way these things play out. They’ll stuff us in one of those godforsaken FEMA camps and when we aren’t chowing down on year-old bread and piss-weak soup, they’ll have us digging ditches or making cups of coffee for the troops. Nope, not me. Screw that.”

  “Then where will you go?” Miles added.

  “San Diego, maybe Arizona. Somewhere warm. Somewhere I can work on my tan.”

  “Oh my God,” Grady said shaking his head. “You truly are an idiot.”

  “You say somethin, China boy?”

  “I’m Korean, for the umpteenth time.”

  “Yeah, and it was probably your folks who started this shitstorm.”

  Grady walked up to him and Wayne loomed over.

  “You got something to say?”

  “You know, Wayne, you really are a dick. You were a dick in high school, and you are an even bigger one now.”

  Wayne laughed and gave him a shove as he walked past him. “At least this dick doesn’t have his balls in his wife’s handbag.”

  Grady lunged at him but Wayne gave him a right hook, then latched on to him and swung him across the room like he was a small sack of potatoes.

  “Hey. That’s enough,” Abe said stepping in. “You guys want to jerk each other off, you do it later. Right now is not the time.”

  Wayne chuckled as he eyed Grady who was now crouched over nursing a cut lip.

  “You okay?” Miles asked touching his arm. Grady shook his hand off him.

  “Just leave me alone.” He walked out front, grabbing up his rifle on the way. The storm door slammed shut and through the window Miles saw him take a seat on the porch rocker.

  Miles reached into his jacket pocket. Then patted the other one. “Shit.” He kept repeating it over and over as he paced the room.

  “What’s the matter?” Abe asked.

  “In the hurry to leave I left the sample in the helicopter.”

  “What sample?”

  “Before we left Black Rock City I scooped up one of the dead insects in Chester’s flask. Figured I could run some tests on it.”

  “I think it’s a little late to turn the tide,” Wayne said from the kitchen. “Besides, if you want a sample just grab one of those infected. I don’t imagine that would be too hard,” he said cracking up laughing.

  “Seriously, Wayne.”

  “What? I’m being serious. Some of them are lying dead on the ground out there.”

  Abe looked at Miles. “I’m sure the military are already running tests.”

  He nodded and strolled over to the staircase. “Molly. Hal. We’re gonna head out soon.”

  Right then he turned and Grady was backing into the doorway, fast. He shut the door and locked it. “I don’t think so. Incoming.”

  Everyone rushed toward the window and looked out.

  Outside, there was a swarm of burners, at least two hundred heading their way. While they didn’t expect them to enter the house, they couldn’t rule out that they wouldn’t. Had they seen Grady? Heard the gunfire from others they’d killed?

  “Everyone head up to the attic. Let’s go,” Abe shouted ushering them toward the stairs. Miles’ pulse sped up as he took two steps at a time. Abe yanked on a cord and brought down the hatch and a ladder. One by one they climbed up into darkness and then Abe brought it all up. As soon he was up, he switched on a light bulb and went to the far end of the house and looked out the slats of a dormer window.

  Seconds later, they heard windows being shattered, then a crash as burners entered the house. All eyes went to the trap door, guns raised ready to unleash hell.

  They could hear them tearing up the house, turning over chairs, smashing windows and searching each of the rooms.

  “Can they get up here?” Molly asked.

  “I pulled up the cord, they shouldn’t be able to,” Abe said in a low whisper.

  The noise below intensified then it went quiet.

  They looked at each other. Abe moved back toward the dormer when an attempt was made to get up. They could hear several of them jumping to try and pull at what little cord was exposed.

  “Ah fuck this,” Wayne said hurrying over to the trap door and balancing on a beam near it. He lowered his rifle and before anyone could say no, he squeezed the trigger. It let
out a rapid three-round burst, and light from below shone up through the ceiling. Molly followed suit.

  “Stop. Don’t waste ammo.”

  “Well done, Wayne. Now they know where we are,” Grady said looking out the dormer window and seeing those that had walked on turn back toward the house.

  “Hold your ground. They can’t get up,” Wayne yelled.

  “You wanna bet!?” Molly said just after they managed to snag the cord and pull down the trap door. The ladder unfolded, a clatter of metal. Wayne was undeterred. He continued to rain down rounds tearing through those insane enough to try to climb up.

  “Stand back,” Wayne said, pulling a pin from what looked like a grenade.

  Someone yelled, “Where the hell did you get that from?”

  Miles’ eyes widened as the sound of a loud boom followed by Wayne yukking it up. “God damn. Now that’s what I’m talking about. C’mon, you mother…” He unloaded every curse word in the book as he continued firing round after round, seemingly finding enjoyment in the death of others. Miles wasn’t sure whether to be impressed or disturbed.

  At some point, his brain became overloaded by the noise of gunfire. It was like the walls were closing in on him. Nate stood on one side of the opening, while Wayne fired on the other down into the landing. Between that and the yelling as burners clambered over the fallen, it was all too much. Taking the butt of the gun he slammed it into the dormer vents, knocking them outward, and began to climb out, desperate for air, desperate to gather his thoughts, desperate to escape.

  “Miles!” Abe yelled climbing out after him.

  Miles wasn’t paying attention, his mind was lost in the past, in the present and all that was happening around him. He scrambled up to the ridge of the roof and straddled it. Looking out he gazed at a vast array of burners all heading toward the house. Were they drawn by noise or something more? His thoughts went back to a conversation with Donnie. A hand grasped him, and he nearly lost his balance.