by Mike Fosen
Matvei just nodded pensively.
“The bosses definitely spread the virus to the rest of the planet,” Raul continued. “It’s taking a bit longer to take hold but is spreading now and faster by the minute. Mexico City is a wasteland, with the infected chasing refugees north. I don’t think it will be long before the infected are here as well.”
“They are foolish and greedy. They never even consulted me on any of this,” Matvei stated, rising from his chair. “And my other question?”
“Yes that too,” Raul replied. “Hector found out that they all had a meeting tonight. He is friends with one of Cesar’s closest guards. It appears that you are a marked man. It was Cesar’s idea originally, but they are all on board.”
Matvei did not look surprised to hear the news. If the bosses were conducting operations without his knowledge, they were most likely thinking of removing him from the picture as well. Matvei walked to a cabinet and removed a bottle of Vodka, poured a drink and offered it to Raul, who declined.
“Only tequila for me, sir,” Raul joked.
“Well I owe you a case then, for your loyalty and hard work,” Matvei said with a handshake. “Now let’s see what can be done about this.”
14
August 27
Day 2
It was now well after midnight, and everyone was completely exhausted after the day's ordeal, with the exception of Dan, who had slept all day and agreed to keep watch during the night. We all decided that it wasn't necessary for him to do it from the roof, as the upstairs office window afforded an excellent view. Everyone wanted to get cleaned up, and I was slated to go first. Stephen watched in horror when the first thing Dan did was take a hatchet to the four maple trees Stephen had just planted in the back yard at $300 apiece.
“Times they are a changing,” Dan said with a wink. “We’re gonna need the fields of fire.
I exited the upstairs bathroom after my shower, and saw Dan was already set up in his lookout position across the hall in Stephen's office. He was sitting in the chair behind a desk that was placed in front of a large window methodically loading .223 rounds from a plastic ammo can into a stack of thirty-round GI magazines. Through the steady click of the seating rounds I could hear Stephen, Mattie and Chris talking downstairs while fixing some dinner. I sat on the edge of the desk that faced the window.
"Man, I feel a hundred times better," I told Dan as I checked out the street view for myself through the open shades.
"Why don't you do me a favor and shut off the light in the bathroom so you’re not backlighting me. Didn't they teach you anything up here in Joliet?" Dan snapped back.
Already off to a fantastic start to our conversation, I ran and turned off the light and returned to hear Dan chime in with, "That's better, son."
"Son?" I replied. "I'm older than you are!"
"Hey, what’s the situation with your friend Mattie down there?" Dan asked, quickly changing the subject.
"I don't think you two would be very compatible, Dan, but she is single so give it your best shot if you want," I replied. "I thought you have been seeing that stripper Janet or whatever her name was for a while now. What happened?"
"Jasmine is her name, jackass, and we broke up today because of irreconcilable differences,” Dan replied matter-of-factly.
As he began to fill me in on his day’s events, I let out a low whistle after hearing how his house had been destroyed, and Jasmine’s eventual death.
“Well that’s a good reason to break it off,” I joked before our conversation was interrupted by Mattie shouting from downstairs.
"Mike! You may want to come see this!" she called from the family room.
“Hold that thought, buddy,” I told Dan. “We can finish this conversation later.”
“Oh, I’m sure we’ll have plenty of time for that,” Dan replied as I left the office.
Bounding down the stairs, I found Mattie, Stephen and Chris all sitting on the couch glued to the TV. A pile of sandwiches had been forgotten on the coffee table with Buddy, Stephen’s fat beagle, staring at the plate with obvious intent.
“What’s going on?” I asked, without receiving a reply.
I turned towards the television set, where an anxious reporter from Fox News who I didn't recognize was offering an overview of the developing national emergency. The lead story in the crisis was that during the initial onset of the civil unrest the president had been at a Pro-Immigration rally in Arizona. During the rally the president had been attacked at approximately 3:45 EST while giving a speech from the stage. There was video footage that had been playing all afternoon which caught the attack from several angles. A disturbance began in the front of the crowd, and several of the guests attacked everyone in sight while others rushed the stage. Gunshots rang out, and we could see the attackers stagger from the gunshot impacts, but they still managed to overcome the Secret Service and reach the president. He was quickly evacuated, but from Stephen’s 46" HDTV and with the help of the news cameras, it was clear that the president had been bitten on his right hand.
No official statement had been released from the White House, but it was obvious that the situation at the top was deteriorating rapidly. The vice president was unaccounted for at this time as well. It was rumored that his convoy was ambushed by unknown attackers in NYC while in transit to the airport. With the widespread rioting and panic being reported in the New York area, the news reporters were unable to substantiate those reports, and it was now unclear who was in charge of the country. A national emergency had been declared and all active duty and reserve military personnel were now being activated and were to report to their respective military bases immediately.
“Yeah right, like that’s gonna happen,” Chris, a reservist himself, replied to the TV. “We are spread out all over the state, and from what I saw today, it’s already too late.”
The reporter explained that several state governors had declared a state of emergency but that martial law was not in effect, mainly due to the fact there was no way presently to legally declare or enforce such an order. A small panel of experts came on to discuss what power the state governors had in this kind of situation and what the Federal government needed to do. Nobody agreed on anything, and one of the members simply stood up and walked out of the studio mid-argument.
More stories followed, including firsthand accounts of several people describing how they had been attacked by friends and neighbors, some of whom had suffered wounds that should have left them incapacitated. The personal experiences were not uncommon as word was just now getting out from the areas hardest hit. While the reporter went over some developing stories, a large map of the United States was put up with red dots showing areas of the country experiencing unrest. At least a hundred dots littered the map around every major urban area in the country. Grabbing a sandwich and ignoring the fat beagle staring at the food, I watched as the anchor stated that he had some new footage in from New York which appeared to be legitimate. He warned that the footage was graphic and was unedited prior to being shown. The video was footage of downtown New York City, showing several large fires and a massive group of people crossing the Brooklyn Bridge in a panic. The video had been taken from a citizen with his cellphone who was in panic mode, evident from the constant swearing in the background. A massive fireball erupted in the center of the bridge, which fell in several pieces and sent hundreds of tons of concrete and steel, along with thousands of people, into the river below. As the explosion subsided, two F-18 Strike Hornets roared past overhead and then the video went black. The coverage played back again several times in slow motion while the anchor relayed that he had received reports that their news helicopter also may have been shot down and that official word was now coming in that New York City was being quarantined by the military. The camera returned to the studio and a large ticker ran across the bottom of the screen:
“National emergency declared as civil unrest spreads unchecked.”
The anchor was relaying that a news conf
erence had been scheduled to begin at any moment at the CDC in Atlanta to discuss the epidemic that appeared to be responsible for the chaos, when a disturbance erupted on set. For a moment the anchor continued to speak, laying out several measures that the CDC was already recommending.
“Stay in your homes and avoid contact with anyone who appears sick in any way,” the anchor recommended before a second figure appeared on camera and began whispering in his ear. There was a considerable pause before the anchor finally stated that New York City was falling under a media blackout in an attempt to stop widespread panic. Since Fox News was located in New York at the Rockefeller Center, they were forcibly being taken off the air. Several armed men could briefly be seen before the cameras shut off. With that, Stephen got off the couch, grabbed a couple of sandwiches, and tossed one to Buddy, which was immediately wolfed down. He then announced he was going to check to see if ar15.com was still up on the internet, and then hit the sack.
"I’m gonna check to see if anybody I know is posting,” Stephen stated, “and maybe somebody has an idea on what the fuck is going on. Everyone fend for yourself as far as sleeping arrangements tonight. I have an extra bedroom upstairs if anyone wants it."
Mattie claimed the spare bedroom, but wanted to get some local news first and changed the channel. Several stations were already offline and only showing the Emergency Alert Broadcast, which again outlined instructions for remaining in your homes and avoiding travel or contact with anyone sick at all costs. After searching, however, Mattie found that the local affiliate, NBC 5 out of Chicago, was still on the air. The female reporter on the screen obviously had been crying off stage, as her makeup was all messed up, but she put on a brave face while interviewing a professor from Northwestern University. He theorized on how a virus of some sort must be responsible, and according to his calculations, it had already spread too far to be stopped. The professor’s face was pale white and visibly shaken as they watched live video footage coming in, which was actually filmed just blocks away from the studio. A large crowd advanced down the street after having breached a hastily assembled police barricade. The cameras caught the fleeing officers firing wildly into the maddened crowd and then focused in on a woman dressed in an expensive suit attacking an elderly man who was unable to outrun the advancing mob. Catching him, she savagely used her teeth to tear into the back of his neck. The crews abandoned the camera, and it was left on the street with the lens focused on the dead man’s face lying on the ground in a puddle of his own blood. Then he blinked and staggered to his feet, disappearing from sight. All that remained in view was hundreds of feet moving past and the heartbreaking screams for help.
The studio popped back on screen, and the professor rose from his chair, took off his microphone, and stated that they should all try to get out of the city. The news anchor interrupted him, again repeating the advice of the Chicago city government to remain in your homes and allow police and fire crews to contain the situation. Arguing broke out off camera, and the screen went black for a moment. I thought maybe that was going to be it, but suddenly the reporter was back on line.
“I just cannot believe this is happening,” Mattie said in a low whisper as the reporter began to speak.
“What we know at this time is that an apparent virus is sweeping the nation. It is highly contagious, with transmission of the virus spread through bodily fluid transfer. Once infected, victims become extremely homicidal. The infected seem to be able to survive devastating injuries. Some unconfirmed reports have suggested that severe head trauma is the only way to repel the attackers. Widespread rioting and looting is being reported in the entire Chicagoland area with several large fires burning unchecked. Local grocery and large box stores are being called “dead zones” by the authorities. The military is now attempting to quarantine Chicago in an attempt to stop the spread of the virus, and is advising residents to remain in their homes until relief shelters can become operational.”
Having seen enough, I decided to head to the quiet of the basement for some sleep. I’d personally had plenty of drama unfold today and didn’t need any more of it on TV. I walked over and grabbed a water bottle from the refrigerator.
“It has been a long day and morning will be here soon enough,” I said. ”Good night, Mattie, don't stay up too late."
"Good night, Mike, and thanks again for today," she replied. “It sounds like they are going to cover the CDC press conference live. I want to see what they know.”
"No problem, I'll see you in the morning,” I said with a tired wink. “Let me know tomorrow what they say.”
Chris looked like he was already sleeping as I headed downstairs to the basement. Stephen kept a spare cot in the corner, and I grabbed a sleeping bag from one of his several shelves full of survival gear and promptly fell into an exhausted sleep.
15
August 27
Day 2
It was just after 0800hrs, and Dan was watching the neighbors across the street loading up their Dodge Caravan in a panic. The wife had been throwing unpacked items, mostly food and clothing, into the back while her husband wasted precious time strapping a mattress and box spring to the roof. Two little girls were sitting on the front steps crying with pink backpacks on. Dan guessed they were maybe six and eight years old. He shook his head in wonder at how a father could be so unprepared for a family emergency. It didn’t take a genius to see there was no plan as to what was being loaded or probably where they were heading to as well. The man shrieked several choice obscenities at his wife as she spilled a case of bottled water all over the driveway, and you could hear the panic in his voice from across the street. Dan was positive they wouldn’t make it too far. Dan had called out an offer of assistance which was met with a terrified order to stay the hell away from him and his family.
This was the third family he saw leave in the last hour, and they all left under similar circumstances. It took the panicked family fifteen to twenty more minutes for them to finally get out of the driveway. The van looked overloaded and rode low to the ground. Dan had not seen a zombie all night, and the only real action had been the many vehicles speeding out of the subdivision. Mattie and Chris fell asleep watching TV in the living room, but the sound was turned too low for him to make out what was being said. He was sure as shit that it was not good news. However, the sun was bright and the air was clear, making it an otherwise perfect late summer morning. Walking downstairs, Dan let Mattie continue to sleep, as she was probably up late, but Chris received the toe of his boot to wake up and relieve him from guard duty.
“Be upstairs in fifteen!” Dan said. “I’m spent.”
“Roger that,” Chris replied with a yawn.
Stephen, now awake and refreshed after a solid eight hours of sleep, exited his bedroom fully dressed just as Dan, back at his lookout post, spotted his next door neighbor speed walking to the front door.
"Looks like you got company coming," Dan called as the front doorbell rang several times." I would’ve shot him, but I don't think he’s sick. Looks way too scared to be a zombie."
Stephen peered out the upstairs window at the man who he could tell was quite agitated.
"That's Paul Tucker, my liberal neighbor, who hates guns and is probably scared shitless right about now," Stephen laughed. "I can only imagine what he wants. Guess he didn't feel like going into the office today."
“Guess not,” Dan replied. “And he doesn’t look armed.”
Deciding to take the opportunity to rub the present situation in Paul's face, Stephen bounded down the stairs, his knee feeling much better, and opened the front door, being sure to leave the glass storm door locked.
"What's up, Paul?" Stephen said with as little emotion as possible. "Watching any TV? Bet you wished you owned a gun right now. Things are looking mighty bad out there. I saw it firsthand yesterday."
"M-my wife and daughter are really scared, Stephen, they are both at h-home in tears right now," Paul stammered, barely able to keep from crying himse
lf. "Can't we set politics aside for now? We could really use some help. I don't know what to do. Our car is nearly out of gas, and Vanessa is close to having a breakdown worrying about her family up in the city. I feel helpless to protect her and Britney. The phones aren't working, so we can't call for help. You’re a cop, what should we do?"
As much as Stephen wanted to tell his liberal neighbor, "Too bad, go pound sand!" Stephen had a soft spot for Paul's daughter Britney. She had even agreed to check on Buddy when he was out of town this past weekend. Britney was a sweetheart and very smart for her age. He’d bought lemonade from her stand just last week and knew he couldn't just turn his back on them.
"Try and relax, Paul," Stephen replied. “I have plenty of help here and we’ll keep your house covered for the time being. You have enough food and water over there?"
"We have enough food for a few weeks or more," Paul replied. "I saw to that early yesterday afternoon when the news reports started coming in. It was a madhouse at the grocery store and I heard shooting as I left. We don’t have much for water though."
"Hang on a second," Stephen said. He left the door, returning a few moments later with a 100 gallon water bob for a tub and a small water filter in a box. "Fill this just in case, and filter it first. I’m not entirely sure how this is spreading yet. That should keep you busy for a while. This afternoon you can have Vanessa and Britney come over for lunch, and my friend Mattie can help calm them down. I'll get a hold of you later."
Stephen closed the door, leaving Paul standing on the porch holding the cardboard box, still looking quite his pathetic liberal self.
Stephen turned from the closed outside door, walked down into his basement, and clicked on the lights. Mike was still snoring and sound asleep over in the corner on the cot. He knew from experience that when Mike fell asleep, it was like trying to raise the dead to wake him up. He crossed over to his row of plastic shelving that ran around the back side of his unfinished basement. Most would say that he was a bit of a survivalist or "prepper" as the trendy people now called it. The shelves lining his walls in rows were filled with everything necessary to live on your own for an extended period of time. He currently had enough bulk food and canned goods to last two people at least twenty or so months. He had also gone to great care to have a wide variety of food and drink options. Cans of various fruits and vegetables filled several shelves, along with two hundred cans of Campbell’s Chunky soups, which Stephen loved to take to work for a quick, easy dinner. Canned tuna, hams and canned chicken filled another. Cases of bottled water filled several shelves and were frequently rotated. Water filters supplemented this, along with several empty drinking water jugs that could be filled on a moment’s notice. He decided that he needed to filter some water today and get the jugs filled.