“Is that a tooth?”
“Yes it is.” She answered very matter of fact, as though a tooth in his hand was little more than a splinter.
He began rocking back and forth. “This isn’t happening.”
“John, you’re going to be fine.”
Their manager, Todd, arrived minutes later, looking like he could hardly believe the scene in front of him. “What the hell happened? Are you sitting on a customer?”
Marjorie looked up at Todd in utter disgust. His one and only true concern ever was the customer. “Yes he’s been biting people, Todd. Can you lend us a hand?”
“Oh my god, tell me you weren’t bit. I can’t go anywhere near you. There’s some sort of outbreak going on. It’s all over the news. Who is that you’re sitting on?” Todd leaned in to get a better look. “Oh my god, that’s Mr. Sullivan. Christ, he looks bad. You said you called the police?”
Marjorie shot him a furious look. “The line was busy. Todd, we need help.”
Todd stepped back. “I better close the store. Everyone has the day off.” He looked at them a long moment. “…with pay.” He jogged to the front door, his keys jingling.
John finally spoke up. “Marjorie, do you know anything about an outbreak?”
“No, I don’t. I do know that the news tends to scare people. This guy is probably crazy and bites people all the time.”
“But the emergency numbers were busy.”
“I’m sure it’s something to do with the outbreak, whatever that is. Probably a new flu or other virus has people worked up. Since when do you listen to Todd?”
Her words had the desired effect. John laughed. “You’re right. God, I wished he’d get bit.”
“Shall we turn Mr. Sullivan loose on him?” She finished cleaning the wound as she spoke. She gingerly applied a bandage.
“Not a bad idea.”
Loud talk at the front entrance got their attention.
“We just need some essentials!” a lady yelled.
“There has been an accident,” Todd responded.
“Just let us in!” A man pushed his way past Todd and down one of the aisles.
John and Marjorie looked at each other. Then Marjorie looked over at Frank. “This could get ugly. Frank, how are you coming with Kelly?”
“I got the wound cleaned and a bandage on it. She fainted again and hasn’t come out of it. I’m going to drive her to the hospital. John, you want to come along?”
“Yeah, I better.” John looked at Marjorie. “Why don’t you come with us?”
“Who’s going to sit on this guy while you make your escape?”
“I’m not going to leave you with Todd.”
“Maybe we could tie this guy up and bring him with us. I’m sure he could use some medical attention too.”
“I’ll get something to tie him with.”
More people were pouring through the doors. Todd ran up to her. “I’m going to need you guys to stay.”
Marjorie gave him a leveling look. “For once you’re going to have to handle the customers on your own. We’re going to the hospital.”
“You can’t just leave me. You’re not even injured. You leave, and you’re fired.”
“We’ll see what the owner says about that. I’m going along to help with this man and the others.”
Todd gave her a look that she hadn’t realized he was capable of giving. There was a hint of something beyond anger, almost evil. It was chilling. “You’re not going anywhere. Now get on register two.”
Marjorie wished she could release Mr. Sullivan on Todd. “Even if I could get on register two, who’s going to hold this guy down?”
Todd took a long look at Sullivan and stomped off.
“Big jerk.” She muttered the words under her breath and smiled a little. It was the first argument she had won with Todd in four years. God, that felt good.
John came up with a bunch of bungee cords. “We couldn’t find any rope.”
“That’ll work fine. Start wrapping them around his feet. When you’re finished, do his hands. Make sure they’re good and tight. We may have to risk cutting off his circulation.”
“You don’t have to tell me twice.”
More people entered the store. Several were already at the checkout; their baskets were full. They must have cleared off certain shelves.
Todd stood at register two. He looked pissed.
When customers in line got a clear view of the small group tying up the elderly man, they began talking at once.
“Is he one of the diseased?”
“Oh my god, what happened?”
“Look at his eyes.”
Several people abandoned their groceries and tore out of the store. One lady began crying, “I can’t believe this is happening.”
A man edged past her and approached the group tying up Sullivan. “Excuse me, mam, has he bitten anyone?”
Marjorie looked at John, then at the man. While everyone else was alarmed, he was calm and exuded an air of authority. His dark hair, cut short, with grey around the temples, gave him an ageless quality. Marjorie decided to avoid the question. “We’re going to the hospital.”
The man shook his head. “You don’t want to do that. The hospitals are the last place you want to go right now. Has anyone been bit?”
Frank finally spoke up. “He got a couple of us.”
The man pointed to Kelly. “So she got bitten on the arm. And I’m assuming you got bitten on the hand?” he asked as he looked at John.
“Are you a doctor…?” Marjorie glanced up. Her eyes drifted to his shoulder holster, and her hopeful words slid to a halt.
“I’m an officer. I was on duty last night when all this started happening. I’m sorry to have to say this…but…” He looked at Marjorie whose eyes were imploring him not to start a panic. He ran a hand over his face. “Never mind, let’s take this guy in back, and I’ll look at your wounds.”
John finally voiced what wasn’t being said. “We’re infected, aren’t we?”
“If that man bit you, then yes, you’re probably infected.” The man lifted Sullivan’s bungee-corded feet and started dragging him. John and Marjorie followed, trailed by Frank who was carrying Kelly. They were given a wide berth by the remaining customers.
“I’m Riley,” the man said.
One by one, they introduced themselves.
“So what’s going to happen to us?” John asked, but he looked like he dreaded the answer.
“The infection spreads rather fast if you are bitten on the head neck or torso. There is more time for the arms and legs. Hands and feet take the longest.”
“Is there a shot or something we can take, maybe antibiotics.”
“It’s too early to say.”
Marjorie could see that John was about to lose it. She grasped his arm. “Yes, it is too early to say. Thank goodness he only got your hand. We don’t know enough about any of this to start panicking, do we?”
John glanced down at her face. “You really believe that?”
“I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t.” She had never been good at lying. For some reason, it was coming easily now, and John was buying every word.
Riley glanced at her, quite impressed. Either she believed what she was saying, or she was a damn good fibber. And she was calm, not panicking like so many others he had encountered over the last twelve hours. He pushed through the swinging doors. “OK, where’s the break room?”
They trailed into the break room. Frank laid Kelly on one of the tables. Riley peeled away the large bandage on her upper arm. The wound was deep and ugly. The surrounding area was turning various shades of red and purple. He doubted she would wake until she was fully infected. Three sets of expectant eyes were on him so he pressed the bandage back down and asked Frank to retrieve the first aid kit. He washed his hands at the sink trying to buy some time and come up with a plan. From what he’d learned there was nothing that could be done for the infected. He needed to get them quaranti
ned without starting a panic. He also wanted to talk to Marjorie alone. “John, can you find something that can be used for a needle and thread?”
The moment John was out the door, he turned to her. “We don’t know of anyone that is immune to these bites. Kelly will probably turn within an hour or two.”
Marjorie started crying, nodding her head.
“Marjorie, you’re doing great. Don’t let John see you crying.”
She swiped at her tears and ran to the sink, running cold water on her face. “What’ll we do?”
“I suggest we close and lock this break room with Kelly and John tied up.”
She had pretty much guessed as much. John was her friend. “I’ll stay with them.”
“You should go home and board up your windows and doors. Don’t let anyone in for any reason. Make sure you have plenty of food and water.”
“I can’t do that. I can’t leave these two behind. Especially John, he has made this place bearable for the last four years.”
“Marjorie, there is no gentle way to say this so I’m just going to say it. We had to start shooting anyone infected on the street. They were attacking and…eating people they came in contact with. Their number is growing so fast we were not being given a choice. There’s no cure as of yet. The hospitals are overrun. Your friends are turning. They will reanimate after they’ve died. Do you understand what that means?”
Her voice was whisper soft. “There is no cure for the dead.”
“That’s right. I’m going to look at John’s bite. If there’s the odd coloration that Kelly had around hers then there is nothing to be done for him.”
Marjorie nodded, her mind far away, unable to accept all that was happening.
Riley seemed to come to some sort of decision. “Go see what’s taking Frank so long. There’s John. I’ll take a look at his hand.”
Marjorie ran out of the break room and up front. She found Frank in the medicine aisle.
“Marj, someone took the kit. I’m trying to gather supplies.”
She started looking with him when three shots pierced the air. She grabbed Frank’s arm. “Oh god, he’s killed them.”
“What do you mean killed them?”
“Riley said there is no cure and that the only choice is to kill them, or they will start attacking others.”
Frank turned and ran to the back.
“Frank wait.” She ran to catch up.
Riley stopped them just inside the swinging doors. His face was an expressionless mask as he shook his head. “I’m sorry.”
“What do you mean you’re sorry?” Frank pounded his hand against a box. “They were fine when I left them.”
“Kelly was never going to come around. John showed me his bite. He wasn’t far behind.”
“Where are they?”
Riley grabbed Frank’s arm. “They’re in the break room. Don’t go in there.”
“I’ll go where I want.” He shrugged his arm free.
Marjorie started crying. “Frank, please don’t go.”
Frank turned, stunned. “Marjorie, this guy is a madman.”
“Frank, he’s trying to save our lives. He’s been ordered to kill the infected. Frank…they are eating people.”
Frank clearly didn’t believe her and sprinted to the break room.
Riley turned to Marjorie. “Maybe you should go home. I’ll talk to Frank.”
“He’s—” She was interrupted by shouts up front.
“Stay here.” Riley ran off.
Marjorie stared through the window of the swinging doors, but couldn’t see anything.
Frank came up beside her. His face was stricken. There were no words.
Marjorie turned to him. “There’s something going on up front. Riley said to stay here.”
Frank didn’t say anything, but walked through the doors.
“Frank, wait…” She was torn between following him and staying where it was safe. She stayed put. Riley seemed to know what he was doing, and he’d told her to stay.
Moments later, there was more shouting and screaming. Marjorie kept peering through the small window, but all she saw was the occasional person run by. When she couldn’t stand still another moment, she pushed through the door and ended up face to face with Riley.
“What’s happening?”
“Just go to the back office, wedge something against the door and don’t come out again.” He said all this while loading his gun.
“What about Frank?”
He shook his head and ran back up front.
Chapter 5
The sun made the area around the pool feel like a furnace. The tepid pool water was hardly refreshing as Fred swam laps. He checked the watch he’d left at the side of the pool. Christ, it was only ten a.m. As he went back to swimming laps, he heard the door of the gate around the pool being rattled. The character doing the rattling looked completely out of it. No swim suit, scruffy. His head was down, and his hair was in his face.
Fred raised his voice. “Hey pal, maybe you want to sleep it off. Now may not be the best time to go swimming.”
The man moaned and continued rattling the gate with fervor.
“Great,” Fred muttered. “I’m not opening…” The door swung open. “Shit.”
The guy walked straight toward him, dropped in the pool and sank to the bottom.
Instinct kicked in, and Fred swam after him. When he reached him, the man attempted to grab him. Fred avoided his outstretched arms and tried to swim around him. He was shocked to see an enormous hole in the guy’s back. Startled, Fred swam to the surface for air and dove down again. The other man was moving along the bottom, seemingly unaffected by the lack of air. Watching Fred, he began to move toward him. Fred turned and headed to the shallow end, hoping the guy would follow. He did. When his head broke the surface, Fred saw that his eyes were glazed. He had the vacant stare of a dead man, yet he was alive, with a fist-sized hole in his back.
For a moment, Fred’s mind couldn’t accept what he saw. As the man made slow progress toward him, Fred muttered. “I don’t understand. Is this some kind of joke?” Not waiting for an answer, he got out of the pool and watched as the man continued to follow him. “I’m calling the police.”
The man closed the distance between them and tried to grab him. Fred pushed him away, then opened and closed the pool gate. As he turned and sprinted to his apartment, he could hear screaming somewhere in the distance.
****
Once inside his apartment, Fred locked the door and grabbed his phone. He stood motionless, dripping pool water on his kitchen linoleum while waiting for an answer. He wasn’t getting through on the emergency number. Truly alarmed, he switched on the TV. Breaking news was on every channel. “Stay indoors” was being repeated over and over while the news stations showed what looked like combat zones in various areas of the city.
Fred rechecked the locks on his doors and closed his blinds. Someone pounding on his door a minute later had his nerve endings screaming.
The voice outside was frantic. “Let me in! C’mom…let me in!”
Fred didn’t recognize the guy outside. Ground floor apartments facing the street had their disadvantages. It wasn’t the first time a stranger knocked on his door. Before he could make up his mind whether or not to open the door, the guy was gone.
Fred lowered the volume of his TV and sat close, listening. There was a lot of confusion about what was going on. What they did know was that dead people were reanimating and eating live people. The hospitals were being overrun, and people were being turned away. The National Guard was being dispatched. With shock and disbelief, Fred muted the TV, then glanced outside through the side of his blinds. At the moment, it looked normal, though he did hear a car screeching to a stop. Letting go of the blinds, he grabbed the phone and dialed his parents. He got their answering machine. He hung up then hastily toweled off and changed. This was a nightmare. Instinct and survival took over. He needed to find a weapon of sorts. It was too bad he
didn’t own a gun.
He frantically opened and closed drawers and cabinets throughout his one-bedroom apartment, coming up with somewhat pathetic excuses for weapons. Staring at the various items, he tried to decide what would be most useful. It was down to a toilet plunger and a broom handle. The nonstick skillet and his assistant manager of the year trophy were out. He dropped his head in his hands in sheer frustration. Abruptly, he looked up. He remembered he had a tire iron in his truck. He grabbed the plunger and his keys.
Two hours had passed, and Fred was fighting for his life. Leaving his apartment had been a very bad idea. No sooner had he reached his truck and unlocked it, when he noticed he had attracted three of the diseased people, including swimmer boy. He jumped inside his truck and started it up. As he backed away, one of the three had stepped directly in front of his truck. No matter what the news said, he still felt like these were human beings and had no desire to run over them. That had been a mistake. While he had been making up his mind about how to get around the guy, a car plowed into the side of his truck. The driver gave him an apologetic shrug as he backed up and pulled away. Fred shot him the bird.
Several more of the undead surrounded his truck. The engine was still running, but it wasn’t moving forward. That meant a broken rear axle or the frame was bent into a tire. Fred’s hands were shaking as he swore. He had one choice. When he jumped out of his truck and tried to make a run for it, one of the diseased grabbed him by his shirt. Fred swung himself free and started sprinting toward his apartment. There were several milling about next to his ground level balcony and two more at his neighbor’s front door. He spent the next hour and a half avoiding them and trying to sneak back in only to realize that they were multiplying and that the situation was deteriorating into what looked like a war zone between the dead and the living. There had been several explosions. He was guessing they had to have come from the gas station. Afterwards, the air had grown thick with the acrid smell of smoke. It filled his nose and lungs. Breathing had become difficult.
In a matter of hours, his safe little world was unrecognizable. He wished he didn’t live in such a populated area. Any movement, in any direction, would most likely spell death. A woman about a block away stood in the street screaming. Fred looked away as a dozens of attackers came from all directions and began tearing into her. He reasoned that it was a good time to make a break for it, but he stood frozen in place, knowing dozens more unseen were lurking. He was sweating and breathing fast, probably getting dehydrated, but he couldn’t afford to think about it. He crouched behind some large shrubs.
Situation Z Page 2