The Zombie Plagues: The Story Of Billy and Beth

by Dell, George

  “Yeah... I'm good here,” Billy said. He wasn't though. He wanted her to stay; he just didn't know what he could do to get her to stay. Nothing, he supposed. “I'll be good. Morning's not far away.” Her arm pulled away, and a moment later he heard her soft footfalls on the stairs as she ascended them. Billy sat quietly, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the darkness, his machine pistol in his hands.

  The Fold

  Jessie Stone's Journal

  We have walked for days. The desert seemed never ending, plateaus, sand dunes, the bleached bones of cattle. The sun rose, the sun fell. On the fifth day we came upon the river. It was wide and deep and seems never ending. From then on we followed the river.

  The place we chose is a long low valley with the river nestled between her walls. Verdant green fields poured away to both sides of the valley. I stood and looked down upon the land and although I said nothing, we were no longer searching for a home.

  We set up a rough camp beside the river that first night. With those that we had picked up along the way, the Fold numbers just twenty-four souls. Within a week we will have rough shelters going up, we have already started. A long, low overhang, that can shelter us from the weather, and can become our home for the next several months as we build River Crossing. I, unfortunately, will not be one of the ones to build it. It will have to be done in my absence.

  We had left word when we were in Snoqualmie, a quickly thrown together ramshackle settlement back in Washington State, that we would be pushing on toward the east coast. We have some of our own that stayed behind there, and so we will have to send word back, that we have stopped somewhere east of the old Texas border and will make this place our home: Things to be worked out.

  We, myself, and a few others, will leave in the morning to push on to the east coast. I can't leave it like this. I have to know what is or isn't left. If we find nothing, we will make our way back here and collect those we find along the way, if we find others to the east, we will decide what to do then. I am only glad to write that there is a world outside of Washington.

  About this world: It is in a very bad way. The governments are gone. There are dead rising, it defies everything I know as a doctor, but they are. We have come across the phenomenon several times. One of our own died under my care, turned and came back a few short hours later. I don't know what to think, except as we move through towns and the outskirts of cities that still stand the dead are there in ever increasing numbers. A note of interest, we have picked up a young doctor and added him to our group. Very fortunate I believe.

  As we leave in the morning, another group will go back to Snoqualmie and get the ones who remained moving in our direction. I will keep this as we go. We hope to come back here before too long, and get River Crossing established before winter for The Fold.

  L.A.

  Billy and Beth: March 11th

  Billy was up on the roof. Beth, Jamie, Winston and Scotty were standing at the edge of the building as he was, looking out over the city. Things were crazy, and they seemed to be getting worse as the days rolled by.

  The police precinct was still burning. It had started sometime during the night two days before, and since there was no one to put the fire out, it had been raging for hours now. A few minutes ago, the roof of the building next door to the precinct burst into flames. Maybe the fire had started inside, or the extreme heat from the burning police precinct had caused it to burst into flame, spontaneous combustion, but it was a strange thing to watch. It appeared as though it had simply burst into flames all on its own.

  The animated conversation about whether it had been spontaneous combustion or a fire source from inside the other building that had simply burned through, had kept up for a few moments, and then they had all lapsed back into silence. Beth spoke now.

  “Where would we go?” she asked.

  “I think southeast,” Scotty threw in.

  “Why not north or northeast,” Jamie asked.

  “Makes no difference, I suppose, but this winter it might. That's why I think southeast.” Billy said.

  Beth nodded. “What's the radio say?”

  “It's bad everywhere. Different people, different days, all talking about the dead. Some talk about the living too, gangs, shit like that, but the big deal is the dead. Every major city... Boston, Hartford, Manhattan, San Fran, Providence, Scranton, Miami... there are more. Every day you hear more places, and that's bad. But then there are the ones that you don't hear from anymore, and that's even worse,” Billy said.

  “So how is southeast better?” Beth asked.

  “Might not be better, as far as the dead are concerned: It might not be, but it will be warmer. I mean, no problem now, but winter isn't really over up north, and it will come again, and we had better be somewhere with our supplies settled in for it,” Billy answered.

  Beth nodded. “All of us?”

  “A few others,” Winston said. “Emma, down street. She has a baby. Don and Ginny across the street. They got a few friends too.”

  “Babies... I don't know about babies,” Billy said. “Adults, okay. Children are bad enough, but babies? How do we take care of them?”

  “Billy, should we leave them here to die?” Scotty asked.

  “Fuck, Scotty. I didn't say that. Do we invite them along to get killed? I mean we're leaving the safety... Talking about leaving the safety of this building and going on the road.”

  Beth raised her hand. “Scotty misspoke, or you mistook what he said. Can we agree on that?” Scotty turned away and then turned back and nodded. Billy nodded too. “Tomorrow... Tomorrow we scout it out. We need trucks... not a car. Something that can get us over the bad spots. And we'll have to see how far we have to go before we can hope to drive. We sure as hell can't drive here.” She shrugged.

  “Tomorrow,” Billy agreed.

  “Yeah,” Scotty added.

  Beth turned and looked back over the city, watching the building next to the precinct burn.

  Watertown New York

  Forty miles to the west of Watertown a small caravan of Jeeps moved slowly through the morning light down a cracked and tilted roadway. The caravan had been forced to detour around several breaks and washouts in the pavement of the road. They had constantly been forced to stop as well, and push stalled vehicles out of their way.

  They had spent the night in an abandoned state park that fronted lake Ontario. The water that had once lapped at the beach had retreated several hundred yards back, and the weeded and muddied floor of the lake lay naked and exposed. They had spoken little, and had not slept well. Several of them had been awakened during the night by vivid nightmares. The events of the last several days weighed heavily on all of them, and most of them were unable to shut themselves down far enough to sleep, preferring to push until exhaustion took them, forcing what they could not do naturally. After a quick discussion, they had left even before the sun had begun to fully rise over the water, and resumed their journey. Heading toward Rochester. They had seen a glow in the west the last few nights, and so they were hopeful they would find help there.

  ~

  To the west, in the city of Rochester, the sun had risen slowly, revealing her quiet streets.

  As the sun had risen, the street lights that had held the darkness back, switched off.

  Small groups of people walked her streets as if lost. Some had lived there, but most had made the short trek from the surrounding communities. Others were on their way. Already there was a battle for control of the western New York city. Her power was still on and that made it an ideal stronghold.

  The groups were trying to wait each other out, but shortly after sunrise the gunfire began between a group from the south side and another from the west. Most had no idea who they were fighting or even why they were fighting, they were unsure. As the battle began in earnest some groups began to join forces, and by mid-morning the entire city was under siege, innocents caught in the crossfire or forced to flee.

  ~

  Far
above the Earth, satellites continued to orbit importantly.

  The north American continent lay sleeping far below. A wide inland sea had formed in the middle, fed by a huge river that stretched from the former Hudson bay, to the Gulf of Mexico. The river, along with the inland sea, split the continent in two from ocean to ocean. Small in places and easily crossed as if it were no more than a river. Wide in other places as if it truly were an ocean.

  The state of Alabama, which had lain directly in its path, was divided in two by the river where it made its way to the Gulf and into the ocean beyond. What resulted was the loss of the lower, southern half of the state. It now sat nearly forty miles out in a shallow bay that was quickly turning to sea: An island, the water surrounding it growing deeper as time moved on and the gulf reclaimed the land.

  The smaller eastern section of the continent had already begun to drift. Although it was imperceptible, the two land masses were inching away from one another, and ultimately would be separated by a new ocean. And become separate, smaller continents.

  The eastern end of the former United States, was also drifting away from the northern section of Canada. The massive earthquakes had also severed the state of Michigan, turning it into a virtual island.

  Parts of Indiana had succumbed to the water too. And the states of Ohio, Kentucky, Tennessee, and Alabama, had been split in two, along with the upper western edge of the state of Florida.

  Toward what had been the north, the St. Lawrence river had widened, pushing the land masses further apart. The Thousand Islands bridge spans had toppled, and slipped into the cold waters. The other bridges that had once spanned the mighty river, had succumbed as well, as the river basin had split and pulled apart.

  The new continent had also severed her ties from Nova Scotia, as she had been pulled south and slightly east, to begin her journey. Only the province of New Brunswick, and a small portion of Quebec remained with the continent. The rest of Canada was severed from them by the wide and deep river, more like a huge lake in places, that surged from ocean to ocean.

  Most of the north American continent was now in a sub-tropical climate as well. The poles had been displaced by the huge force of the multiple earthquakes and volcanic blasts. The old polar caps were melting, and it would be thousands of years before they would once again re-form in their new locations.

  The run-off, from the melting ice, would eventually reach the oceans, and even more land mass would be sacrificed to the waves, before the polar caps would be re-formed.

  There were only thirteen full states left on the small continent. The two former provinces of Canada, one of which was only a small fragment. And parts of five former states, the largest being Florida.

  Before the dawn, fires could be seen spreading in many major cities, unchecked, and burning quickly with the help of freak winds the flames continued in all directions, occasionally fueled by chemical, and oil facilities, as well as numerous other flammable sources they encountered, destroying the cities.

  Protected by tons of rock above it, project Blue-chip survived the onslaught with very little damage.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Leaving

  Billy and Beth: March 12th

  To leave the city with nine people they were going to need a truck, and that was going to have to wait until they made their way out of the city and all the stalled and wrecked vehicles that clogged the main streets.

  They had hoped to cross over the river on the Firestone Boulevard bridge, but after a three hour walk, most of which consisted of crawl-walking over the tops of stalled vehicles, they had been forced to turn back when they reached the beginning of the bridge. The bridge was gone, the pavement gone leaving a ragged drop into the water below, and the river seemed to be much deeper than usual, nearing the tops of the concrete side to side, and fast moving.

  They had debated back tracking and crossing the river to the west instead. Billy had pretty much let Beth decide. She was, after all more familiar with the city, and he was not. In the end they had decided to continue south toward the freeway where they could hope for a better crossing. That had caused an argument between Billy and Jamie that had only ended because Billy had walked away from her.

  “You want her, not me. Her... Why don't you just say it, Billy... Just say it.” She screamed the last as Billy picked up his pace walking faster still. There was nothing he could say. It was true after all, and the truth couldn't be hidden in these circumstances.

  The light was fading from the day as he found a small shop, the glass covered by steel panels. The panels were dented, even punctured in a few places by something he assumed had been heavy and sharp, possibly an ax, but they had held. He rolled a cigarette and stood, one boot heel resting against the brick wall behind him, the other holding his weight on the cracked concrete. He watched Beth as she walked toward him.

  She smiled. “Roll one for me?”

  Billy rolled one and handed it to her. She fished a lighter from her own pocket and lit it.

  “We have to settle in for the night... Too dark to keep on. Who knows what sort of freaks are waiting for night to make a move on us.”

  Billy nodded. “Dozens... No doubt...” He sighed. “We'll need a place for all of us.” He tapped his free hand against the brick. “Place looks untouched, it will take a little work to get in but we could spend the night here.”

  Beth inhaled deeply and let the smoke roll slowly out of her mouth. She turned the cigarette around and looked at it. “Killing me, I know it, and I couldn't care less. Tastes so fucking good and calms down that itch in my brain.”

  Billy laughed. “I'm pretty sure it doesn't matter what we do know. I think the life expectancy of the human race just dropped a whole shit load.”

  Beth laughed along with him, took another hard pull on the cigarette, looked at it once more and dropped it to the pavement. She ground it out with her boot heel. She raised her eyes to Billy and the laughter was gone, ground out like the cigarette. He knew the next words she spoke would be serious, but he wasn’t prepared for them when they came a few moments later. “It's just you and me.” She frowned as she finished.

  “What?”

  “What? Come on, Billy, what did you think she was gonna do? You knew this was a problem... Scotty ran you down after you walked away... It took very little to turn them around... They're heading south... Lynwood Park, I think. Scotty thinks there are safe places there and more people too.”

  “And? … What did you say?”

  Beth shrugged. “I said go... If you fall apart after a little tough walking we don't need you...”

  “Jamie?”

  Beth laughed, but the laugh didn't touch her eyes, instead they narrowed, hurt. “Called me a cunt. Told me I could have you.”

  “Wow... Right to the C word... Must have been pissed...” Billy straightened from the wall. “But you stayed with me.”

  “Yeah... About that.... Nothing's changed, Billy. I don't want us to get off on the wrong foot. I like you... I even like you a great deal, but you're not the guy for me... I don't know where that guy is. Even if I let you be the guy you couldn't handle me, Billy.”

  She had shifted her rifle from her shoulder, she stepped forward now and rested the barrel end against the fat padlock that held the steel shutters on one side. “Better move off a little further,” Beth told him. “I have no idea how this is gonna go.”

  The noise was deafening in the quiet late afternoon. A flock of pigeons startled from a nearby rooftop, lifted into the air. Billy followed them with his eyes as they lifted into the gloom. Suddenly a larger shadow appeared above the pigeons and a split second later a much larger bird dropped into the flock, talons extended, and emerged with a pigeon clasped in those same talons. The bird wheeled, climbing on an air current and then began to drop to a nearby roof where it apparently had a nest.

  “Jesus,” Billy breathed.

  Beth chuckled. “Hawk,” she turned her eyes back to the padlock. “Come on, Billy, lets get dow
n for the night.” She reached down and carefully pulled the jagged metal from the eye holes where it had rested in the bottom of the steel frame. Together they lifted the shutters.

  L.A.: March 13th

  Beth and Billy

  The trek east out of the city was much harder than Billy and Beth had thought it would be.

  It was close to noon before they reached Alameda, and decided to try to find some kind of four wheel drive vehicles, at one of the many car lots that dotted it.

  It had been slow going until they reached the El Segundo Boulevard. The stalled traffic had been much lighter there, and they had been able to drive part of the way by cutting into the parking lots of fast food restaurants, that dotted almost the entire length of the highway. They had followed that to Willmington, and picked up a truck that had seen better days. Getting the truck had not been a problem; there were several used car lots along the road. They had used the parking lots to swing around the worst of the traffic, and that had worked well until they had intersected Compton Boulevard. It was hopelessly packed with stalled traffic. They had left the truck, which had sounded as if it was close to dying anyway, and struck out on foot again. Beth led the way as they cut cross lots through Compton Woodley Airport.

  Crossing the dead airfield had been unnerving for both of them. The runways had cracked, and either lifted skyward, or tilted down into the ground. Several blackened skeletons of large aircraft dotted the airfield. Most of them were so badly burned that they had been unable to tell what they had been before. Billy thought a couple of them may have been military aircraft, but as badly twisted as they were it was impossible to be sure.

  One large plane sat tilted skyward on a chunk of runway that had separated from the surrounding pavement. The plane looked untouched, and almost as though it was some sort of rocket ship waiting to be launched skyward. Luggage, some burned, some untouched, was scattered across the airfield in every direction, and many of the suitcases were burst, with papers and clothing scattered everywhere along with other personal effects. There were bodies here too.