Apocalyptic Beginnings Box Set

by M. D. Massey

  5

  I wake before the others.

  The sun filters through the windows creating a light orange glow on the surroundings. Sometime during the night I had come back upstairs and tucked into the sleeping bag left out for me. My first thought is to get back to the laboratory where I had found the photograph. Since the place had already triggered memories for me, I want to find out more. I sit up and rub my eyes as last night's dream rushes across my mind.

  I was in a car hearing voices. A woman spoke in low hushed tones to the driver, a dark-skinned man from the laboratory.

  “We have to get as far away as possible,” she said.

  The car moved fast, and I was unable to see over the edge of the window. I knew we are headed west and something bad had happened. The people in the car kept saying phrases like “We have to take care of Ashley.” I remember feeling excited because I had never been outside the lab before.

  We had driven for a long time when we came to a large crowd sprawled across the highway. There was something wrong with all of them. We did not know yet what had happened, that the people had changed into predators. We were surrounded all at once. The driver kept going as fast as he could. Despite the danger surrounding us, I wanted nothing more than to be able to see out the window.

  I sit up in my sleeping bag, pressing away the remainder of the disturbing dream.. A sound catches my attention. A distant scratching. At first, I think it is the last remnants of my fading dream but soon realize it is not just my mind playing tricks. I do actually hear something. Rummaging through the supplies we managed to bring inside, I quickly find a baseball bat before heading back downstairs to the lower level of the atrium.

  At first glance, I cannot guess how many there are, or how deep the layers go. There are dozens of them clawing at the glass entryway to the lobby. If the glass breaks, we are all trapped. If the others were not on a higher level there would be no hope, but I take small comfort in the knowledge that they are still upstairs. I know I can handle these before they get out of hand. Two of them have gotten caught inside the revolving door but they do not have the momentum to push the door forward. If I wanted to, I could just revolve it the other direction and kick them back out to the street.

  I take a deep breath.

  Pushing open the door, I allow them through as I clasp the bat in my right hand. The two stagger around me as I back up, careful to avoid the pendulum behind me. The movements of my body alert them of my presence, right in front of them. Fresh meat. They hold back but their teeth chatter as if in anticipation. Both of them hover around me, lurching in slow motion, dead eyes waiting for something, some move from me.

  I give it to them. I circle the bat around for better leverage before I let it swing, making contact with the first one. His head knocks clean off and lands on the tile, sliding across with a sickening squelch before stopping in front of the cafe counter. I take the other one down with a quick knife jab to the side of the head.

  It is far too easy.

  They do not attack. I have seen them take down a person more times than I care to remember, enough for me to know I want nothing to do with them. I try to avoid it but, if I had to, I could walk through a crowded room of them if it came to it. I have no idea why.

  Still, I avoid them, as I don't know what would happen if one of them bit me. If they outnumbered me I could still get trampled or injured. Either way, I fight them to keep up the camouflage for when I am around other people. If I seem different from anyone else it makes me a target.

  I let in three more. In a strange way, it feels good to fight them one-on-one like this. It has been a while, and I don't like to be out of practice. Besides taking them down one at a time will help to diminish the horde pressed against the glass.

  I feel glad of the presence of Rachel and Marcus, but something about the way he looks at her puts my teeth on edge. The utter devotion which only comes from a child. It is up to me to keep them safe. I have no illusions about that.

  The creatures soon lay in a heap before the locked glass doors. I turn and watch the rest of them hammering at the transparent wall between us. I step up close to one as she presses her decaying face against the glass, snapping her teeth as if trying to bite her way through. Her dead eyes stare right through me. It would be easier to kill them if they had some kind of meanness about them, some kind of motivation behind their actions. But they just move forward until they come to something that stops them.

  I decide to let a few more through the revolving door.

  I reach forward to push the partition around, and I feel it come loose in my hand. Three more creatures had wedged between the other side and the door is stuck fast. Their movements, paired with the pressing herd behind them causes the center shaft to snap.

  “Ash?”

  Marcus' voice behind me startles me enough that I lose my footing. Swinging my head around, I see him standing in the middle of the steps watching me, his eyes wide.

  “Get back!” I say through clenched teeth as I struggle to push the glass panes back, doing my best to keep them at bay.

  It is too late. My feet slip out from under me on the slick marble floor. The glass cracks, and I fall backward, hard on my backside as the doors cave in like an umbrella turning inside out. Dozens of creatures surge through the breech, walking right past me towards Marcus. I spin around, landing on my elbows, straining through the shuffling legs to see if he has moved. I catch a glimpse of him darting around the corner at the top of the stairs. He may have a chance.

  I crouch with my arms over my head to ward off the throngs of feet stepping over me, obscuring my vision as they flood the atrium. At this rate, the entire lower floor will soon be filled with them. When the movement slows, I stand. They adjust to my presence without acknowledging and a circle of space forms around me. They slow their motions, milling about, bumping into the walls and each other. When they wander close to me, they just veer off as if I am wearing some kind of zombie repellent.

  When I step forward they part in front of me, allowing me a path through the horde. If I engaged one or attacked them, they would turn on me, but as long as I move slowly they ignore my presence. They move out of the way each time I take a step. When I reach the stairs, I can see across the atrium that about a dozen have made it into the stacks, roaming up and down the aisles. I sprint up the stairs, two at a time. Marcus and Rachel are clutched in each other's arms, both staring at me with wide questioning eyes. At the top of the stairs, Rachel had seen everything.

  “We have to move,” I say pushing past,

  grabbing my sleeping bag and shoving it into the case.

  “How did you do that?” Rachel asks.

  “We'll talk about that later.” I shove the beef jerky and the rest of the cans into the backpack, scanning over the edge of the balcony. “We have to move quickly if we have any chance of getting out.”

  “I saw you walk past them,” she says evenly. “How did you do that?”

  I keep my gaze steady as I turn back to her. She is panicking and her mind is focusing on the wrong thing right now.

  “Okay, Rachel,” I begin. “You are right. I did do that, and I'll be happy to tell you about it. But first, we need to get you and Marcus out of this building before too many of them get inside.”

  She nods. Her eyes flick towards Marcus as her rapid breathing evens out. “How are we going to get out of here?” she asks.

  “There is a set of emergency stairs over by the elevator. We need to make it down them before too many of them get inside. I don't know how secure the door is and that is our only way out. Do you understand?”

  “You can do it, right? You can walk right past them. You can get the car and crash through and come back for us?”

  “That's not how it's going to happen.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because you think I will leave you both behind.”

  She stares at me, jaws clenched, her arms draped protectively around Marcus' shoulders. I can tell b
y her expression that my guess is right.

  “We go together or not at all,” I say as I reach my hand to her. She takes it and I feel her fingers trembling.

  “What's the plan?” she asks in a quiet voice.

  “I'll go down one flight in case I have to clear the area. Then I'll signal the two of you. The door opens out to the street. Then we'll have to make our way around the building to the truck. See the door there by the elevator?”

  “Yes, I see it.”

  “Through there are the stairs. It will be dark, but stay close and let me go first. It should be clear since the inner door should still be secure, but wait for my signal. Walk fast and steady. Whatever you do, don't run. We don't want anyone to panic. Understand?”

  She nods. I meet eyes with Marcus, and he nods too. I notice a wicked determination on his face, something I have never seen before.

  I reach for the crossbow, holding it up against the edge of the balcony and aiming with careful precision. Down below I notice two drawing close to the door leading to the exit. The arrows take them down, creating a macabre wall so none of the others can approach the door. I will lose those arrows, but it is a small price to pay.

  “Okay,” I say as I swing the bow to my back. “Ready?”

  “Wait,” Rachel says, her voice high and thin. “What happens when we get outside? Won't there be more of them?”

  “They are coming from the west and if they do anything they do it in a straight line. The back of the building should be clear.”

  We do one last weapons check, nodding to each other. I can see the fear in her face, but she is holding strong. We approach the door, painted the same gray color as the wall around it. The long dead 'exit' sign hangs at a slant. I pull it open, keeping my bow down by my side. I step down the stairs doing my best to listen. All I can hear is the silence of the stale air and an occasional thump from the lower level. As soon as I make it to the first landing, I can see the door is cracked beneath me. Just enough to notice it is not latched.

  I reach down, slip the knife out of the sheath at my ankle, hold it tightly as I move forward, motioning to them with my other hand. As they move down the stairs, I adjust my body to keep myself between them and the door. Keeping three steps ahead, I reach the door to the outside first and push it open with my forearms, all of us squinting at the light. Seeing the open door and the small square of sun cast upon the dusty floor kicks all of us forward, eager to get out of the claustrophobic surroundings.

  One of the zombies from inside the library lurches against the door, pushing it further open. Marcus lets out a surprised yelp, immediately clasping his hands over his mouth realizing his mistake. All three of us burst into action, darting out the door. I push it closed behind us, but if the creatures breach the inner door, there are no guarantee it will hold.

  “Go,” I say gesturing them across the street.

  I was right about the creatures not being behind the building. Now we just have to make our way around to find the truck. My hope is that we do not have to abandon it along with all the gear in the back. Besides, I like that truck. I cannot say that about many things.

  We circle wide around the building, not crossing a single zombie until the sidewalk on the other side of the courtyard. I see the truck, the top of it at least. Parked along the edge of the sidewalk a few feet from that now broken glass wall, it is surrounded on all sides.

  “It's not worth it,” Rachel says. “We can find another vehicle.”

  “No,” I reply. “I can get it. You two stay here. Get up on that fire escape until I get back to you. We don't have time to argue. Go!”

  They scramble up to the first level as I walk forward. Once again the pathway parts before me allowing me several feet of room each time I take a step. With little effort I walk to the truck, slow and steady, open the driver’s door and crawl in. The roar of the engine makes some of them turn my way and the ones nearest begin to grasp at the windows. They fall away as the truck nudges forward. I could have floored it, but I have experienced cleaning guts out of a grill before, a task I do not wish to repeat. Once I clear the edge of the horde, I surge forward aiming for the ladder of the fire escape. The truck lurches when I jump the curb.

  Rachel and Marcus scurry down, clutching to the rungs as I back the bed underneath them. Rachel jumps down first, turning to help Marcus into the truck bed. She pulls him down and they both fall flat, burying themselves in the stash of goods. She taps her foot against the cab to signal me.

  We surge forward and I cut the wheel, heading out of town. Within minutes, the buildings fall behind us into the distance.

  I find a grassy area and pull over so they can climb up into the cab of the truck. Marcus' eyes glow and Rachel watches him with some trepidation. I think I know what she is thinking. The smirk on his face indicates that he is enjoying the adventure. He is enjoying himself far too much. I reach under the seat and pull out a large bag of beef jerky.

  “This should tide us over, but we need to get somewhere to make camp,” I say.

  “Where do we go now?” Rachel asks.

  “You said the two of you were headed east?”

  “That's right.”

  “Then I guess we are heading east.”

  The two-lane highway is vacant before us. It takes several minutes but finally her features slowly fall into a relaxed smile.

  6

  We drive in silence for a long while, the sun hanging lower in the sky behind us. Rachel keeps a wary eye on me while Marcus munches happily on his food. The countryside slips past outside the window.

  “Why are you helping us?” Rachel asks, breaking the silence.

  “What do you mean?”

  “You obviously know your way around. You can survive on your own. That much is clear, but what I don't understand is why you would help us. It would be a lot quicker to go on your own without us. It is no secret that you have some other agenda, so why did you let us tag along? You could have just as easily left us back at the mansion.”

  I keep my eyes on the road, a gray two-lane, slicing through the trees. “I suppose you're right, but what would have happened if I had done that?”

  “We would have died. I am sure of it.”

  I glance down at Marcus, unsure how to continue.

  “This is the only world he has ever known, right?”

  “Close to it. He was born shortly after the Fall.”

  “I think that a shameful truth,” I say. “If there is some way he can one day see something different than all this... I don't care any more if I see that world, but it would be enough for me to know that someone will.”

  “What about you?” she asks after a moment.

  “What about me, what?”

  “What happened to you, your family?”

  “I've been alone since I was eight,” I begin. “I don't remember much before that, but we were driving and the car hit a tree.” The memory is fresh, as it is one of the first true memories that I had. I had seen the driver here and there at the laboratory, but I did not know him personally.

  “The creatures swarmed around us immediately,” I say continuing the story to Rachel. “I hid in the back seat trying to keep as quiet as possible. I was unhurt by the accident but remained certain that my life would end within minutes.

  “It took several minutes to realize they were gone. They had not touched me. They never have since then either, unless I get their attention first.”

  She does not answer, but keeps her gaze on me for several minutes before finally turning to face the road. We drive for a long while before we see another zombie. Just the one, wandering through the field at the side of the road. The sun dips behind the tree line and darkness falls. Finally the exhaustion takes over and Rachel volunteers to drive. As much as I hate to stop at night, we pull over at the next patch of road. We both circle around the front of the truck. Marcus sleeps undisturbed in the center seat. When I slide in, his head lolls over and lands against my shoulder.

&n
bsp; * * *

  The road drones on.

  “How long have we been on the road?” Rachel asks.

  “About six hours now, I think.”

  “Do you think a fire would be a bad idea once we stop?”

  “It never has been a problem before,” I say. “If anything, it keeps them away. I'll take the first watch though, just to be on the safe side.”

  “You don't have to. I can take it.”

  “It's okay. I caught some sleep while you were driving.”

  “You did?” she asks.

  “I did,” I fib. “I'll be fine.”

  We spend the next few hours collecting firewood, all of us staying within eyesight of each other. Once we return to camp, Rachel turns up a large stump to use as a stool arranging her gathered wood onto the firepit. She begins to rub two of the sticks together.

  * * *

  “Hang on,” I say reaching into my backpack.

  “No, I've done this before. When I was younger. It might take a bit but I can get it started this way.”

  “Here,” I say with a grin as I toss her the lighter. “This might be quicker.”

  She catches it in midair. “This should help,” she replies with a wry smile.

  “You can keep that one,” I say. “I've got several.”

  I sit with my back to the tree while the two of them settle in, wrapping up in their sleeping bags. Most of the gear has made it with us even though none of it was strapped down in the back of the truck. It takes me only a few minutes to circle the camp and find the best spot to keep watch. Sleeping outside is not ideal, but the fire should keep them away. The large tree on the northern end of the circle offers the best coverage. I place my bow down, stretching out my legs in preparation for the long stretch of sitting still.