Apex Predator

by Glyn Gardner

  She thought about Davy. How scared he must have been. She shuddered at the thought. She could still see the look on the boy’s face. She was sure she could see tears in his eyes as he raised his father’s gun. That face will surely haunt her for the rest of her life.

  Mike tapped her lightly on the shoulder as he slid closer. She let out the slightest squeal.

  “Ssshhh,” he whispered lightly.

  “Sorry. You scared the shit out of me.”

  “Well, it’s about to get worse.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He leaned closer to her, his lips almost touching her ear. “It’s Tom.”

  “What? What’s wrong with him?”

  “He’s burning up over here.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean he feels like he has a fever.”

  “Oh, shit. You don’t think he’s…” Her mind wouldn’t let her form the words.

  “I think we have to consider it as possible.”

  “Let me over there,” she whispered as she slid past him. She could feel it before she touched him. Tom was giving off heat like a furnace. She found his hand in the dark. He was soaking wet. She slid her hand up his arm, finding his chest. His breathing was rapid and shallow. His heart was beating a mile a minute.

  God, she thought, I could assess him so much better if I could turn on a light. Ok, start with the basics Jen. Airway: check, breathing: check, circulation: check. Vitals: Temp: at least 102, heart rate: about 140, respirations: above 30. She leaned in close to him.

  “Tom,” she whispered. “Can you hear me Tom?”

  “I can hear you,” he whispered weekly. “I feel like hell, Jen.”

  “I know Tom. You’re burning up with fever. How long you been feeling bad? You have anything like a runny nose or nausea in the past few days?”

  “Na. I was fine ‘till we got locked in this damned room. You think maybe I got the flu or something? The receptionist at work was out all week last week with something. Maybe I got it from her.”

  Jen could tell he was trying to convince himself as much as her. “Sure Tom might just be the flu. ‘Tis the season, you know.” She stroked his hair. She leaned back to Mike. “I don’t know. He’s got fever without other symptoms. Hell, it could be flu or strep for all I know.”

  “Ok, can you do anything for it?”

  “I’m sure there’s something in this store room that might help, but I can’t see anything.”

  “I have a little flashlight. I can try to look.”

  “You sure those things won’t see the light?”

  “I can shield the light so they won’t,” he promised. He stood straight up, pulling the small flashlight out of his pocket. He twisted the end sending out a surprisingly bright beam. He quickly cupped his hand around the end, dimming the light.

  Jen got up and stepped next to him. He panned the light around the shelves. After several minutes, they found a shelf that had some medicines on it. A few more minutes, and they found a bottle of generic Acetaminophen. Jen snatched it of the shelf, opening the top as she did.

  She kneeled next to Tom. She shook out several of the tablets, and handed him a bottle of water.

  “Here Tom, take these,” she whispered as she did. He tried to raise his arm, but couldn’t. She placed the pills on his tongue, and held the water bottle up to his lips. He took several gulps, before pulling away.

  “Thanks Jen. Thanks for everything.”

  “It’s ok Tom.”

  “No it’s not. You and Mike didn’t have to stop and help me and my boy. You could have just kept on going. And you’d have been right to do so. But, you didn’t. You stopped and rescued an old man and his kid who you didn’t even know.”

  “It was the right thing to do, Tom.”

  “Well, I have another right thing to ask you. I need you to take care of Larry.” The request hit Jen like a hammer. She knew what he was asking. And, she knew he knew what his fate held.

  “Oh, Tom…” She began to sob.

  “Now you stop. You and I both know that I was exposed to …to…to whatever this is. Now I’m sick. Shit Jen you’re a nurse. You know how this goes. I want you to send Larry over here. I need to talk to him.”

  “Tom…I…I’m sorry. I’m so sorry…” She began to cry uncontrollably. She tried to muffle the sounds. Her body convulsed. Tears ran down her cheeks. She turned in the dark, and scooted towards the teens. She found them sleeping in each other’s arms. She wiped the tears from her face.

  “Larry,” she whispered. “Your dad needs you.”

  “What?” he asked. “What do you mean?”

  “Baby, your dad is sick and needs to talk to you.”

  “What do you mean he’s sick,” he asked raising his voice. “He was fine a few hours ago.”

  “Ssshh baby, just go over to him.”

  He crawled to the corner where his father lay. He too could feel the heat emanating from his father. He held his dad’s hand. “Dad, Miss. Jen said you was sick and need me.”

  “Son, I am sick. I don’t know how sick, but I might not be able to take care of you for a while.”

  “What do you mean, Dad?”

  “I mean that until I get better, I need you to do everything that Mr. Mike and Miss Jen tell you to. Do you understand?”

  “Yes sir.” Tears began welling in the boy’s eyes.

  “I love you son. I’m sorry I wasn’t always there for you and your mama. I always loved the both of you…” His voice trailed off. Larry could hear his father’s breathing change.

  “Miss. Jen,” he cried. “He’s not breathing right. Help him.”

  Jen slid in beside him. She gasped. She’d seen this before. The textbooks called this agonal breathing. It was a sign of impending death. She grasped Larry’s arm.

  “I’m sorry, baby. I can’t do anything for him. He’s dying.”

  The boy felt the blood drain from his face. “Is he going to turn into one of them?”

  “I don’t know Larry,” she replied. “I’m afraid that he might.”

  He began crying. He curled up on the floor, holding his father. The sound of the boy crying and the father gasping was too much for Jen. She broke down crying also. Mike crawled to the little group.

  “You guys need to keep it down,” he hissed.

  “That boy’s father is about to die Mike, and it’s my fault. So I’m sorry if Larry and I decide to have a fucking pity party,” her voice growing louder with each word.

  “Wait, he’s dying now?”

  “Yes, shouldn’t be too long. Shit Mike, I shoulda been more careful out there this evening. I just heard that helicopter and…”

  “You need to be more careful now,” he shot back. “We don’t know how many of those things are in this store. You keep this up, and they’re going to hear you.”

  “Sorry Mike. This just doesn’t…doesn’t seem real.”

  “I know,” he paused. “What do we do about Tom?”

  “I don’t know. I can’t do it. Can you?”

  “I don’t know. Not in front of his son I can’t.” He thought for a moment. “We need to move. We can’t stay here after he’s dead.”

  “How?”

  “I have no idea. Shoot our way to the cars, and then drive like hell. Maybe try sneaking to the cars,” he replied.

  “I don’t know either. I’ll keep an eye on Tom until he passes. I’ll let you know when he does.”

  Mike leaned against the door, trying to wrap his mind around the latest development. He was pretty sure Tom was going to turn into one of those things. He was pretty sure that someone would have to kill it when he did. He was afraid that it was going to be a noisy affair. Shit! He thought. What else could possibly go wrong?

  Alright Mike, get it together. Stop dwelling on the bad breaks, and come up with some solutions. Your wife and those two kids still need you to get them out of this.

  First, we can’t stay here. We have to get to the cars. How and when? He deci
ded that no matter what, when Tom died they were leaving. But, how were they going to get past a convenience store full of zombies? His hand instinctively began caressing the black pistol on his hip. He did some quick math: Two pistols, 1 rifle, and a shotgun; himself, Jen who was lucky to hit a man sized target at 20 paces, and the two kids who both knew something about guns. He guessed they could probably take five or six zombies, but not many more.

  Next, if they left where would they go? They did have gas and some supplies. They could drive for about four hours if they took it slow and easy. But then what? The route to the highway seemed like it would be easy to get to. Then where? To get to Alexandria they’d have to get on I-49. That almost guaranteed going through Shreveport. So, they get out and head east towards Monroe. No big cities between here and there.

  He finally let himself relax. He had a plan. He just hoped he’d have a little while before he’d have to implement it. He dozed off to sleep, thinking he should have told the others his plan before he did.

  Mike felt like he had just fallen asleep when Jen shook him awake. He pressed the button on his wrist watch: 0400. Wow, he’d slept for nearly 5 hours. He started to stretch, his watch scraping the inside of the door he was leaning against. He stopped immediately. Oh crap! How loud was that? He listened for sounds of un-life on the other side of the door. He didn’t hear anything.

  Oh shit, Tom! “Is he dead?” he whispered.

  “Yes,” She whispered.

  “How’s Larry taking it?”

  “He’s still asleep. I wanted to wake you first. What do we do now? I still can’t do it.”

  “No, we get the hell out of here. It sounds like it’s pretty empty out there. Let’s get to the cars and head towards Monroe.”

  She didn’t say anything. She just crawled to the two teens. Mike could hear her as she woke them up. He could hear Larry ask Jen if it was over. Then he heard the young man start to cry. Next he heard Jen wake Theresa. She too asked if “he’s dead.” They all shuffled to the door where Mike waited.

  “Ok, Larry, you got the keys to that yellow car?”

  “No sir, I think they’re in my dad’s pocket. You still want two cars?” the youngster whispered.

  “Yeah, I do. The more space we have, the more stuff we can carry, and the more options we have.”

  “Ok, I’ll get them. I need to say good-bye anyway.” The boy crawled over to the corner where the body of his father lay. Mike could hear the boy crying as he searched his father’s pockets. Jingle, Jingle, good he had them.

  Suddenly, they heard a moan. It was faint at first, like air escaping from a bellows. They heard another, this one louder. Then they heard Larry grappling with something. CRASH, a section of shelving fell to the floor.

  “Mike!” in a loud whisper

  “Larry. You ok?” asked Mike as he flipped on the lights.

  Larry was on his back, his father’s re-animated corpse on top of him. He had one hand around his father’s neck, and the other reaching towards Mike and Jen. Mike reached for his pistol. BANG! It was the shotgun. Theresa had fired first. Stunned, Mike first looked at the teenage girl, then back to the fight. Larry was on the ground howling in pain, blood pouring from several wounds in his neck and face. Tom’s head had exploded and his lifeless body now lay across his son’s body, black blood pouring onto his son.

  “Oh Jesus!” cried Theresa. “Larry! I didn’t mean to shoot Larry.”

  Mike took two steps to cover the

  distance to the boy and his father. He grabbed the pistol out of the boy’s waistband. He aimed it at the wounded child’s head. “Sorry Larry.” BANG! The boy stopped howling.

  “Go! Get to the Tahoe,” he barked.

  Jen threw the lock and opened the door. Theresa hesitated for a second. She was still in shock from shooting Larry. A large zombie was standing in the doorway. Jen screamed in terror, backing away from the door. The large zombie advanced on her, reaching for her as it did. In her panic, Jen backed into Mike, knocking him to the ground and sending Larry’s pistol skittering across the floor.

  The zombie continued to advance on the two. Mike crab walked backwards, trying to free his own pistol as he did. Jen rolled left, towards the now lifeless bodies of the Landry family. As the zombie passed the still stunned Theresa, it turned on her.

  “Theresa!” yelled Jen.

  At the last possible moment, Theresa kicked the ghoul in the chest, sending it staggering back a couple of steps. She pumped the shotgun and shoved the barrel under the zombie’s chin. BANG! The top of its head exploded in a blackish-pink mist. She pumped the shotgun again.

  “C’mon you guys. We’ve got to go,” ordered the teenage girl. She turned and exited the store room. Mike and Jen got up, following the teen.

  “Grab the rifle,” Mike told her as he picked up the pistol.

  BANG! Click-click, BANG! Click-click. Jen entered the front of the store, rifle at the ready. Theresa had dispatched two more ghouls. There were three more in the store, and another coming in through the front door. Jen took aim at the closest zombie. CRACK! She hit it in the shoulder. It stumbled backwards, but continued closing on the teenager.

  CRACK! This time she struck the monster in the neck, severing its spine. It dropped to the floor, unable to do anything more than open and close its mouth.

  By now, Mike had emerged. BANG! BANG! BANG! He dropped two more zombies, leaving the one closest to the door. Theresa advanced on it, shotgun to her shoulder. At about three paces, she pulled the trigger: CLICK! The gun was empty. Fighting back panic, she began backing up. Mike came from behind her, and dispatched the last monster in the store. He handed her his .40 cal.

  “Here, give it back when we get to the truck.”

  They opened the front door. There were three monsters between them and the Tahoe and a couple more that were closing on the store. Mike took careful aim. BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! The three monsters fell to the ground, for the final time.

  “Go!” shouted Mike.

  The three sprinted to the Tahoe in a macabre race with the living dead. They reached the SUV, well ahead of those ghouls that were bent on devouring them. Jen jumped into the driver’s seat, Mike the passenger seat, and Theresa in the back seat. With a roar, the big Chevy came to life.

  “There are more shotgun shells in my backpack,” Mike told Theresa. She rummaged through the rear of the vehicle as Jen gunned the engine. Tires squealed as she fishtailed out of the parking lot.

  The Burger Joint

  SSgt Brown woke to the sound of gunfire. It was pretty close. It didn’t sound like

  M-16’s or any other military weapons. That meant civilians.

  “Jackson. You awake?”

  “Roger Sergeant. I been up since you woke me at 0300.”

  “Any idea what’s up?”

  “Sounds like some civvies are up the street shooting it out with Zed.”

  “How long?

  “Just started. I count three weapons: Shotgun, rifle, and pistol. I figure at least two survivors out there.”

  “What time is it?” asked the noncom.

  “0405,” answered the trooper.

  “Ok, sit tight and keep your eyes open. That’s going to draw some attention. We got a few hours yet before we need to be at the PZ.”

  They both heard the engine start. Shit, thought the NCO, they have a car, then the squealing of tires. The sound of the engine was getting closer. Shit, thought SSgt Brown. There were people out there. They were in Indian country. They sure sounded like they could use some help. If nothing else, they were armed and could at least help each other out. Plus, he might be able to get them on the bird and onto the safety of the air force base.

  “Jackson, what’s the Zed situation outside?”

  “Clear to the road. Why?”

  “Out the window trooper, we’re going to rescue some more civvies.”

  “Shit,” he replied; then, “Roger Sergeant.” He climbed out the drive-through window, dropping quietly
to the ground. He crouched down, weapon at the ready. His NCO followed him out, taking a position to his left. They could both see the lights of the big SUV as it sped towards them on the road.

  “Flashlight,” ordered the NCO.

  Jackson pulled the L shaped flashlight with the red filter off of his left shoulder. With his right thumb, he pressed the button several times, flashing the red light at the approaching civilians.

  “What the hell is that?” asked Mike, pointing at the flashing red light near the fast food restaurant. “Shit, pull over! It looks like people.” Jen let off the gas and braked as she turned into the parking lot. The headlight shone on two kneeling figures in military gear, rifles held at the ready.

  “Theresa, you find those shells?” asked Jen.

  “Yes ma’am. I’m re-loaded.”

  “Good, be ready. Not sure what’s up here.”

  The taller of the two soldiers stood and walked to the driver’s side of the SUV. The shorter black trooper kept his weapon pointed down the road in the direction they had come. Jen rolled down the window.

  “Was I speeding officer?”

  SSgt Brown couldn’t help but chuckle at that. “I’m Staff Sergeant Brown, Louisiana National Guard, and ma’am, Would you mind turning off your headlights? It’s killing my night vision, and they’re probably going to attract some unwelcome attention.” She turned off the headlights, but not the engine.

  “Sergeant,” said Mike. “You and your trooper may want to get in the truck. We probably passed twenty or so of those monsters. They know where we are and I’m sure they’ll be here shortly.”

  “Sounds good to me,” he replied. “Jackson, these nice folks have offered to give us a ride.”

  “Yes sir,” the young trooper said. He climbed in the back seat next to Theresa, followed by SSgt Brown. Jen rolled her window up.

  “Where you guys headed,” SSgt Brown asked.

  “Monroe,” answered Mike. “Radio was saying something about a refugee center there or Alexandria. How about you guys? You guys the cavalry?”