The Contaminated: Where Were You When The Pandemic Hit?

by Kypers, Ryan

  I zipped closed the pack and looked to my watch. I had already been twenty minutes. Damn, I thought that I had made better time.

  My baseball bat was leaning against the door of the deli which I grabbed and pushed open the door, bells chiming with my exit. I was greeted into the outdoors from my expedition by a hissing freak with a red mouth.

  We looked into each other’s eyes for a moment, a very long moment. Its yellow eyes gazed into my own, as if it did not know what to do with me at first and was deciding that. The moment made me imagine the contaminated standing over my dead body, cutting it up with a fork and knife as it ate away. I think that I would be okay with that sort of death.

  Fortunately my reflexes kicked in and I leapt forward, bat in hand. Without a second thought, my Rawlings bat flew through the air, colliding with the skull of the contaminated creating a hissing red vortex of blood. I stood above my kill and hit it one more time for good measure.

  “HA!” I yelled in triumph, not realizing that yelling in an abandoned town was the exact opposite way to remain stealthy and unnoticed, resulting in an angry hissing to my right.

  I looked down the street to see two of the contaminated running right at me. They weren’t moving very fast for a run, more of a light jog. Regardless, it left an imposing sight upon me.

  My first reaction was to run down the street and back into my house, but that would lead them right to my home. Two contaminated houseguests were not something that I was looking forward to. Instead, I waited until I was sure that they could see me well enough to follow and hopped back into the deli. I made my way to the back of the store as I heard two thuds colliding with the door. Fortunately, this confirmed my suspicions that the contaminated could not use conventional means of opening and closing doors. Unfortunately, they could still use unconventional means, and the door was made of glass.

  They broke through on their second try, shattering glass across the deli’s tile flooring. One stumbled over the doorway but the other stepped right over, onto the fallen contaminated and into the deli.

  As it approached me, I found the back door to the place. It had to pass behind a wall to get to where I was, creating a blind spot for me to lose it. Once it approached the edge of the cooler, blocking its view, I pushed open the back door. Little did I know that the security system only worked on back doors that day. No, no sirens went off when I stepped through the front door, but the back door is guarded against the armies of hell.

  Needless to say a blaring noise shot through the town and echoed through the surrounding hills. I didn’t care about stealth anymore, my cover was fully blown. Not bothering with the street, I made a full sprint through backyards until I hit my street, coming out directly across from my house. I think that the alarm may have actually helped me get away in the long run. The noise would have attracted any contaminated roaming in the near area to that point. My mistake may have made my job a little bit easier.

  Chelsea was standing on the front porch, looking down the street in the direction of the noise, blatant worry in her eyes. I thought about sneaking around the back to give her a scare when I showed up behind where she was looking, but thought better of it.

  I whistled a quick, sharp whistle. She didn’t hear it. I tried again, this time slightly louder and longer. Chelsea did a double take in my direction, a look of relief spread across her face. She looked up and down the street then waved me over.

  I crossed without thinking, thankful that my blunder with the deli door probably was drawing any attention that would have gone my way. I leapt up onto the porch as Chelsea held open the front door for me. She closed it sharply behind my entrance, locking it too.

  “What the hell happened?” she asked, helping me with the pack.

  “Ugh, apparently deli front doors don’t have alarm systems, only the back ones do,” I said flopping down on the couch in exhaustion. “Oh, and we’re having hot dogs for dinner.”

  “Oh, you might gain weight though!” she joked.

  “Yeah, I wouldn’t want to ruin my figure.”

  Chapter 7

  I tossed the bread and hotdogs into the freezer. Once frozen, they would keep for a while longer, making it so that we had some ‘fresh’ food every now and again, not just the canned stuff. Chelsea also had the idea of filling up multiple zip lock bags with water and freezing those too. This method gave us the water that we needed, and the blocks of ice would keep the freezer cold for a short while longer if the power ever did go out.

  I just shut the bottom freezer door when Chelsea returned to the kitchen. “Dogs for dinner?” I asked.

  “What?” She looked astounded at my question. “Oh, yeah sure. Whatever.”

  “Something wrong?” I asked.

  She frowned at me, “Yeah, we don’t have ketchup,” she said sarcastically. Chelsea walked around the kitchen table and wrapped her arms around my waist. “You could have gotten killed out there today. No more of that dangerous stuff, okay?”

  “But you just said that you wanted ketchup-“

  “Come on, I’m being serious here!” she buried her face into my chest. “I can’t lose you, even though I already am.”

  I pulled her tighter in my embrace, “Bah, I’m not going anywhere without you, and if that means going on dangerous missions to delis everywhere to get you the ketchup that you deserve, then I would do it all over again.” It felt very good saying those words to her, especially because I really meant it.

  I had never been a ‘player’ in the past, but I had very little trouble getting a girl that I had my sights on. They would always tell me how much they loved me and thought that we were the perfect couple two weeks into the relationship, or what an asshole and self-centered piggish man I had become two weeks later. And I would return their words with proper affection and warmth, but it always felt as if I was saying it, not meaning it.

  But I meant these words. Chelsea and I had become very close, albeit it was somewhat forced in regards to our current situation, but not in a bad way. We had been together before the contamination started, but we stayed together because of it. We were able to develop a closeness towards each other that was only possible because we had to survive together. I am actually almost thankful to the contaminated. Chelsea was all that I have, and I am all that she has. It was nice to know that someone was guaranteed to always be thinking about me, especially when the world was barely even limping along.

  “I would go to the ends of the earth to get ketchup for you,” I broke the silence.

  She laughed and playfully hit me on the chest, “I hate ketchup, especially when it takes you farther away from me.”

  We kissed once, twice, three times, then stopped, four times. Alright, maybe more, but I am not telling you that.

  “So what now?” I asked once we were done with our moment.

  Chelsea looked up to me, “I don’t know. What else is there really to do? It’s not like we’re living as barbarians or anything. We have food, water, and electricity. What else more can we ask for?”

  “Some TV would be nice…”

  “Oh Daryl, shush yourself. We have this, which is more than many others can ask for.”

  I laughed, “I’m only kidding. Besides, this is nice enough.”

  “It’s starting to get dark out,” Chelsea said

  “Yeah, dinner time?” I asked.

  She nodded in agreement. I went to the refrigerator and pulled out a few of the hotdogs that I did not freeze so that we could have tonight. “You think I could get away with putting this on the grill?”

  Chelsea seemed to be debating the thought in her head when I asked the question. “Well, the grill isn’t very noisy, but I wonder if the smell will attract any of the contaminated. That’s a decent risk just for hotdogs.”

  I nodded, “But they’re better on the grill.”

  “Fine,” she said uneasily. “But first sign of anything and no more grilling.”

  I leapt in the air slightly with joy. Using the grill was
a good thing. It made it feel as if the world was not a big shit pile of contaminated eating anything that moved. The ability to have almost a normal barbeque during such a crisis was really able to calm our nerves. Besides, everyone knows that hotdogs taste better when cooked on the grill, and it was manly. I am manly.

  I started the grill and waited for it to get hot enough to put the dogs on, my eyes open for any sign of movement. I threw four hotdogs on the grill once it was ready. They sizzled as soon as I placed them on, greasy fat already seeping out and burning away. The flames jumped and licked at the edges of the fatty meat, charring it the dark color of deliciousness.

  I closed the lid but could still hear the hissing. At first, I thought it was nothing but the hotdogs cooking over the flame, unfortunately for that thought, the noise was growing louder. Sonofabitch. I cut the heat to the grill and turned off the propane. I threw the still steaming hotdogs onto a plate to my side and darted into the mudroom, closing and locking the door behind me.

  “What-“

  I cut Chelsea off by raising my hand to her mouth. I put the plate of hotdogs down onto the table and pushed her down to the floor with me.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me!” She whispered. “You couldn’t have been outside for more than ten minutes. There is no way that their smell is that good.”

  I gave her a stare to quiet her, not wanting to alert the contaminated with any noise. I hoped that they were only outside because they were randomly in the area, not because the smell of hotdogs carried them here. If there was one and only one to show up, it was safe to say that it was just a random passerby who heard interesting noises, but if a whole group showed up, that meant no more barbeques.

  I motioned for Chelsea to stay put. I wanted to get a better look at what was going on outside. With careful precision, I slowly and quietly shifted my body over into the mudroom, grasping my bat while I did so.

  I got on my knees and poked my head above the door where it became a window. Two. There were two of the infected in front of me. Both with the trademarked yellow eyes and white skin, mouths dripping with red blood. One was an older lady of questionable age while the other was a man who could not have been a day over thirty one with a large belly. I wondered if that was the remains of a beer belly from so long ago, or if it had become a blood belly since his contamination.

  I could probably have taken them both, but doing so could cause a commotion, thusly attracting more of the contaminated to the area. If that happened, we were doomed to flee, assuming that we were able to survive the attack. I was not ready to give up waiting it out in this house, nor was I prepared to flee if needed.

  The hissing of the contaminated became louder as they came for a meal but did not find any. I almost felt bad for them, as if I had tricked a dog into thinking I had a treat for it then opened my hand to reveal nothing as one would tease a dog. Almost felt bad.

  The slurred communication of the monsters was becoming more and more aggressive, as if they were ready to fight each other, a nice thought. Maybe all of the contaminated could act like a bunch of pissed off teenagers and solve the world crisis by beating the living shit out of the others. That would be the amazing horror movie twist to solve the problems.

  Unfortunately that was not the case here. They simply moved off, hissing on their way. The noise slowly faded as they walked farther and farther away from my house. We finally stood up once the sound of their speech had faded away.

  “Too close,” Chelsea said. “No more of the grill for a while.”

  “I can’t believe you called that one,” I said in disbelief. “Though, I don’t think that they were there from the smell. Only two showed up. If their smell was that good then more probably would be on the deck right now, having a barbeque of their own.”

  Suddenly a shout came from the street. Startled at first, I almost fell over from shock of the noise. It was an ear tearing scream and it seemed to be moving closer to us.

  Chelsea and I each grabbed a bat and ran into the living room, pulling the curtains back to see what was happening outside. A lady who could not have been older than thirty five was hobbling down the street, a company of contaminated at her heels. She was limping on her left ankle, swollen and probably broken. There were blood marks across her shoulders and neck, and all the way down her back. Her dark hair was shiny in the dim light, possibly with blood.

  “Oh no!” Chelsea started. The person was moving as fast as she could down the street, almost making it to our house’s position. “What, what, I don’t know!” Chelsea said, her eyes turning red.

  I froze. If we helped the lady then we would let the entire contaminated in the area know that we were here and lose our home. But how could we just leave an innocent person in the street?

  “I’m going-“

  “You can’t!” Chelsea said to me, grabbing hold of my arm. “You can’t.”

  “Chels, she’s hurt!”

  “She’s going to die soon. I don’t like it any more than you do but she has obviously been contaminated,” her free hand was held up to her eyes, covering her tears. “It’s just – we can’t.”

  I stood there, watching the street, Chelsea’s hands holding me back.

  The lady kept running as fast as her broken body would carry her. The signs of her fighting plagued her body. It was obvious that she had already survived one encounter with the contaminated but she would not be making it away from this one.

  She was two houses down from my own when I saw her head turn up. Our eyes met, for one single sharp, quick second. Hope passed over her face, as if she thought that she would be getting out of her situation. There was the hope that someone would rescue her and bring her to safety. There was hope that she would not die. That hope had passed.

  The lady made it just past our house when the contaminated finally caught up with her. There were six in total. The first one to reach her grabbed her arm and pulled her down, popping the shoulder out of the socket. The rest converged on her in a matter of seconds, ripping flesh from bone and body, leaving nothing free. Her screams were finally muffled by the contaminated tearing deeper into her body.

  I looked away to my arm. Chelsea’s nails had dug into it hard. Small pellets of blood seeped from my body, lining her nails. “Chels,” I said.

  She could only cry in response. It hurt her to see a person in such pain, and she feared more than anything that she would become one of the contaminated, inflicting the pain.

  Chapter 8

  I awoke to a clatter of pots and pans smashing into the floor, the noise only slightly muffled by the carpet. I jolted upright in my bed, but not nearly as fast as I used to. Chelsea had forgotten to disable our contraption three of the last five nights when she awoke, although one night Coal tripped it, but it had the same effect.

  As tired as I was, I forced myself fully out of bed to check on Chelsea. She was sitting upright, trying to untie the bonds on her hand.

  “Sorry,” she said in the darkness. I looked at my watch – it was three in the morning. “Go back to bed,” she said.

  I gave a tired moan then walked to her bed. My hands began to compulsively take apart the ropes around her wrist. “I’m fine. Besides, I have to tie you to the bed again, once you get back.”

  My hands finished with the knots. Chelsea rubbed her wrist lightly, pecked me on the cheek, and went to the bathroom. Why did she have to do this so early every morning?

  I opened my laptop while I waited. My browser popped up with my homepage being set to the last active forum. I clicked on the chat room, hoping for someone to be awake. Unfortunately for my bored self, nobody was signed onto chat. I thought the worst for a minute, that they had been gotten by the contaminated or that their power went out, but then corrected that thought.

  I clicked off of the chat room and into the regular forum for posting any updates on the world. Buffalant909, the guy living in Buffalo, New York, had posted an article. I opened it up to read it was something that he wrote on his own w
ith a link at the end of it.

  Buffalant909 summed up the article, which happened to be about the current population of the world. He confirmed that the entire world population may have been cut in half since the start of the contamination. It was also rumored that the contamination may be from an evolved parasite which came into contact with a virus, creating the parasite virus. His summary went on to tell of the contamination most likely starting in the water supply, and that the least affected places were those gapped by a great deal of water, such as the United Kingdom and Japan. He also suggested that Australia may be the only place not affected by the contamination.

  I clicked on the article to read much of what Bufffalant909 had said in his summary, my eyes darting back and forth quickly across the screen. At the end of the article, it noted that the information had come from a research development in Germany which had sent the information all across the internet.

  At the very end of the link, the Germans posted a map of the world. The continents and separate countries were represented all with different shades of blue, the borders of different countries were outlined in black. The key at the bottom showed that the countries were represented in blue were the unaffected regions, while those blackened out were the contaminated areas. My eyes went wide at this.

  Europe, Russia, China, India, Central Africa, South Africa, Brazil, Argentina, and the Philippines – all were blackened out in the map. The damage was catastrophic. Almost all of America was in darkness, save parts of Michigan and Nebraska. Some of Canada was still in blue, but those were the northern most areas with barren tundra and extremely harsh conditions. Pretty much all of Asia was blackened in. Japan avoided this, but it still had small representations of potential contamination.

  The Germans credited their information to that of the nations which sent it. Apparently, as a last resort, the larger nations with a better grasp on what was happening had sent information in regards to what was contaminated and what was still a safe zone. The maps of China and United States were in greater detail than the areas that the contamination would spread faster, such as France or Spain which were smaller in size and close living areas.