Apoc Series (Vol. 2): Silence of the Apoc [Tales From The Zombie Apocalypse]

by Wilsey, Martin (Editor)

  Emiko appeared behind the struggling men and swung a fire extinguisher. The heavy red metal canister connected with the back of the man’s skull. It seemed to stun him for a moment. Shintaro pushed the man off him and managed to get to his feet. Just as quickly, the man recovered and attacked Emiko. She swung the fire extinguisher once more, scoring a glancing blow on his shoulder before he was upon her. She tried backing away, fending the man off with her makeshift weapon. He was relentless. He found a handhold on her suit jacket and tried tugging her closer.

  Shintaro’s blade flashed out behind Emiko and her attacker. The swing caught the man on the back of the neck where it cut clean through. Emiko’s attacker left his head behind as the body still surged forward. After a few seconds, the movement stopped, and it fell lifeless to the floor.

  “Come on!” Shintaro said in Japanese, offering his hand to Emiko. She took the offered hand, and the two ran, leaving the body and discarded fire extinguisher behind. It was at that moment the carnage of the room swept over the entire convention center.

  Shintaro discarded his suit jacket. Everyone was now running. Some people panicked and stood screaming. Those were the first to fall to the wave of crazed people overtaking the Javits Center. A mob of at least forty people attacked and they took down individuals like a pack of hyenas. They tore into their victims, feasting on their internal organs. They consumed intestines, livers, and hearts before moving on to the next victim. The group seemed to grow minute by minute, as if other people were being infected by the madness. Seemingly dead people were rising from the floor to attack others.

  Shintaro and Emiko made it to the main entrance of the convention center. Shintaro found his phone in his pocket and dialed 911 as the pair ran. He was met with a message informing him all circuits were busy. “Of course they are,” Shintaro said, cursing the criminals of America.

  He tried several times to connect to the emergency line, to no avail. He tried to hail a cab but found traffic was at a standstill. It appeared an accident had happened down the block. Shintaro could see multiple sirens through the sea of cars. He saw a separate incident of two medics attending to a man lying prone on the sidewalk. “We’ll have to run,” Shintaro said, as the two continued down the sidewalk.

  As they ran, Shintaro punched in the address to the Japanese consulate on his cellphone GPS. Two miles. Shintaro could run that in twenty minutes. He could not, however, do that with Emiko and certainly not while she wore high heels. “Emiko,” Shintaro said, stopping abruptly, “lose your shoes. We can run faster without them. I will stop at the first shoe store and get you sneakers.”

  Emiko complied and kicked her shoes off, and the two began running once more. Behind them, he could see the crazed mob pouring from the convention center and out into the streets. If his eyes were not deceiving him, the size of the group had more than doubled since they had escaped the building. They fell upon people passing by in the streets. Shintaro kept running with Emiko in tow. There was no going back. He had killed. He had witnessed death. He knew the world was about to change, and not for the better.

  As they neared the end of the first mile, Shintaro saw a sporting goods store. They went in and noticed everyone was standing at the glass windows watching something across the street. “Find your size, and we must go,” Shintaro said as Emiko hurried into the back of the store.

  He turned his attention to what the other store patrons had been watching. Two NYPD officers were struggling with an uncooperative man across the street. The man was lying on top of one of the officers as they fought on the ground, a discarded taser nearby. The other officer was hitting the man repeatedly with his baton. Nothing seemed to affect the man. The man sank his teeth in the officer’s neck and ripped free a section of the man’s throat. Blood spouted like a geyser. The other officer wrapped the baton around the man’s neck and hauled him from his partner. It was then that Shintaro saw the milky bloodshot eyes.

  Shintaro whipped the door open and made his way through the stopped cars as he crossed the street. He could hear the animalistic snarls of the man as he struggled with the police. The officers never noticed as Shintaro drew his sword and slammed the point of it through the man’s ear. The katana came cleanly out through the other side of the man’s head. His struggles stopped immediately, and his body went limp. The policeman was stunned by what they had just seen. They looked at Shintaro with a look of shock and appreciation. “Kill them,” Shintaro said to the officer. “They are not human anymore.”

  “Hold it,” the standing officer said to Shintaro as he drew his gun. “You’re under arrest! Officer down—I repeat, officer down!”

  Shintaro knew they would not yet understand what was happening. They had not seen what he had at the convention center. He kept walking across the street. He heard the officer’s radios come to life telling them to report to the Javits Center to assist in controlling a riot. “You should go,” Shintaro shouted, as he crossed the street. “Aim for their heads. It seems to stop them.”

  “Stop right there!” The officer shouted again, now crossing the street to come arrest Shintaro. He stopped and started talking on his radio, telling his dispatcher he would be making an arrest, required backup, and cursed about where the ambulance was.

  Before he could finish his sentence, his partner attacked him from behind. Shintaro heard the man scream as the other officer tore into his neck. The two struggled as the officer pleaded with his partner, asking why he was attacking him. With a heavy heart, Shintaro went back and killed the infected policeman. He put the katana into the officer’s eye and forced it through the back of his skull. The man dropped instantly. Only then did Shintaro see the gaping bite wound on the officer’s forearm.

  The other officer was still standing clutching his wound. Shintaro felt sorry for the man. He felt sorry for anyone who had no idea what was descending on this city. He leaned down and picked up the officer’s discarded Glock. He put the gun firmly in the man’s hand and said, “What happened to him will happen to you. If you value the lives of others, use this weapon on yourself.” Shintaro turned to go. “I am sorry.”

  The officer was too winded and stunned to answer or try to arrest Shintaro again. Time was precious now. Shintaro went back into the store to fetch Emiko. The other people in the store all backed away from Shintaro. Fear and amazement played across all their faces. Emiko was coming from the back of the store wearing a brand new pair of cross trainers. Shintaro pulled a few bills from his pocket and threw them onto the counter. He and Emiko exited the store and continued on their way to the consulate.

  Two blocks later they came across another accident. Shintaro knew this was no coincidence. Firemen were cutting one car open. Medics performed CPR on the driver of the other car. Blood poured from a deep wound in the woman’s head. Shintaro quickened his pace. As the firefighters pulled the door off of the other car, a child leaped out and sunk his teeth into his rescuer’s face. The man had not been wearing his helmet. The face shield may have saved his life. The crazed child ripped the man’s cheek clean off and began chewing on it. Two other firemen came over to help, pulling the child off their friend. The child bit into their coats but could not penetrate the tough material.

  ***

  Shintaro and Emiko continued on. They were only a few blocks from the consulate. He had to make it. Hopefully, the consulate would have security and a means of air travel to get out of this crazed city. No one seemed to be going anywhere on the roads. He passed by a cafe and saw horror. Inside, three infected people were clawing at a restroom door. Shintaro thought he heard screaming from inside. Screams of a child. He stopped.

  “Emiko,” he said, as he handed her his phone with the directions to the consulate still on the screen. He rolled up his sleeves, switching his sword from hand to hand so he could do each arm. “Do not come in. If I fall, run. Do not look back. Just run. “

  Shintaro entered the cafe. Soft jazz played over the speakers in the ceiling. He gripped the hilt of his we
apon. He thumbed the blade out half an inch for an easier draw. He silently walked up and beheaded the man on the left. The woman in the center turned just in time for Shintaro to shove the blade through the roof of her mouth and out of the top of her skull. The third turned and charged Shintaro. He had no time or room to make a killing swing. He dropped his blade and scabbard and used the man’s momentum to hurl him over a nearby table with an expert aikido throw. He retrieved the blade quickly and made ready to combat his foe. The infected man recovered quickly. A fork had pierced his cheek and flopped on his face. Shattered shards of a broken coffee mug and water glass embedded themselves in the side of his head. The man did not notice as he charged once more. Shintaro took the man’s head clean off.

  Shintaro could no longer hear the screams from behind the door. Swinging the sword to clean any blood off the blade he sheathed his weapon, then opened the door. It had not been locked. These people had simply had to pull the door open. Clearly, they had lost the capacity to think. Inside was a young girl, no older than nine. She was sitting with her knees to her chest. A half-broken teacup was still on her finger. Blood stained her jacket and dress. She had a shallow cut under her left eye. She stared at Shintaro. He could tell she was terrified. Perhaps she thought he was one of them. The little girl stared at him, not moving. “What is your name, little one?” Shintaro asked softly.

  The little girl continued to stare. Shintaro did not want to scare the girl any more than she had been. He had to be gentle and patient—something that was difficult at this point in time.

  “Shintaro san,” Emiko said in Japanese from the doorway.

  Shintaro turned. “One moment, Emiko,” he replied in Japanese. “I only need a moment.”

  He turned back to the girl in the bathroom. “Where are your parents?” Shintaro asked.

  He heard screaming and panic from outside.

  “You can’t stay here, dear,” Shintaro said, with a hint of pleading in his voice. “There is danger.”

  But she did not speak.

  Shintaro sighed. “Please, little girl,” he said, “we have to be going.”

  Her only answer was her vacant stare. Shintaro looked at her for signs that she had been bitten. He saw nothing that would suggest the three attackers had wounded her in any way. Perhaps one or two of them had been her parents. He had to understand what had happened to her and try to handle the situation without using force to take her with them. He tried once more to get the girl to her feet.

  “Come, Teacup,” he said to her, extending his hand and smiled warmly, “you can come with us. We will keep you safe.”

  Slowly the girl got to her feet and walked to the door. She took Shintaro’s hand tightly. She inhaled sharply and began to cry. “Aunt Cindy!” she screamed, as Shintaro looked in the direction the girl was facing.

  She had spotted the infected woman’s body. Shintaro felt a sliver of shame. He had killed someone’s family. Although the woman who was this girl’s aunt had tried to kill her, the girl still felt remorse upon seeing the body of the woman she had loved. “I’m sorry,” Shintaro said genuinely, as if they were at a funeral.

  “She started acting funny,” the little girl said, between sobs. “After the man bit her. She thought he was trying to rob her. But he just bit her. Two policemen came and helped. They took the man away.”

  Shintaro found himself bending down to hug the girl. He thought of his own daughter and what he would want a stranger to do in a situation such as this. The girl hugged him back. He heard a faint “tink” sound behind him and realized the girl had just dropped the cup that was hanging from her finger. The two parted, and Shintaro looked her in the eyes. “Let’s go, Teacup,” he said motioning towards the front door with a nod of his head. “Let’s get you to safety.”

  They left the cafe behind. Shintaro and the girl stepped out into a world of chaos. Sirens sounded from every street corner. People ran, some cursing as they could not get a signal on their phones. Shintaro looked at Emiko. She was looking around like a frightened bird, her head darting in every direction as she tried to take in all the activity.

  “Emiko,” he said to her sternly, to get her attention. When she turned to look at him, he continued in Japanese. “Take this girl’s other hand. Hold her in between us. She is to be our charge until we can get her to safety.” Emiko nodded in understanding.

  “What is your name, Teacup?” Shintaro said, looking down at the girl.

  “I’m Sarah Lowe. I’m from Elmira New York. I live with my mom and dad and my brother,” she said in the rehearsed style of every lost child.

  “Hello, Sarah,” Shintaro said, aware that he was spending precious time to make this child feel comfortable. “That is Emiko. I am Shintaro Wakayama.”

  Sarah looked confused and tilted her head slightly to the right and said, “Can I just call you Mr. Wak?”

  “That you may, Teacup,” he replied. “Come. We have to hurry.”

  The trio continued in the direction of the Japanese consulate. Car accidents and people convulsing on the sidewalk surrounded their every step. Time was short. This city was only going to sink further into an abyss of disorder. He pulled his phone from his pocket. Only two blocks until they reached their destination. He knew Sarah would be an issue. She was obviously not Japanese. He only hoped they had some way of helping her get back to her family. They rounded the final corner onto Park Avenue. Shintaro could see things were as bad as he thought they were.

  In front of the glass doors to the consulate stood a wall of eight armed men. Japanese agents. Each one carried a rifle and wore tactical vests over their pressed black suits. Shintaro only hoped those men standing there did not mean what feared. He had to get back to his family. He had to help Sarah and Emiko escape the madness of the city. He would not be denied. He held the lives of two people in his hands.

  He walked swiftly up the stairs, and the two men in the middle held the hands out in a gesture to stop.

  Before either could speak, Shintaro boldly cut them off. “I am Shintaro Wakayama, and I demand to enter the consulate of my country. I have two ladies who need help and a way out of this city. Let us in.”

  “Wakayama san,” the guard to his left spoke, bowing slightly, “we know who you are.”

  “We can let you in,” the right guard said, “but we cannot promise there will be help for any of you. The consulate has been ordered shut down and evacuated. We are here merely here to deter any trouble before the last helicopter leaves.”

  “From the roof?” Shintaro said, nodding up.

  “Yes,” the right guard said. “The ambassador and his staff are gone already. We will be the last to take off.”

  “Is there no one you can call that we can speak with?” Emiko said, almost panicked.

  “The phone network has stopped operating properly,” the guard said pulling his cell phone from a pocket on his vest. “I will attempt to reach someone and see what we can do.”

  Shintaro allowed the man a moment. He scanned his surroundings. People ran to and fro. The city had become a hive of frantic activity. “Wakayama san,” the guard said, and Shintaro turned his head quickly to acknowledge the man. “The network is down. Most likely too many people on their phones. I cannot get a connection.”

  Shintaro nodded. “How many can fit on one of your helicopters?” he asked.

  “Ten comfortably,” the guard began, knowing where Shintaro was going with his question, “but I cannot get authorization to let you on.”

  “Damn your authorization!” Shintaro roared. The guard took a noticeable step backward, and a few others tightened the grip on their rifles. “There are two people in need of help.”

  Emiko turned to him at this last line. “But Shintaro san,” she said, “there are three of us.”

  “If I can get you and Sarah out of here, it will be a victory,” he said, looking down at the girl. “I can find my own way if necessary. You have a lucky man to find. This little one has a life she has not yet begun
to live.”

  Emiko started to cry. Sarah looked between them, confused. They were talking funny, and she wished she could understand what they were saying. Why was the other lady crying? What had Mr. Wak said to upset her? Sarah felt tears in her eyes. What was happening? Were they not getting into the building? Were these men going to shoot them? Was that why Emiko was crying?

  “Don’t you hurt us!” Sarah screamed at the guards.

  The men looked confused. It was obvious none of them spoke English. Shintaro smiled. Emiko put her hand to her mouth in shock. “What is your name?” Shintaro asked the guard.

  “Itto,” the guard answered.

  “Itto, do you have children?” Shintaro continued.

  “Two girls,” Itto said. A hint of a smile played across his face as he mentioned his children.

  “If these were your daughters,” Shintaro said, “and you were in my place, what would you want the man in your place to say?”

  The man stared for a moment. Shintaro had caught him off guard. It would catch anyone off guard. To reverse roles and force someone to make a decision on the opposite side was not an easy scenario. Shintaro had used it many times when he could see a negotiation was not going to be won. It was his calling card as a negotiator. He had used it on many union officials on his visits to the plants his company had in America.

  Itto exhaled and stepped backward. He pulled open the door to the consulate building. “We will take all of you,” he said. “I will deal with my superiors and face whatever consequences.”

  Shintaro hurried the girls inside. “Thank you, Itto san,” he said, bowing quickly before entering the building.

  The lobby was beautiful. There were multiple businesses and firms besides the consulate in the building. Emiko sat down with Sarah on a small couch by the main desk. Shintaro paced. They had made it. Now it was only a matter of time before the helicopter came to take them out of this city. He would get Sarah back to her family and Emiko home. He would return to Japan a changed man. He had killed. No matter if they were infected, he had killed people. He would live that the rest of his days. His children would never know their father had used his sword to take a life.