by Schafer, Jon
Jax smiled and said, "Going to a zombie party man. You wanna come?''
Preoccupied, Steve declined the invitation and left. As he got into his Jeep though, it suddenly occurred to him what Jax had said. He had invited him to a 'zombie' party. Thinking about what Heather had told him about the dead coming back to life and eating the living, he suddenly worried for her safety. Being a cop, she would be right in the middle of things.
Pulling out his cell phone, he felt a twinge of guilt for calling Ginny while his thoughts were on Heather.
When Ginny answered, Steve told her he wanted to come by and pick her up, but she insisted on meeting him at his place on Indian Rocks Beach. She wanted to stop by a friend's house and pick up a DVD that she wanted to watch that night. He gave in easily as this dovetailed with his own plans. Since he had been looking for a reason to stay at home tonight without scaring the hell out of Ginny with stories about the dead coming to life and eating human flesh, this worked out to the good. From the sound of things, there would be plenty of time to be scared shitless in the next couple days. They finally decided to get together in an hour, which gave him enough time to stop by the grocery store on the way home.
The fog had lifted as Steve pulled out of the bowling alley’s parking lot but he noticed there were no other vehicles on the streets. He thought to himself that if traffic had been sparse before, it was now non-existent. In the fifteen minutes it took him to drive to the grocery store, he only saw one other car.
When he pulled into the parking lot, he was initially surprised to see that the Publix supermarket was dark and completely deserted. Confused, he checked his watch and saw that it was barely nine o'clock. The store was supposed to be open until eleven. Remembering what Heather had said about the stores closing early so they could stock their shelves, he decided to try anyway. He had money in his bank account and a driving will to get set up for the coming emergency, so if he had to he would bribe, borrow or steal to get what he needed to prepare for the coming shit storm.
Parking in the fire lane, Steve saw the faint glow of light from inside the store. After climbing out of the Jeep, he walked to the door and tried to open it. Finding it locked, he leaned close to the glass so that he could see inside better. Steve spotted an employee pushing a cart loaded with bottled water past the cash registers, and pounded on the glass to get his attention. The stock boy, who to Steve appeared barely old enough to get into a PG-13 rated movie unaccompanied, waved him away and shouted, "We're closed. Come back tomorrow."
Steve pointed to the sign on the door and yelled back, "It says you're open until midnight."
The kid shrugged and turned to start stacking cases of water onto a shelf.
Reaching for his wallet, Steve found he only had two twenties and a ten. An ATM was set into the wall next to the door, so he used his debit card to withdraw the maximum from his account, five hundred dollars. Returning to the door he knocked again, and when stock boy looked up at him in irritation, Steve slapped a fifty against the glass. This got enough of the kid’s attention to draw him over to the door.
"Whadda you want?" He asked.
"I need to buy a few things."
The kid eyed the fifty pressed against the glass and said with reluctance, "You have to come back tomorrow, we're stocking up tonight. There's gonna be a big run on food, water and batteries tomorrow so we have to get the store ready."
Stock boy was about to turn and walk off so Steve slapped another fifty against the glass with his other hand.
The kid’s eyes got wide and he said, "I don’t have a key for the front. Go around back to the loading dock."
Steve walked to his Jeep wondering if he might be over reacting, but then remembered the intense look on Heather's face while she filled him in on what was really going on in the world and decided he wasn't. And while he didn't know Heather as well as he would have liked, he knew her well enough to trust her. Pulling into the narrow delivery lane behind the store, he saw stock boy standing on a loading platform smoking a cigarette and pulled in next to him.
Getting out of his Jeep, Steve said, "Thanks a lot. I appreciate this."
The kid didn't reply, just held his hand out for the money. After Steve paid him, the junior extortionist finally spoke. "The night manager is gone. He got a bunch of water and food and shit, loaded up his truck and said he'd be back in a while. That was two hours ago and no one's seen him since. I told the other guys working tonight that you're my uncle and that's why I'm hooking you up." He flicked his cigarette butt into the darkness before saying, "C'mon, you have to hurry. None of the cash registers are working, but you've already paid." He laughed at this before leading Steve through the door into the storage area at the back of the building.
Pointing toward a long, flat cart he said, "Use that. Grab what you need but don't go too crazy."
Steve started loading cases of gallon jugs of water as stock boy told him his personal tale of woe. "I had a date tonight with this primo babe. All of the sudden she calls up and breaks it off. Says her parents are worried about this disease thing on the news and won't let her go anywhere. Shit, who cares what's happening in Kansas? It's business as usual in sunny Florida. Can you believe that shit?"
Steve pushed the cart through the stacked boxes at the back of the store with stock boy following close behind. At first he thought the kid was following him to keep an eye on him, but it soon became apparent that he just wanted to talk. Finding the canned goods, he rapidly loaded up on beef stew and chili as his new best friend droned on.
"So I figure, screw it. I'll go hang with my bros. You know, hit the mall or something. Or head down to the beach. I'm getting ready to skate when my dad yells for me and says work's on the phone, and they want to talk to me. I get on the line and it's my boss. That asshole tells me he needs me to come in right away to help stock up for the big run they're expecting Manana. Can you believe that shit?"
Stock boy stopped his narrative to ask, "Is there a hurricane or something heading our way? I didn't hear anything about it."
Steve was tempted to tell the kid everything that he knew but held back. "I think it's because of the munchin' madness thing. It's got a lot of people scared."
"Like you," the kid pointed out and laughed.
Steve smiled grimly. "Yeah, like me," he agreed as he dropped a case of instant coffee onto the cart.
"So anyway," The kid continued. "I tell my boss it's my night off, you know. So then the punk ass bitch says that if I don't come in I can kiss my job goodbye. I need to make my car payments and insurance, man. As much as it sucks, I need this job. Can you believe that shit?"
Steve couldn't believe that the kid was old enough to drive, but he nodded his head in commiseration anyway.
"So I show up and the whole store is locked up tight. I'm just getting ready to bolt when the night manager shows up and lets me in. He makes me and another guy load up his truck and then he hauls ass. Can you believe that shit?"
With his mind only on what he still needed, Steve ignored this and asked, "Where are the batteries?"
Stock boy led him to a stack of boxes in the storeroom and told him to take his pick. Ignoring the red, five foot high no smoking sign painted on the wall, the kid lit up a cigarette before continuing, "So then you show up. I was gonna blow you off like the rest of the people who came by but you flashed the cash. All those other lame asses just bitched about the store closing early. Can you believe that shit?"
Steve stopped and took a quick inventory of what he had on the pushcart. Coming up blank on anything else he needed, he wheeled to the back door with stock boy on his heels, still talking. "So before the night manager split, he said to set up the store like we would for a hurricane sale. Said we were gonna be slammed tomorrow. Said we'd all have to work again even if it was our day off. I mean, I've got a life outside this place. Can you believe that shit?"
Steve stopped at the edge of the loading dock and compared the size of the pile on the cart against the ava
ilable room in the Jeep. For the first time since buying the vehicle, he wished he’d gotten a truck.
Jumping down to the ground, he dropped the canvas top while the kid talked. "That's a decent ride. I got me a Toyota. Guy who sold it to me said it would have great resale value. Now they come out and say that the accelerator sticks and kills your ass, so I probably couldn't give it away. Can you believe that shit?"
Finished putting the top down, Steve turned and said, "Start handing that stuff to me, would you?"
Stock boy stood stock-still.
Steve was about to repeat his request when he realized what was going on. With a false smile plastered on his face, he extracted another fifty from his wallet and placed it in the kid's outstretched palm, consoling himself that he had only paid one hundred fifty dollars for about six hundred dollars worth of food and supplies.
In a short time the Jeep was loaded. Steve squeezed himself in behind the steering wheel and keyed the ignition as stock boy looked on. Seeing the vehicle piled with enough food and water to weather a siege, the seriousness of the situation seemed to sink in with the kid. With a worried look on his face now that he was being left alone, stock boy asked, "So do you think I should grab some stuff and haul ass? I mean, maybe this thing is way worse than what they're saying on TV."
Fed up with the kid’s constant prattle, Steve put the Jeep into gear and replied, "It is worse than what they're saying on television. If I were you, I'd grab everything I could get my hands on and head for the hills. And you can definitely believe that shit."
Driving out from behind the store, Steve felt a chill in the night air blowing against his skin. He had planned to put the top back up on the Jeep after loading it but wanted to get away from stock boy and on his way home.
As he pulled up to the stop sign at the exit from the parking lot, the boxes stacked on the passenger seat started to shift forward. Bringing the Jeep to a complete stop with its nose a foot out into the deserted street, he leaned over to adjust the load, taking his eyes off the road.
Struggling to push the boxes of canned chili against the backrest of the seat, a resounding bang from something hitting the hood of the Jeep made him suddenly jerk upright and look around wildly. Expecting to see that another vehicle had run into him because he had stopped with the nose of the Jeep out in the street, he was unprepared for the sight which greeted him.
Standing at the front of the Jeep, with his palms laying flat on the hood where he had slammed them down, was a dirty looking, wild eyed old man who stared venom at him.
Steve felt adrenalin surge through his body before pooling in his stomach to make him feel sick and a little bit weak. This is one of them, his mind screamed, as he sorted through the weapons at hand that he could use to defend himself. Realizing he had left the top down on the Jeep, he suddenly felt totally exposed.
The bowling ball entered his thoughts. It was too heavy to throw, but could be used to smash his assailant’s head. As quickly as this idea entered his mind it was dismissed. The ball was in the passenger’s foot well with boxes stacked on top of it.
He could snap off the antenna and use it as a flail, but then Steve remembered what Heather told him about having to destroy the brain, so this idea was also dismissed. The antenna would be too flimsy.
Without conscious thought, Steve’s hand went to the gearshift as his foot moved to depress the clutch. A surge of anger brought on by fear shot through him as he decided on a course of action. He would just run the son-of-a-bitch over.
The man in front of the Jeep made a noise, which caused Steve to pause for a second to process the sound as human speech.
"You're in the goddamn sidewalk asshole, people gotta walk here you know!" The old man croaked out angrily before circling the front of the Jeep and moving on.
It was a full twenty seconds before Steve remembered to breathe and another five minutes before he felt well enough to drive home.
He was still replaying the incident in his mind when he arrived at his apartment. The one thought that kept repeating itself was; Thank God I didn't have a gun, or I would have blown that old fuck's head off.
Not seeing Ginny's car in the lot as he pulled in, he quickly went inside to grab a canvas tarp to cover the contents of the Jeep before putting the top back up. He didn't want anyone to see what he had and steal it, and he also didn't want to have to explain to Ginny why it looked like he was preparing for nuclear war.
When he was done, he checked his watch and saw that he still had five minutes before Ginny said she would be at his place. From previous experience, he knew this meant he actually had at least a half hour before she showed up. Probably more like forty-five minutes, he amended. Plenty of time to take care of what he had to do next.
Entering the second bedroom he used as an office, Steve went to the small safe he kept under his desk and dialed in the combination. He pulled out two boxes of .45 caliber ammunition and checked their contents. One full and one half full. Deciding it would do for now, he next removed two empty pistol magazines and started feeding bullets into the first one. When they were both loaded, he slapped them on his palm to make sure the cartridges were seated correctly and wouldn't jam when they fed into the pistol.
Steve then moved to the bedroom where he opened the drawer in the night stand next to his bed and reached all the way in back. His hand quickly found the familiar grip of the Glock he kept there for emergencies.
After ejecting the magazine and clearing the pistol, he tested the spare clips to make sure they slid in and out without hanging up. Satisfied, he took one bullet from his extra loose ammunition and laid it aside. After loading the pistol, he chambered a round, extracted the clip and topped it off. Then he put the loaded spare clips, extra shells and a cleaning kit in the book bag he used as a briefcase. It went wherever he went so it would be a good place for the pistol too, but not just yet.
He walked back into the living room and placed the pistol under the cushion on his side of the couch. Feeling prepared for most anything that might come along, he turned on the television and switched to the news.
Steve noticed right off that the media was still down playing the crisis. While the HWNW virus was the lead story, it only received a few minutes of airtime on each news cycle, with the talking heads skimming over any of the details. Like people eating each other.
He was about to switch channels to hear what the other twenty-four hour news services had to say when he heard the sound of a key in the lock. Ginny had arrived. Steve switched to 'DVD' with the remote, causing the screen to go blue and cutting off an ad for investing in gold, and then took a moment to compose himself. He didn't see anything to be gained by scaring Ginny with tales of the dead coming back to life to chow down on people. Right now, things were still fairly normal in Clearwater and St. Petersburg. And if the feds got a handle on the problem, there wouldn't be anything to worry about. Resolving that he would sit down and talk to Ginny if things continued to go to hell, he stood up to greet his girlfriend.
Tonight he would carry on as if everything was normal and see what tomorrow brought.
CHAPTER FIVE
Washington. D.C.:
An aide to the chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff handed a folder to each of the men seated around the table as his commanding officer spoke.
"The operation I'm about to brief you on was approved by the President at 1800 hours this evening. It's called Operation Re-detente. As you know, the practice of detente, in relation to nuclear arms, means we don't have it and you don't have it. This was brought about by the Nixon administration to relax tensions during the Cold War. In its new context, Re-detente means that since the United States now has dead people running around eating the living, every nation in the world should have them too. We've got them, and now you've got them. It helps to keep the playing field level."
A few men chuckled briefly at this explanation.
"Our lab located in-, " the Chairman turned to his aide for help on this.
"Right, Russellville, Arkansas, after we temporarily lost the CDC lab in Atlanta to contamination," and lost a good chunk of the city of Atlanta, the Chairman added in his mind, "and before they could reestablish their labs, the military took over research into the HWNW virus. Since the initial outbreak was in Little Rock, it makes sense that we position our resources nearby while trying to find a cure. Meanwhile, working off the initial tests done by the CDC, our people have managed to isolate the virus and replicate it. They say they're months away from any type of cure or immunization for the disease, which led to the President's decision to institute operation Re-detente. Right now the disease is isolated in North America, with a few scattered cases in Europe and the Far East, so we decided it was necessary that we spread the disease to other countries that are openly or covertly hostile to the United States. We then ran numerous scenarios through our threat assessment computers and further found that if the virus were to go unchecked, it would weaken America to the point where any country with even a half-assed army could overrun us. Thus, we came to the decision to release the HWNW virus worldwide." The Chairman pressed a button on the counsel in front of him, causing the overhead lights to dim and a map of the world to be projected on a screen behind him.
"The red lights you see represent the target cities where, by 0600 tomorrow morning our time, the virus will have been injected into thousands of hospital patients and other select individuals. The boys at the NSA put together a computer model on exactly who to infect so that an optimal spread of the disease could be accomplished in the shortest period of time."
He gave them a moment to study the map, which showed specks of red light at every major and medium sized city in the civilized world. Two members of the Joint Chiefs asked questions about the safety of the men under their command. These inquiries were quickly answered to everyone's satisfaction so the Chairman cleared his throat and continued.
"We have quite a few items on the agenda today dealing with our armed forces around the world, but first I want to go over a few domestic issues. It seems that we need to clarify the situation in the United States before moving on..."