Boy, were Michael and Becky glad to see me. I was only gone ten minutes because a man has to do what a man has to do. You know how it is. I had gotten back just in time because Michael had to leave. That is really why they were so glad to see me. He had been called into work and was scared shitless about going, especially after listening to the reports over the last hour. He hugged me before he left and asked me to protect his family. What a stupid request. He knows I will with my life. He would not hesitate to do the same with mine. We watched him leave from the front door. Becky was in tears, so I put my arm around her. She hugged me tightly, more worried than I.
Becky and I were now camped out at the dining room table. I had retrieved my portable shortwave receiver from the bedroom when Michael packed up his police radio and we were tuning into various stations across the continent. Reception helped after I fit the external loop antenna to it and ran it out the nearby window tossing it as high as I could in the closest tree. We then had great reception and in no time were catching news reports from all over the world.
Michael was right. It was an outbreak and much worse than anyone could have imagined. Some might call it attack of the zombies. Some might call it judgment day, as some were. Some might say you were still asleep and it was time to wake up. The short of it was the flu killed some people, maybe ten percent, and mostly older people. The vaccinations on the other hand killed most people over the age of twelve or so. I breathed a sigh of relief thinking of Emma. Her fever was down to a little over a hundred degrees and steadily decreasing, she would be fine I felt. However, those that died from the vaccinations did not stay dead. Or rather, they did not really die. They went into a high fever coma of a hundred-ten to a hundred-fifteen degrees for a few hours. Then they died, or some semblance of it. Shortly after that appearance of death, their bodies cooled to room temperature very quickly. Too quickly, and they appeared clinically dead. Then they woke. Then went into a murderous rage and tried to eat the people around them, or anything alive from what we heard. Dogs, cats, pet fish. No source of live meat was sacred to the newly risen.
The airwaves were wild with speculation, but the few seeming reliable sources claimed it was some kind of crazy animal rage thing. The intense fever killed off all higher brain functions and what was left operated off lower function animal instincts. They were mad enraged beasts! When they ate, they would eat only flesh and then only living flesh. Like a wild carnivore. They would even eat each other but mostly those not infected yet. They could eat normal food but would not if they did not think it was alive. Weird. What was disturbing also was that they had changed. No longer being warm-blooded humans, but instead some kind of cold-blooded beasts. Not a lot was known, just that it was happening all over the world at once. It was not surprising after all, as America had been the producer and distributor of the vaccine worldwide. Well, actually the pharmaceutical companies in the United States along with a few major ones in Europe.
There was little from the government on the emergency channels just what FEMA was saying. The usual about staying inside with doors locked. That order would be restored shortly. Yeah right. We listened and drank coffee. I kept going into the living room to kiss all my kids until they complained. I still did it. I could not stop myself. I really needed a beer by this time.
The power went out about midnight. No clue why. I lit lamps. I had plenty of odorless kerosene also along with lamp oil. I had gas and a generator, but I did not feel like firing that up just yet because the kids had fallen asleep by now. Cell towers were still up because we had good signal, but no one I tried calling answered, just a steady beeping resulted. Probably an overloaded line with too many callers was my thought. The portable shortwave receiver ran on batteries so it kept going. We tuned in the local police dispatch. Things were hairy out there with people dying. Some officers were down because a damn car went out of control and hit one of theirs. The injured officers had been taken to the hospital in Fremont, which still appeared to be operating. We prayed one of them was not Michael. Other shouts occasionally came over the radio but we never heard Michaels voice. We worried. I hugged Becky and we sat holding hands. Total friendship is all. She's just not my type as she weighs a bit more than my one-hundred-seventy and is more than a foot shorter than I am. Get the picture? Well maybe if she was the last woman on earth and we had to start the repopulation process. I started thinking about that then gave up. Two hours later the power came back on. No clue. I fell asleep around 4am on the floor next to the kids. I was tired and I would probably need my strength in the morning.
*****
Jack was terrified. He leaned against the locked front door to his house fumbling with the breech lever on his double barrel shotgun. He only had a few shells left. Not that the shells did much good as his last shot had torn half the chest off a man, spinning him to the ground. Then Jack had watched in horror as that same man got back up stumbling towards him again.
"Leave us alone!" he screamed. He was crying. Crying in frustration for their situation and for the ineffectual way he was protecting his family. Erika and their daughters were upstairs in the master bedroom closet. They had no basement as the house had been built on a concrete slab. Behind the door, a few breathy snarls and moans answered his desperate pleas for peace.
The door thumped against his back again and he heard the frame crack. The shells he was holding tumbled from his shaking fingers rolling on the floor in opposite directions. He scrabbled after them grasping both in a swoop and fumbled them into the double chamber. Without his weight against it, the door crashed inward, looming forms only visible in the moonlight. He cocked the old shotgun his dad had left him in his will and fired once, then again, as they shambled into his house towards him. One bastard went down, the others didn’t and they closed on him. He didn’t have time to reload.
His screams were long and painful. Before he died, he heard Erica and his daughters' scream in response to his. His last vision was of the creatures who weren’t feeding on him, pause looking up, then heading for the stairs climbing them slowly. God was merciful to him that night for he stopped breathing before his family started screaming again.
*****
Monica threw the flimsy deadbolt, locking the door as best she could. Old Alex, her neighbor, in the trailer next to her had just left. He had left her a pistol. She had no idea how to use it. Alex said to point and shoot. It had six bullets in it and he left her half a box with more. Her two boys huddled behind their momma not knowing what to do. They were scared and crying too because momma was scared and crying. People were dying in the trailer park Old Alex had said. He had a big gun hanging over his shoulder and another pistol not like the one he loaned her but much bigger, in his belt.
Brookside was such a nice place. Why were people killing each other? She and her boys were lucky when a Section Eight home opened up. They filled fast at Brookside with its pool and tennis courts and landscaped lawns. Most of the people were friendly even though she was on welfare. In some places they were not friendly. Her boys would do better than she would and she had always meant for that. They would for sure if she wasn't killed. Alex told her to run, but run to where? She had no place to go.
Her trailer shook as if a strong wind hit it. She had peaked out of the windows seconds before and seen so many people in the streets. All quiet and walking unnaturally. As if they were hurt or something. She just didn't know. She didn't know anything. Alex told her if she saw funny walking people to stay away from them. She huddled against the back wall facing the front door with her boys in her wide lap, her arms wrapped around them. The pistol she held in hands, shaking like a windblown leaf.
The trailer shook again harder this time. She glanced at the single living room light she had left on for comfort. She was afraid of the dark but maybe she should turn it off? The trailer shook again and the door flew inward. Oh no, these were not people. These things were covered in blood and some had pieces of their body missing. They did not talk, they growled but
in a weird way. She couldn't stop herself from firing. She fired all the bullets in the gun until it stopped. The hammer kept falling clicking and clicking. She was out of bullets, but she had a box. Noooooo! It was on the table in the kitchen. She did not think she hit any of them for she saw holes in her walls from the bullets she fired. The creatures advanced reaching for her. She was in shock. Then she noticed the smell. She also noticed the leading creature was holding a half eaten human hand. She screamed emptying her lungs and her boys screamed with her. She sobbed clutching them tighter. My babies, was all her mind could muster in its shock.
CRACK, CRACK, CRACK. Gunshots rang through her tiny mobile home and her ears went numb. Three of the creatures reaching for her fell right at her feet. She heard more shots or felt them, as it was hard to tell for they were so loud. She gasped as more fell. Then even more and out of the corner of her eye, she saw Old Alex advancing towards them from the back hallway, his big gun held to his shoulder firing steadily again and again and again. He reached them.
"Git up woman. No time. No time. Git up stay with me. Shut up and quit crying. They can hear us. Boys. Quiet!" he snapped at them tugging at her fleshy arm with his free hand, the other holding the big long gun ready. There were more of them just outside the door trying to get past the bodies of the fallen. Alex released her arm his hand rising up in swift sure movements steadying his big gun. Three more explosions rang out in her tiny trailer and she saw the ones in the doorway collapse blocking it for the moment. There were even more behind them reaching for them while trying to crawl over the bodies of the others and towards her babies.
Alex startled her by dragging her to her feet. She would not release her boys and she knew she was heavy. They were her everything. He pulled them through the kitchen, snagging the box of bullets off the cheap steel and linoleum table as he went. He'd already taken the empty pistol from her shaking hands. The backdoor was closed but he opened it, pausing to look carefully out. They were in the darkness of the back hallway to the bedrooms, with the closet doors that hid her tiny washer and dryer behind her.
"Don't make a sound. Keep the boys quiet. If they hear us, we're all dead," Alex said. She whispered instructions to the boys. They were too scared to talk. So was she.
He tugged on her arm again whispering for her to stay close and keep her boys closer and led them out. He paused as his tall thin form crouched just outside the back door, her larger shorter form pressed up against him with her boys between them. She was glad for his protection. They would be dead without it she was sure. He reached back gripping her wrist with a strong bony hand tugging on her again. They crept to the corner of her trailer. He crouched lower still and slowly looked around the corner. A minute passed, and one of her boys started shivering. No one had thought to grab coats. Her worry intensified. She felt a strong tug again and followed Alex at a fast shuffle to the next trailer, then the next. Then they crossed the street into the woods.
She was blind and couldn't see anything. Alex never spoke, but he never left them and kept pulling her along. They reached Quarterline Road and quickly ran across the street to one of the buildings there. An old commercial building of some kind and she could barely make out the dirty white concrete blocks. She heard keys being fumbled, then the a lock turning. The door opened and she and her boys were pulled inside. The door closed and she heard it lock.
"Okay, I think we're safe now. Hold on a minute." He left her in the darkness and her fear started returning. A faint hiss filled the air and she jumped emitting a tiny squeak. Then a bright spark and a flame appeared. Small but steady. It moved, then settled pointing slightly upward, but it was enough to illuminate the room. They were in a repair garage of some kind, or maybe storage shed with lots of tools. She barely knew the names of some of them. She saw Alex beckoning to her and went over leading her boys. She wondered when she had started thinking of him as Alex and not Old Alex.
"Let's get them bedded down. Them youngsters are all done in. I have some blankets here," more half-seen movements and she saw him laying two blankets down for a small bed the boys could lay on. They collapsed exhausted and Alex covered them with another thick blanket that smelled very faintly of oil. He made a second bed near the boys and placed a third blanket on top of it. She saw him use the last two blankets for a bed over by the far wall.
"Get some sleep. Tomorrow’s liable to be a bit strenuous." He lay down and covered up, turning his back to her.
She laid down with her boys and held them tightly until they fell asleep. Then she quietly got up and went over to Alex lying down next to him. She pulled his cover aside and moved closer feeling his warmth. Her arms went around him.
"Woman, I'm old enough to be your granddaddy," he whispered out of the dark.
"I haven't thanked you for saving my babies Alex." Her hand slid down his body and found what she was searching for. "And you're not too old at all." she said.
*****
Ben slugged another one of the nightmare creatures in the head with the baseball bat he was holding. Its head dented in on the side and it fell but kept crawling towards him. Damn it.
"Die Mother Fucker!" He raved as he hit it again, then again until it stopped moving. Another was behind it and another behind that one. Behind him Bethany, Amber and Luke, his wife and children crouched, the four of them backing slowly up the hallway leading to the kitchen as he fended them off.
His life had been going perfectly. As a California transplant, he and his family had moved to the Grand Rapids area for work. He'd been laid off in Silicon Valley along with tens of thousands of others. There simply were not any software design jobs available there anymore for anyone with less than a dozen years or more of experience. Beautiful, tanned and blonde his California trophy wife and their two equally blonde children were making a new life. They had made many new friends and within the first year had moved out of the ugly city sprawl that made up almost everything within the city limits and purchased a new home north of the city but within an easy forty-five minute commute. Forty-five minutes was nothing as previously he had driven an hour and twenty minutes each way to his old job. The pay was less but housing was a lot less. It more than evened out.
Perfectly that is, until today.
"Remember baby, we have to get to Sam's house. If anyone can help us he can." He took another wild swing at the next nightmare facing them and then jerked the bat quickly back as the creature tried to catch it. He aimed lower striking it in one of its knees hearing the bone crunch. It fell over and started a fast crawl towards them. Savagely, he hit it with an overhand swing to the head and felt a satisfying crunch as it stopped moving.
He wished he had a gun instead of the bat. He did not believe in guns though. Guns were dangerous, if he had one they were more likely to get their house broken into and then hurt by those same guns. He was a firm believer in only law enforcement owning guns and had previously supported every anti-gun legislation on California's ballots. Everyone knew if people were allowed to have guns, they would shoot each other in the streets like the old Wild West over every little thing. Even road rage would take on a whole new level of meaning. Look at the gangs of criminals and felons that were constantly shooting each other left and right. Point made. Here in Newaygo, his neighbor Sam owned many guns and was constantly trying to get him to go shooting and even hunting. Like hunt a wild animal? There should be laws against that. He hated people that hunted when supermarkets contained perfectly healthy and nutritious food and had rebuffed Sam's attempts. Now he was more than having second thoughts.
He had not believed the crazy reports on TV and thought it was some kind of elaborate scare tactic by uninformed government workers and news crews. When the nightmare creatures had first made their appearance and he saw that nice old neighbor lady across the street dragged down. Then seen these things eat her! It was too much. It was all too much. He wanted to go help her but Bethany wouldn't let him. Not that he could have anyways. They were swarming everywhere and no poli
ce were in site. Where were the fucking police? Did he not pay taxes so the police would protect him and his family? But the creatures saw them before he could get inside. These nightmares were not exactly fast but they were quick. They had busted through his front door in no time. Just their repeated slamming against it made it give way quicker then he thought possible. It was a very nice steel door but the frame around it was made of wood, he belatedly realized. Now Sam was their only hope. Sam at least would have guns.
He had whispered his plan to Bethany just before the door caved in. He and Bethany spoke in whispers as loud noises made the nightmares slam against the door harder. The creatures could hear their prey and wanted them. They would get to Sam's and Sam would help them. He had the means of protecting them until the police arrived. Ben had called 911 but there was only a busy signal. If it meant being nicer to Sam and his wife Dorothy and maybe a couple of barbeques here and there when this was all over, so be it.
They backed into the kitchen and his Bea screamed. Turning he saw two just outside the kitchen door leading out onto the back patio. However, it was only two. There must have been a dozen in the hall. Ben felt the bat ripped from his hands as he let himself be distracted by Bethany's scream. He started kicking the creatures in front of him, then made up his mind. It was suddenly all clear to him. With a feat of almost superhuman strength, he grabbed the small kitchen table and wedged it into the hallway, twisting and jamming it in with everything he had. That bought them maybe a few minutes.
Blood, Brains and Bullets Page 5