by Mariah Lynde
Popping a cigarette between my lips, the only thing anyone heard at that point was the soft click of my lighter. As one would expect from taking a pull off their first cigarette in a year, that initial intake of smoke caused me to cough slightly, but nothing could dampen the sweet infusion of nicotine that I got from the experience.
“I wasn’t…I mean you all made it sound…”
“We made it sound like what?” Robbie shot back, his voice deceptively even and cold. I knew better than anyone that if he sounded that stern and unwavering he was anything but cold. Anyone on that call could tell you, hearing that happened to be the equivalent of hearing a rattlesnake’s tail beginning to hypnotically shake. It came right before the kill shot.
“That Miss Warren was…”
“Sick of your shit?” Robbie cut him off again, and I sat back in my chair to take another long drag of my cigarette while he continued. “You’d do well to remember just who’s house you’re in. Secondly, if you hadn’t chimed in with your little observation about her crazy, let alone ours, we’d know why she reasoned out that she needed to go take out that zombie. While I’m not sure what you do for a living, sir…I can assure you I trust the woman sitting near you with my life. Far more than I would anyone else. Any form of instability you may see, probably has a reason - and I will tell you right now - if you say one more thing to degrade or insult my friend, you won’t have to wait for a damn zombie. I’ll drive up there to handle you myself just to save Angel the grief of dealing with you. Are we understood?”
That moment seemed to set the stage for the rest of the night. All joking had been sufficiently stopped as a stern, almost somber tone had taken hold of the conversation. Behind me, the television droned on softly about some sort of food poisoning outbreak, a story that seemed of little interest in comparison to the almost stoic and threat-laden atmosphere that Robbie’s threat presented.
For several long moments no one spoke. Everyone in the call was waiting to see where things would go next. A few muttered about the perceived insult of Cal’s ‘observation’ while others snorted their disgust over the drama. Yet, for the most part, things quieted down while we waited for Cal’s reaction. Much as I didn’t want to admit it, this rag tag group of internet nerds were our people and at some point Robbie and I had become a central force to that. Now, with things stirring up and our whole world starting to go a little bit nuts with the threat of the unknown, we needed that stability more than ever.
Taking a drag of my cigarette, I peered over at Cal and debated just what I should say next.
Chapter Twenty-Two –Unraveling the Mystery and Zombie Brains
While I sat in my chair debating on just how to pick the conversation back up and get our group back on track, my unintentional house guest was fidgeting nearby. Rolling my eyes and heaving a sigh I looked up at him with a barely disguised look of annoyance.
“What?” I snapped. My left hand was already moving forward to flick the ashes of my cigarette into the ashtray.
“I’m sorry if I spoke out of turn.” He started and I lifted a hand, waving him off.
“Don’t bother. When it comes to me you seem to be making a shit ton of assumptions and mistakes. It’s only temporary, right?” Letting the cigarette hang from the corner of my mouth I turned and leaned forward to stare at the computer screen. “So, we all here now?”
A chorus of affirmatives answered my question as I mentally ticked off the names on the list. Despite their answers I wanted to be sure that I would only have to go through all this once.
“Everything handled there now?” Despite his tone of voice, I knew better than anyone that Robbie was pissed. Not that I blamed him, anyone that dared to speak about any of us like that, pretty much got the same reaction.
“Yeah, yeah. We’re good. Anyway, where was I?” Chiming in as I took another drag from the cigarette, inhaling fully as I let the action soothe my frayed nerves a little.
“You were telling us just how and why it is you ended up outside of your perfectly safe home to bash a zombie’s head in.” Brandon piped up, seemingly losing the subdued air that had befallen the rest of the group.
“Ah.” I began, only to hear the soft grumbling over my shoulder that could only be described as Cal voicing his protest. Arching a brow as I peered over my shoulder to look at him and ask, “Problem?”
“Not a bit, just wondering how you can justify putting yourself in harm’s way.” He mumbled, looking almost as if he were afraid someone or something would be jumping out of my computer screen to attack him. That thought held a little tinge of amusement, but not near as much as the fact I was sitting right here and he had dismissed the danger I posed out of hand. In twenty-four hours he’d seen me go ham on two different occasions, I couldn’t fathom why anyone else, let alone people on the other side of a computer screen would be considered scarier.
“Well, I’m about to explain that…or would you prefer to sit here and pout? I mean honestly, if that’s what you want we can just skip this whole conversation and you can go upstairs to find a blankie and go to bed.” Irritation at its peak now, I leaned back in my chair to watch my ‘guest’ as he frowned at me.
“You don’t have to be mean about it. I was merely stating a personal thought.” Sighing a little, I glared at him until he took the hint and threw up his hands. “Fine, I’ll shut up now.”
“That’d be a first.” I muttered and moved to lean back in the chair, snuffing out the cigarette before I closed my eyes. “So, yeah…zombie bashing. I had a reason for leaving the house to handle it. When I ran the probabilities in my head, I came to the conclusion that handling said zombie was an acceptable risk.”
“How so?” Robbie asked. I could tell he was highly irritated, whether that happened to be about Cal or the fact he hadn’t known the whole story about what had happened with me, I couldn’t be sure.
“Well, I told you how I ended up with my house guest, what I didn’t tell you was just what all the police caravan had to say.” I pushed my hands down on the arms of my chair, lifting myself up a little and peering at the computer screen. “Basically, when they rolled through, they announced the curfew…which you already know about. However, they also said that anyone experiencing certain flu like symptoms should remain in their homes and isolated. They were to call emergency services for help and wait until they had assistance.”
Everyone went deathly silent at that point, in all honestly I think other than Cal and myself, no one found what I’d said quite so telling. Still, I knew they wanted an explanation so I continued on, “Right about then I realized things were a lot worse than they were letting on. While being inside this gated community works in helping to keep the zombies out, if there were to be an outbreak inside, well…that would be hard to control. Nothing like that can end well.”
“Who’s to say there would be an outbreak? I mean, they said people who were feeling a certain way should call emergency services,” Alec pointed out and I could only shake my head. I understood why he was asking, but it did not make the situation any easier to handle.
Releasing a little sigh, I laid my hands over my stomach considering the best way to explain this. While Robbie had been by my side through the whole of the time I had worked as an EMT, no one else really had that inside look as to how things operated in such situations. As clarifying as that moment had been for me and likely would have been for Robbie, the others needed an explanation of just how such a thing warranted the actions I had taken.
“Honestly, it’s probably the worst thing they could have done. Announcing a mandatory curfew and then telling people to call emergency services if they feel nauseous, feverish, or any number of other flu like symptoms causes a panic. Everyone thinks of the word ‘outbreak’. In recent years, the news has flooded people with news of bioterrorism and dangerous new diseases to keep people just informed enough to be frightened and not informed enough to really know the dangers.
“So, calling a curfew and announcing th
e whole 'if you feel this way call emergency services' will have the system overloaded with calls from people. You’ll have your hypochondriacs who aren’t really sick, but think they’re sick flooding the line. With them will be the panicked parents thinking their kids have got whatever horrid disease they’ve been warned about. Those that are actually sick will have to wait for hours and some will fall through the cracks and be left to their own devices.
“Which leads me to my point about being here in a gated area…there is a definite advantage to living behind walls and keeping the stuff that it outside, just there. Outside. However, in a situation like this where there is a threat, but they’re vague about explaining it and share just enough to cause a panic, it can be a detriment.” I finished that part on a soft sigh. Moving to stand, I walked to one of the palettes on the floor and snagged a Dr. Pepper. I knew my explanation was nowhere near done, but I wanted to go ahead and let the others voice their questions.
The way I figured it, if I let them think about it and then ask, they’d feel like they were a part of it. It would help them to see and understand the signs to look for when it came to their own well-being. More than all of that, it let the group come together as a whole. If we wanted to survive we had to learn to depend on one another and the knowledge others had. That meant getting used to asking questions and waiting for answers, but doing so in a somewhat civilized way.
“I don’t understand. I mean, wouldn’t a curfew limit the amount of infected people you could possibly have?” Alec chimed in again. While it wasn’t the worst question he could have asked, I figured this would be another one of those nights where I would have to explain things two and three times over for him.
“Okay, the curfew aside, if your gates are closed what possible danger could that present?” Brandon chimed in.
“So, you took out the one zombie because you thought it would save the whole of the people in your community? I mean, with the curfew wouldn’t they just lock their doors and leave him to wander. The police could handle it later, don’t you think?” Ray asked.
One by one, they all asked their questions. Every single one of them had been a question I had heard at some point or another. No matter how many times you heard it or whoever it was that asked it, friend, stranger, or foe…each time those specific questions were asked they grated on your nerves. It was literally only my love for the aforementioned group that had stopped me from going postal in the middle of their rapid fire bout of queries.
Exhaling a little, I popped open the can of soda. I had forgotten just how bad dry mouth could be when you were smoking. Still, that first sip of carbonated sugar and caffeine exploded across my tongue with a vengeance.
Bliss.Pure unadulterated bliss. A self-indulgent smile rolled across my lips as I savored that brief moment before shaking my head and remembering just what was going on. Much as I savored the flavor of the soda as it burst within my mouth, I had other priorities to focus on that were far more important than my personal vices.
“Okay, so I’m going to try and answer all of you at the same time, so bear with me.” I started, turning my head to see that at some point Cal had scooted the chair from across the room a little closer to my desk. It seemed no matter how irritated he appeared to be, the conversation that we were having was something that he considered far more important.
“First, yes a curfew limits the ability of those that are infected to get into the gate. It also eliminates some random zombie wandering in to infect others. Like I said, that part we can consider a bonus. Sadly, in this situation there are just as many deficits as there are positives. Like, with the curfew if one of the infected IS in here and not removed, they can potentially infect a good portion if not all of the people behind these gates.
“What a lot of people don’t realize, is that in a situation where they’ve invoked a mandatory curfew, you’re on your own. Yes, it makes things easier for them to manage with people off the streets during those hours. There is, however, a cost. For communities like this one with gates on their walls, if calls come in that are considered non urgent, you get pushed to the back of the line. So, let’s say that you have a low grade fever, or you only say you feel nauseous. Someone with a one hundred and three degree fever that lives two miles away with no walled community will get priority faster than you will.
“Much as I hate to admit it, especially on a night like this where they’ve locked everyone down and given them the information about sickness, they have made things near impossible. Not just for themselves but for people who live within these walls.” Grabbing the can of soda and lifting it to my lips, I took a sip and let the fizzy drink tickle that back of my throat before I continued.
“If someone in here is already infected, the curfew combined with their announcement about sickness has all emergency lines locked up. Those people that are flocking to the medical centers, are creating a nest of people ready and ripe to be infected because they have no idea of what is actually going on. People acting out of character, that are infected, being thrown in lock up for missing curfew, will be in confined areas giving them the opportunity to infect others. Which brings me back to the point –there are a lot of problems with being locked in behind these walls during an event like this.
“With all I just explained, you’ll understand why I did what I did in a moment. I can say honestly that the chances anyone inside the walls here are infected are slim. That said, the information they have given out is a falsity which means people aren’t looking for flailing zombies that might bite and are unprepared for what is actually happening. This curfew being enacted proves they are trying to contain the situation. With something like that in play, we can assume at the moment only a handful of people have been exhibiting signs of infection and they’re trying to round them up.
“While I can be relatively sure no one that lives here is infected, considering the panic their announcement about sickness will cause, do you honestly think people will quarantine a sick loved one or family member? More than that, when the family member dies and then comes back, they won’t know what they’re dealing with and the infection will spread like wildfire. Thinking in terms of worst case scenario, if someone is infecting their household, most of us likely won’t know till morning and by then we can have a little more freedom to handle it, but for a night when the whole of the community is blocked in? It’s a disaster.
“Working on the belief that very few people… maybe no one inside the walls are infected, enter our zombie friend. I may not have known him, but someone else could have. Can you imagine what would have happened? He wanders up the street for someone to recognize him. They open their door and start yelling to get the attention of their friend or family member. Others open their doors to see what’s happening and our zombified friend attacks the person trying to help him. Chaos explodes from one single event and everyone floods into the street to ‘help’. At that point the situation has more bodies contributing to the madness and more people becoming prey…it’s an instant nightmare waiting to happen.”
Once I had finished, it took me a moment to realize that everyone had gone silent. Every now and then you could hear the soft murmur of someone in the call, likely covering their mic so that they could talk over what I’d just said with whoever happened to be with them. I suppose it did seem a little on the warped, paranoid side. Again, I never claimed to be perfect, but in a situation where you faced life or death, taking things to the next step and considering a worst case scenario would keep you alive longer.
“Still think we might be overreacting?” Robbie asked softly. His question had me turning my head to look at where Cal Mitty seemed to be staring at me blankly from his chair.
“No…no I don’t think so, but how?” The voice coming from my right seemed tremulous. Not with fear but with some kind of emotion or influence I couldn’t really put my finger on.
“How what?” Jay asked, this time his voice held a trace of irritation that I’d not heard in years.
/> I sat back, letting the others talk for a few minutes. Truth be told, somewhere in the middle of my explanation I had grown tired of being the person explaining everything. Whether that happened to be because of explaining going after the zombie earlier or the events leading up to it when Cal had first shown up on my doorstep, I really didn’t know.
What I did know, was that the portion of the conversation where they discussed my mental stability and what I had said, had already begun. While they had their little war room discussion, I had already moved to grab the discarded pack of cigarettes next to my keyboard. Flipping up the cardboard lid and pulling one of them free to place between my lips while the others continued.
Flicking the lighter and lifting it towards the cigarette between my lips, another deep pull was taken so that the end flared. Just as that first inhalation was taken, I felt Cal’s hand slap my own knocking the lighter out of my grip.
“What the hell?” Turning my head to look at him, one brow arched up.
“No need for those. You already had one earlier, remember.” He muttered softly.
“Thanks, Mommy but I think this is a decision I can make on my own.” Frowning a little, I moved to sit back in the chair. Taking another long drag off the cigarette and blew the smoke directly at him.
“Hellllllllo. I asked a question here.” Jay cut in impatiently, a rough crackling sound exploding from the speakers as he exhaled in frustration.
“Ugh.” I have to admit there was a kind of borderline sadistic pleasure in watching the man beside me react to having cigarette smoke blown in his direction. Watching as he gave a series of overly dramatic coughs to try and emphasize his point, I just curled my lips in and took another long drag, blowing that smoke directly in his face afterwards.
“Yeah. He asked you a question, Mr. Mitty.” Placing the emphasis on his last name while I settled back in my chair to watch him try and weasel his way out of this situation.