HOT ZONE: A Post-Apocalyptic Pandemic Thriller (The Zulu Virus Chronicles Book 1)

by Steven Konkoly

  “I’ll start prepping the weapons and ammunition. Rig you a tactical vest. We’ll need more pistol magazines. A few knives and flashlights,” said David. “Then we’ll figure out what we can stuff into the packs without killing ourselves. Right now, you could help out by opening all of the MREs in the bin labeled FOOD—PRIMARY. Separate all the main courses, side dishes and anything else that’s food.”

  “Okay,” said Joshua, nodding. “Dad?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Why can’t we take your truck?” said Joshua.

  “Two reasons. One, the 10th Mountain Division, a regular military unit, has taken up positions along Route 32, forming some kind of quarantine blockade.”

  “You’re a cop. They’ll let you through,” said his son.

  “Maybe. Maybe not. That’s the second reason. I left without permission,” said David. “I’ve seen some things tonight that defy explanation. When I heard they were forming a quarantine zone north of here, I didn’t want to take any chances that we might not be able to get out. And I didn’t want you to be here alone.”

  “What do they think is going on?” said Joshua.

  “That’s the problem,” said David. “Everyone is big on orders, but short on answers. They’re either hiding something, or they really have no idea. Either way, we need to get as far past the Route 32 blockade as possible.”

  “How?”

  “I think we should head northwest and find a quiet spot to cross. They can’t cover the whole thing. We just have to be careful. Stick to cover,” said David. “I’ll get us past them.”

  “Then what?”

  “We keep going until we get cell phone service. I have some friends up north,” said David. “Worst-case scenario, we find a nice pond or lake and live off the land for a while. We’ll be fine.”

  “What about Mom?” said Joshua sullenly.

  “Still no word. My guess is her flight back was cancelled. Part of the quarantine,” said David. “We’ll figure it out when we get cell phone service.”

  “We had service yesterday and this morning,” said Joshua. “She didn’t answer. She always answers.”

  “I can’t explain it, Josh. Everything is beyond messed up,” said David. “We’ll find your mother later. Right now, we need to focus on getting out of here. I want to be walking out of here in less than an hour. You good?”

  “I’m good, Dad. Promise.”

  David sighed, putting a hand on his son’s shoulder. “We’ll find her. Just not right now. I promise.”

  Joshua brightened for a moment, nodding.

  “Let’s get to work,” said David.

  He watched his son for a moment, painfully aware that he had to face the consequences of that lie at some point in the near future.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Jack Harper checked his watch. It had taken them a little over two hours to walk five miles. Not a bad pace, even with the hide-and-seek they played with cars along the road. Mostly police cars in a hurry. He leaned his head against the tree, his eyes drifting shut. Not yet. They didn’t have far to go. He rubbed his face and took a deep breath. A light buzzing sounded in his ear, and he waved his hand next to his head. The mosquitos had found them.

  “You still awake?” he said, nudging his wife’s shoulder.

  “Barely,” she croaked. “I could sleep right here.”

  It wasn’t such a bad idea. They were just outside their friend’s neighborhood, hidden in a thick roadside stretch of forest that didn’t seem connected to a house. They could move deeper into the forest and find a flat enough spot for their bivy bags. Might even be safer than the neighborhood. He swatted his arm, unable to see if his hand had connected with whatever had bitten him.

  “I’m not opposed to the idea,” he said.

  “I’d rather sleep in Deanne’s screen room,” said Emma. “The mosquitos will eat us alive out here. I can smell standing water somewhere close.”

  “You want to get moving?” said Jack. “Sounds quiet enough around here. I can’t imagine we’ll attract much attention at two twenty in the morning.”

  “Yeah. I’m starting to get a little too comfortable here, even with the mosquitos.”

  Jack pushed off the ground far enough to use the tree to lift him the rest of the way. He took Emma’s hand next and helped her up. Shouldering their packs, they walked out of the forest, keeping an eye out for headlights. So far tonight, avoiding trouble north of Interstate 465, outside the quarantine zone, had been fairly straightforward. They crossed the road one at a time, something he’d seen in a movie, and walked together on the sidewalk toward the entrance to their friend Deanne’s neighborhood.

  “You sure you remember which house?” said Jack. “I don’t want to get shot breaking into someone’s screen porch. Mosquitos aren’t that big of a deal.”

  “It’s the second right inside the neighborhood. I’ll recognize the house. It’s almost at the end of the cul-de-sac, on the left. There’s a forest behind them.”

  “Too bad we can’t get inside,” said Jack. “They might have Internet access or a landline.”

  “We’re not breaking into Deanne’s house,” she said. “Anyway, cell service is still out, even up here. It must be more widespread than we thought.”

  “I’m worried it might be a statewide problem. Then what?” said Jack.

  Emma’s pace slowed a bit, the weight of his statement figuratively and literally weighing her down.

  “How far is it to your parents’?” said Emma.

  “About a hundred and fifty miles,” said Jack. “At this pace, allowing for some slowdown, it would take us about seventy hours to walk that distance. Assume we can go for sixteen hours a day, which I think is a stretch; we’d be on the road for four and a half days. That’s best-case scenario. Add weather. Detours for safety. Water procurement. Five to six most likely.”

  “What’s your point?” said Emma. “I feel like you’re working up to something.”

  “Well, given the state of emergency right now, I don’t think it would be too out of line for us to borrow one of Deanne’s cars. I mean, we can drive to my parents’, make contact, and then drive the car back.”

  His wife didn’t pause. “No. We’re not breaking into her house, and we’re certainly not stealing a car.”

  “We’d return it immediately,” said Jack.

  “And repair whatever window or door we broke to get in?”

  “Keep it in mind.”

  “It’s already out of my mind,” said Emma.

  “Just saying,” said Jack.

  “I’m not breaking into my friend’s house,” muttered Emma.

  “I thought it was out of your mind.”

  “It is,” she said.

  “We’ll see.”

  Like the other neighborhoods they’d passed on Towne Road, every exterior light on the houses glowed bright, almost like nothing was wrong just a few short miles south. Maybe it was a citywide strategy to discourage crime. He could see that being the case, because it certainly had a chilling effect on him as they strolled down the sidewalk at two in the morning. He felt distinctly out of place and on display. The mosquito-infested forest wasn’t looking so bad right now.

  “Which house is it?” said Jack.

  “About five houses down on the left.”

  “About five houses? I thought you knew which one it was,” said Jack.

  “I don’t count the houses and turn when I visit,” she said. “I’ll know it when I see it.”

  Jack didn’t like the sound of that. From what he could see from the main road leading through the subdivision, the builder had offered three home plans, with not much variation in the front-facing design. Not a problem during the day, when you could easily differentiate siding and brick colors, but at night—every other house looked pretty damn similar.

  “Do you know her address?” said Jack.

  She stopped on the sidewalk. “Seriously?”

  “Seriously. We can’t be creeping into
someone else’s backyard.”

  “I have it in my phone.”

  “Please double-check,” said Jack. “I’m not trying to be a jerk.”

  “Well—you’re getting there,” she said, pulling out her phone.

  While she scrolled through her contacts list, Jack heard a click somewhere nearby. He glanced around, not finding the source of the sound. Emma must have heard it too, because she was doing the same thing.

  “Hurry up with that address,” said Jack. “Let’s keep walking. I got us covered.”

  They made it several steps before a voice called out from the right.

  “Are you guys lost?”

  Emma slowed, and Jack whispered, “Keep moving.”

  Jack scanned every inch of the house and the bushes as they walked by, unable to determine where the voice originated.

  “You should turn around. We’ve had enough trouble tonight,” said the same voice.

  Jack figured it out this time. A ground-floor window on the house next to them had been raised a few inches, along with the shade. Unless the guy was hiding in the bushes like a lunatic, the window had to be his lookout post. He put himself between Emma and the house, just in case they were in a shoot-first-and-ask-questions neighborhood. It sounded like they’d already had a few problems.

  “We’re not looking for trouble,” said Jack. “We’re friends with Deanne, a few houses down on the left. We’re going to camp out in her yard and head out in the morning. No trouble at all.”

  “Deanne’s out of town,” said the voice.

  “Yes. We know that. She’s in Myrtle Beach, visiting her in-laws,” said Jack.

  “I don’t know anything about where she is,” said the voice.

  “Well, we do, because we’re good friends,” said Jack.

  Emma whispered, pulling at his arm, “There’s another one.”

  Jack turned his head. A man carrying some kind of long gun stood next to the house directly across the street, a few feet from the corner of the garage bays.

  “Keep moving,” he said. “The guy to our right won’t be able to see us if we keep walking.”

  “How does it help us with the other guy,” she said.

  “I don’t know,” whispered Jack.

  Jack heard the familiar sound of a garage door opening. Shit. Here we go. The garage door to their right was already a quarter of the way open. He would have told Emma to run, but the figure across the street had taken a more active stance with his rifle.

  A man ducked under the garage and stood upright, pointing something at them. Jack didn’t think it was a pistol, though he couldn’t tell for sure in the sketchy light.

  “Stop right there!” said the man.

  Jack complied, pulling Emma behind him. “Seriously. We’re not here to cause trouble. We’re getting the hell out of Indianapolis. Simple as that. We’ll be on the road in the morning.”

  Emma whispered very quietly in his ear, “That’s not a gun. It looks like a Nerf blaster wrapped in tape or something.”

  His wife had far better sight than him, so it was entirely possible.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Definitely,” she said. “And I’m pretty sure the guy across the street is holding a broom handle. If it’s a gun, it’s a Revolutionary War flintlock.”

  “You’re awesome, Emma,” he said, stifling a laugh.

  “Time to go!” said the guy standing in front of his open garage.

  Jack was done at this point. If it had been a real gun, he would have been diplomatic, eventually turning around and finding a nice spot in the woods somewhere—away from this crazy shit. Since that wasn’t the case, he decided to go with a less subtle approach.

  “Dude, that’s a Nerf gun,” said Jack. “I can see the tape on it.”

  “It’s real,” said the man, with zero confidence.

  “No, it’s not,” said Jack. “And the guy across the street is carrying a broom handle—or a rake. We’re not here to cause trouble. I promise you that.”

  “We have guns in the neighborhood trained on you right now,” said the man, in a shaky voice.

  “No, you don’t.”

  “The guy next to your supposed friend is a cop,” said the man, pointing two houses down. “You stay in the Chases’ backyard, and you’ll deal with him in the morning.”

  “Good. It’ll be nice to talk to someone with answers,” said Jack. “And an understanding of the law.”

  “I doubt he’ll be up for any of your nonsense.”

  “Odds are that we’ll be gone before he wakes up,” said Jack. “Like I said, we’re pressing north.”

  Emma nudged him and whispered, “See if he has phone service or Internet.”

  “Do you have any phone service?” said Jack.

  “What?” said the man. “Why?”

  “My parents live a few hours north. If you have a landline or Internet service, we could get in touch with them. They’d come get us right away.”

  “We’re not stupid,” said the man. “Nobody is letting you in their house.”

  “Then let me jump on your Wi-Fi,” said Jack. “I can do that from here.”

  “I’m not getting any Wi-Fi signals,” said Emma.

  “You won’t. We lost everything about four hours ago,” said the man. “How do you know the Chases?”

  “I know her from NevoTech. We both work in the finance department,” said Emma.

  “Are you going to put the Nerf gun down?” said Jack.

  The man lowered the plastic gun and took a few cautious steps toward them. “Sorry about that. We’re doing our best to keep an eye on the neighborhood. We had a violent breakin earlier. People walking up from Indy.”

  “I promise you we’re not here to break into any houses,” said Jack. “We’re just looking for a relatively safe place to crash out until first light. The Chases’ screen porch sounded more appealing than the forest. I’m Jack, by the way. This is my wife, Emma.”

  “Travis,” he said. “That’s Spencer across the street. Pretty sure that’s a broom handle.”

  “It is!” yelled Spencer. “I’m going back in if everything’s all right.”

  Travis gave him a thumbs-up before turning his attention back to the conversation. “How far have you travelled?”

  “Broad Ripple,” said Jack. “We had a Jeep, but lost that in an accident at Seventy-Ninth and Michigan. Been on foot ever since. Not that the Jeep would have made a difference.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The 465 has been turned into some kind of quarantine boundary zone—patrolled by the National Guard.”

  “What?” said Travis. “You’re not serious.”

  “I wish I wasn’t,” said Jack. “They’ve set up blockades a few blocks ahead of any on-ramps, overpasses or underpasses. We managed to sneak across the interstate between vehicle patrols.”

  “This is fucking insane,” said Travis. “The whole 465 is a quarantine line?”

  “That’s what the National Guard soldiers at Ditch and Eighty-Sixth said. The whole thing.”

  “What the hell is happening in Indianapolis?” said Travis.

  “Nobody knows,” said Emma. “But it’s more than just a flu thing, like the news suggests.”

  “We’re not even getting the news anymore,” said Travis. “Spencer has a TV with an antenna. Nothing.”

  “It’s almost like an information blackout,” said Jack.

  “Blackout,” repeated Travis. “What if the power goes next?”

  Jack honestly hadn’t thought of that. He wasn’t even sure if that was possible on a wide scale. What were they talking about here? Some kind of conspiracy? Even if that was the case, cutting the power would have a disastrous impact on the National Guard’s efforts to enforce the 465 quarantine. Or would it? The soldiers all wore night vision. Jesus. Cutting the power might actually make it easier for them!

  “That’s why we’re getting as far away from here as possible,” said Jack.

  “S
ounds like we need to give this some serious thought, too,” said Travis.

  “I don’t think it’s a crazy idea. At least until things settle down,” said Jack, wanting to add if they ever settle down.

  “Jack, I need to lie down,” said Emma.

  “All right,” he said to her, turning back to Travis. “We’re going to crash in the Chases’ screen room, then take off in the morning. Are we good?”

  “We’re good. Try not to make much noise,” said Travis. “The police officer that lives next door got back about forty minutes ago from his shift. I have no idea what he’ll do if he finds you there.”

  “We’ll be discreet,” said Jack. “Good luck, Travis. Let’s hope this all goes away soon.”

  “Until a few minutes ago, I thought this was a temporary glitch. You know—a momentary panic. Now I’m not so sure,” he said. “Safe travels tomorrow.”

  They continued down the sidewalk, crossing the street in front of the Chases’ house. Emma confirmed the address, and they walked up the driveway, slipping around the house into the backyard. Jack looked at the murky forest, seriously wondering if they might be better off hidden in the foliage. He wasn’t worried about Travis or any of the neighbors. They seemed harmless enough, and they clearly didn’t have access to any firearms. Jack was far more concerned about the home invasion Travis had mentioned.

  It wouldn’t be long before hundreds, if not thousands of people slipped past the 465, all of them desperate to get the hell out of the greater Indianapolis area. Jack and Emma hadn’t been the only people heading north, but they’d only seen a few other groups. Not enough to convince him to hide out in the forest.

  They found the screen porch unlocked, not that it would have taken more than a few seconds to cut through the screen and flip the latch—another reminder that the screen room provided a false sense of enclosure and security. Jack knew the forest was the better option, but the wide cushions on the L-shaped couch in front of him sang a more compelling siren song. He could already feel himself drifting to sleep.

  “You gonna move?” said Emma, gently nudging him in the back.

  He shook his head, still standing in the doorway. “I think I fell asleep standing up.”