Around us were a few parked cars and a few more abandoned in the street. The sinking feeling returned to my gut as I looked back at what could be the last safe place I visited in my life.
Chapter 14
Preconceived Notions
1217 hours:
Ever since the night on the parking deck I had planned for this moment. Getting out of the confines of university property had been the only goal other than survival. Now, while standing on the other side of the fence I was overwhelmed with the thought of, “What the fuck do I do now?”
I understood that this daze evidently overcame more than just my thoughts when Lance smacked my leg with his shovel to bring me back to reality. I jolted back to harsh reality and saw Lance had been talking to me.
“Get with it man - daydream later.” Embarrassed, I nodded. He rolled his eyes. “Let’s go up to the corner at the bridge over the Expressway. After that you cross the bridge and I’m going to keep going on parallel to the Expressway on Parkwood Avenue.”
Before I could muster a response he added, “We’ll be out in the open there so go quick and quiet.”
“So, I guess that’s it then, huh?” I said.
“Yeah... it is.” He extended a hand to shake. “Tell the family I said hello.”
I shook his hand, making every attempt to not show that I wasn’t scared shitless. “Here,” I passed him a ratty sheet of folded loose-leaf paper. “This is the address to my parents’ farm. You and the wife would be welcomed.”
He stuck the paper in his pocket and gave me a nod. There were no more words between us. Where thank you or be careful could have been said, there was only anxious silence.
We jogged up the quarter block to the intersection. The Joker was still caught up on the bushes across from the locker rooms. He saw us and attempted to snap his vile jaw excitedly. A black tar-like sheen covered the front of him. I knew I’d be seeing him in my nightmares for the rest of my days.
I veered to the sidewalk on the far side of the four-lane, two-way bridge. Although I’m sure it would have been interesting and informative to look down upon the Expressway, I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I was so panicked that I had already crossed the expanse before looking back.
Standing at the corner of Harrison Street and Grayland Avenue I looked back to see a lack of any pursuers. It also hit me that my partner in escape was nowhere to be seen. For the first time since my car ride into work, I was completely alone.
I knelt down against a stop sign to get my bearings. Getting out of the university and across the Downtown Expressway had been the first hurdle. Now I have to get across the James River. Thinking about doing so and finding a place to stay overnight was beyond my comprehension at the moment.
Going south would lead me to the river, but not across it. There were only a few bridges within my limited walking time. Somehow I didn’t think going across a roadway was the best idea. The only way a pedestrian could cross was to go over to Belle Isle.
Belle Isle is a Richmond landmark. It has been several things in its long and tragic history including: a civil war prison camp, a steel mill, a power plant and currently a city park. The island is accessed by a pedestrian bridge that hangs under the Robert E. Lee Bridge. The bridge is a little intimidating as it is a narrow metal grate that hangs directly over the often raging James River. Although there is a much larger road access bridge; it is on the opposite side of the river.
The island holds nothing but happy memories for me. I used to bike there when I was younger. When Sarah and I were dating I tried to win her over with picnics on the giant rocks peppering the water on the south side. We took the kids there so often that probably forty percent of the family pictures hanging up in our house were taken somewhere on Belle Isle.
I became lost in thought from the happiness of the past. Smiling, imagine that! It had to be a sign. Belle Isle would provide for a way across the river without going on a highway. That, plus the notion of traversing an area devoid of houses and I was sold. Having another location set as a goal was somewhat comforting.
Hopefully it wouldn’t take as long to get down by the river. One advantage to the end of the world is that you don’t really have to obey traffic direction or ‘no trespassing’ signs. Normally, I’d have to go up several blocks to reach the normal access point for the island. My plan was to pass through the Oregon Hill neighborhood and over the CSX railway as a shortcut.
I wasn’t fully familiar with the neighborhoods I had to cross through. This was concerning, but as long as I kept due south I should hit my mark. A sound nearby caught my attention.
Three human forms were just east of me. The intersection was very open. The off-ramp from the Downtown Expressway cut an acute angle across a normally square shaped block. It formed a large triangle-like area of grass and trees. The figures were near a sizable bush halfway up the triangle.
I was stupid for stopping in such a vulnerable place. Somehow, they didn’t notice me right away. If they had, then my daydream would have gotten me killed. It was possible to run a block around them, but I opted not to. Frankly, I was fucking tired of these zombies. Now that I was out of university property the prospect of being home seemed reachable. Walking all this way was hard enough… those undead fuckers didn’t make things any easier for an out of shape guy who missed his family and bed!
I decided not to go around them, and see how easy it was to avoid them close up. I couldn’t help but think about last night in the window… staring the enemy in its rotting face and unable to move. The difference now was that I knew I was capable of doing what I needed to do if they got too close.
I quickened my pace and headed right for them. The tall one – a guy - came into focus first. He was bald and wore most of a green flannel shirt. Both of the bastard’s arms were missing. One was torn from the shoulder and the other was severed at the elbow. He used the nub to hoist himself up from the ground where he was knelt down.
Ignoring the fact that he started to lumber towards me, I focused on the area he had been kneeling over. The third figure, or what was left of it, lay face down. Both of the infected had been so thorough in devouring the person that I couldn’t identify much from my passing glance.
The final member of the gruesome trio had moved behind the bush, so I was spared from seeing it until I was nearly upon them. Everything was going great until that point. I was able to keep a good distance even with them advancing on me. Then I saw him.
Anytime you think of a “zombie” you think pretty much the same thing and a child isn’t one of them. The boy had tucked himself back by the bush with my approach. For whatever reason, he did not take the tall one’s lead and chase another meal.
I became so disturbed by the sight that I lost my pace. The tall one made an armless lunge at me. Thank God I came to before he reached me. I reacted quickly with a wild slash, the Kukri thankfully still gripped in my hand. My blade caught him in the neck and passed clean through. His bald severed head fell to the grass while the tall body was carried by momentum towards me. I nearly jumped to avoid it as it fell in my path.
Lacking any desire to engage the undead child, I broke into a run. I bolted up the block until I was nearly at the St. James Church. The minor crowding of infected around the church forced me to turn south on Cherry Street. Were there people in the church? Could be... it would explain why there was a crowd in front.
Yet another thing I would be left wondering about for as long as I’m alive, but I ducked around the corner before any of them noticed me.
I passed half a dozen others before my burning lungs forced me to stop. The whole incident served its informational purpose. It showed me that I could run past them if need be, although I doubted I’d be able to do it in a closed space.
There was a bus stop on the next block. I did a fast survey and didn’t see any undead occupying the area. A bus bench had never been so comfortable. My chest was on fire from panicked breaths taken over the last several minutes. Since fle
eing headquarters I hadn’t run much; jogged yes, but not a whole lot of running.
The reconnaissance mission with the two zombies and the body was a catalyst for my panic. It was stupid of me, really. All my actions leading there were horribly reckless. Running through a mostly unfamiliar area teeming with reapers all because a zombie kid freaked me out? I had to get it through my thick skull that the world I knew was dead.
My sitting alone on this damned street, on this cold bus bench, was the result of more consecutive wrongs than I have ever committed. The only thing more haunting than the sight of the infected boy was the thoughts of my co-workers used as bait.
Questions bombard me every second I didn’t actively force myself to think otherwise.
Was everyone at headquarters still alive? Were the gates at the dorm still holding? was Lance still alive? Did I deserve to be alive after what I had done?
The only things not plaguing my thoughts were worries for Sarah, Maddox and sweet little Calise. I knew that they were alright. I could feel it in my heart. If there were any doubt I don’t know that I’d be able to muster the strength to continue.
Somewhere south of my resting spot a gunshot sounded and snapped me back to reality. I had to stop getting so lost in thought. My goal now was to get to the footbridge and cross the river. There should be plenty of time to get on the island and find a place to stay the night. There was no way I could possibly make it home before sundown.
* * *
1255 hours:
Break time was over. I took a few swigs of Gatorade and headed south once again. My course would take me in the direction of the recent gunshot. Maybe I’d find a living companion. It was sad that I’d been alone less than an hour and I already couldn’t stand it.
There were a few infected in the area. They stood alone like rotting statues. If I kept a low profile and didn’t draw any attention to myself they didn’t even seem to notice me. Most stood angled towards the east – facing downtown.
It was so odd that they all stared off in similar directions. Maybe they had all picked up on a food source in that direction, but couldn’t drive themselves to pursue. The undead brain knew a victim was close, but the nerve impulses hadn’t fired to move.
The distinguishing features of each reaper had started blending together in my mind. Everyone was different, but I could not bring myself to look closely. Ignoring all but their proximity to me gave the illusion that I was just passing through a crowd. If I looked closer I’d notice the missing limbs, the mortal wounds and the gore and despair caked all over them.
This was the world now… this was a world of blending into a crowd of unfathomable horror.
I nearly stumbled over one of them while passing a black Toyota Prius that had sided-swiped two parked cars that remained against them. The wreck scene was on the west side of the street. I had been too distracted by the change coming in the landscape. Ahead of me, the street was becoming lined with houses only on the eastern side. Hollywood Cemetery, a massive burial ground for Civil War icons, began its framing of the other side of the street that would continue all the way to the river. This sight made me a little excited, because it meant I was getting closer.
The ghoul had no legs. He looked familiar to me. His raggedy appearance combined with the fact that his missing limbs were behind pants tied with a knot made me think he had been a homeless man that frequented the area. He groaned and took a swipe towards my feet. I began to walk past him knowing pursuit wasn’t possible.
I would have continued to walk by if he hadn’t started making such a ruckus. The handicapped creature began thrashing around like a fish out of water. It flailed about in a frustrated tantrum. Everything about the scene reminded me of a toddler mad that he didn’t get his way.
There was nothing I wanted more than to keep walking, but the creature persisted. He started letting out a nauseating mix of moans and gurgles. His jaw snapped open and shut. The dental nightmare made a clicking noise that nearly kept a beat when paired with the rest of his motions.
“Are you fucking serious, man?” I cautiously turned and approached him again. The tantrum settled slightly with my renewed proximity. He acted like a stray dog who wanted my companionship and flesh. When I was just out of arms’ reach he stopped moving. Both arms went to the pavement and he pushed his corpse up like a pushup. Looking at him closer up and intentionally was a mistake. The undead were much easier to deal with when you only looked at them from a distance or whilst fleeing.
He was pathetic, really. All that moved on him now was his jaw. It snapped open and shut with a determined frenzy. His stubbly beard was caked with evidence of his undead crimes. Blackened veins were visibly spider-webbed over any exposed skin that wasn’t already covered in blood or dirt.
I shook my head at him and turned to walk away. Again he started making a racket. This time I was worried he might alert some of his bipedal brethren that dinner was ready.
“Shut your goddamned mouth.” My frustration was boiling over. If I didn’t calm down, it would be me who alerted all the nearby zombies. “You’re not going to eat me and you’re too pathetic to kill.” I turned again and made it all of three steps.
He protested loudly and pulled himself a foot closer. I had enough. Cocking my arm back I took a wide swing with the Kukri. The broad side of the blade smacked him in the side of the head. I don’t know if I was trying to kill him or knock him out. I really just wanted him to be quiet. The strike was forceful enough to jolt his head sideways nearly ninety degrees. He flipped to his back and stopped his tantrum.
“I’m sorry.” Such an act of violence against something once human was becoming a nasty habit. I felt no urge to grieve for what I had just done or for the pathetic creature behind me.
I picked up the pace and continued south.
Two cars up the street, I heard him again. This time he was louder. My rage bubbled over. I ran back to him ignoring everything but my anger. The way his head hung mimicked relaxation. Somehow he flipped back to his stomach.
Once I was in arms’ reach he desperately grabbed hold of my ankle. In one furious motion I swung my blade down, severed his arm at the elbow, and brought it back up over my head to grip with both hands. Tethered by part of his jacket that didn’t come into contact with the Kukri, the severed arm remained with his body. He seemed somewhat flustered, but unaffected by my attack. The ghoul was missing his legs and now his arm. This didn’t deter his efforts to consume me.
He lifted his head as much as his shattered neck could manage. I looked down at the abomination as it attempted to look up at me. Rage blocked any sympathy or remorse.
Both hands gripped the heavy weapon’s handle as I plunged it into my stray zombie’s head. It entered at an angle above his right eye. The entirety of the blade’s wider portion disappeared into my victim. Honestly I had no idea that I was capable of such an act. Chopping and slicing my way through an escape route is one thing, but this was driven by pure anger.
If the crippled zombie had dropped to the ground immediately I would have turned and let my adrenaline carry me straight to the river. That’s how I would have pictured it happening in a movie at least, with the “hero” brutally killing the zombie, it falling to the ground, then him turning and running to the next member of the undead horde. I needed to learn to let go of my preconceived notions about what the zombie apocalypse should be.
In reality the creature was already on the ground and my Kukri was lodged in its skull, like a head on a pike. My left hand let go and the right maintained its permanent grip. His black eyes stared blankly at me. The only motion coming from him was from my pulling on the blade trying to free it. If this didn’t end soon I would end up vomiting on the bastard too. Somehow that felt like overkill.
I shook and pulled on the Kukri. It moved very little from where it protruded at the lower part of its forehead down between his eyes and along the bridge of his nose. At least he was quiet now and dead…again. After a second I couldn’t tak
e it anymore. I couldn’t bear the putrid sight and couldn’t waste any more time here.
My grip on the handle loosened enough to reposition. The sole of my right boot met his face and pushed out. Between the push of my foot and the pull of my arm the blade freed itself. The sound it made coming out was enough to send my stomach over the limit. I turned away from the pathetic, infected corpse and spewed blue Gatorade vomit all over the sidewalk.
Both hands were trembling; the Kukri shook with my arm. It was coated in black muck all the way to the curving center of the blade. Imagine the way a kitchen knife looks after you spread peanut butter. Only the peanut butter was black God-only-knows-what and the jar was a walking dead man’s skull. This brought on a fit of dry heaving. I could have curled up in a ball right there. Every inch of my body hurt. Saying that I felt tired would be an understatement.
Towards the university I heard a bang followed by a car alarm… one of them must have set it off. This was enough of a cue to keep moving. I went over to the crippled, actually dead, zombie. Thank God he was face down now in a small pool of oily black. I bent over and wiped the Kukri on his dirty pea coat. It wasn’t clean, but it made looking at the weapon less stomach churning.
Reverence had no place here. I gave the one-limbed corpse a nod and jogged to the next block, only stopping when I couldn’t see the crime scene I had just left beyond the obstructions. My lungs were burning already, and I would have to walk at a purposeful, cautious pace going forward. If I wasn’t careful, there wouldn’t be any energy in me to use if I had to go in a hurry.
Now that I was traveling along Hollywood Cemetery I had something pleasant to look at. Gazing through the wrought iron fence I was captivated by the solemn beauty of monuments from another era. It also made me wish I could have found a way over the fence to walk through the grounds. I was sad and amused that the idea of walking through that graveyard was so much more appealing than walking through this graveyard. Fortunately, the area I was in wasn’t highly trafficked.
The Reaper Virus Page 14