The Reaper Virus

by Nathan Barnes

  Fearing attack, I glared, searching for the source. Memories of running through the sniper’s killing field on Cherry Street returned. I was passing the outer fields of the school. The only nearby building was an old fire station. My attention was drawn to something moving in a second floor window. There was a human shape waving around. The figure was dressed in a navy tee shirt and long pants, just the way a fireman would be while not suited up. I was about to dismiss it as another reaper when I realized something wasn’t right about his movement. The creature moved too normal to be a creature at all. I squinted and tried to force some clarity in my sight. The person had stopped, but still held up a hand. A moment later I realized what I was seeing – the man was giving me a “thumbs up.”

  “W-what the hell?” I stuttered. The fireman noticed that he had gained my attention and followed his thumbs up with a more casual wave. All I could think to do was wave back. He showed his thumb once more so I did the same. The entire thing was so odd I actually smiled. Then he held up a finger like he wanted me to wait. He ducked out of view and I passed over the median into the other lane. I wanted to go closer, but the few infected that wandered the school fields had noticed me.

  I watched the roamers hobble excitedly towards me. Their current speed would have them on me in a few minutes. I looked back at the fireman and saw he’d placed some kind of poster against the glass. My head cocked to the side and I tried to figure out what this survivor was trying to tell me. The poster was a shape like a head and shoulders. Then it hit me… it was an outline of an upper body. Across the head was painted a big red “X”. The poster dropped and the firefighter reappeared. He pointed at his head and gave me another thumbs up. The man was trying to make sure I knew how to fight the undead! I waved and nodded my head eagerly in response. My window from attack had closed and four ghouls were coming up on me. I pedaled away watching the friend I didn’t even know waving in the distance.

  Knowing there was another kind civil servant out there gave me a much needed boost in morale. I’d also need to translate that boost into speed, because the largest hill yet was before me. I pedaled fast to try and build up some speed I’d need to topple this mound of road.

  Chapter 26

  Whispers from Home

  1541 hours:

  I was completely out of breath not even halfway up the hill. The road plateaued for a few car lengths then continued its incline. This torture ended at the top with a big intersection and then a gloriously long downhill. Thinking about flying down the other side had me salivating like a grilled cheese was waiting at the bottom on a platter.

  There was another shopping center on each side of the coming intersection. Fortunately for me they both were farther offset from the road. I was confident that I should be able to speed through the area without any problems. Home is was so close I was getting giddy. A thought popped into my mind then… the walkie! I had to be in range by that point. The abrupt change in thinking caused me to squeeze the brakes. The tires skidded a few feet with the rear one coming inches off the ground. Luck alone kept me from getting thrown off.

  I hopped off and side-wheeled the bike towards a truck sitting on the shoulder. A few feet from it lay a corpse, which I desperately hoped was actually dead. I propped the Cannondale against the truck’s side. My eagerness had made me reckless. The bike wasn’t stable and it shifted against the side of the vehicle. It made a sound equivalent to me just punching the damn thing. The face down corpse jerked her body into motion.

  “I don’t have time for this shit!” I yelled at the woman and her widening black eyes. She started to push herself up. Black tar drooled from the creature’s mouth as she attempted to stand. Abandoning my efforts to retrieve the two-way radio, I found where the crowbar poked out of my pack. It slid out of the horizontal resting place and into my angry grip. I ran to the prone, drooling beast as she angled her head to see me coming. Oily gore oozed from her snapping jaws and both soulless eyes went wide.

  Not only was I so close to home, but for the first time in days I was about to talk to Sarah. Rage dominated my motive. Anger seethed from the battered creature I had become. I swung the mini-crowbar like a golf club. The ‘L’ shaped curve became the face of my club and this former human’s head became the golf ball. She eagerly moved towards my flesh as the hook closed upon her head. It punched into her skull with the limited resistance of a stick poked into mud. The steel pierced right about at her ear, stopping at the perpendicular curve.

  I wasn’t sure what I had expected to happen then. Who’s to say what was normal when you were impaling someone’s skull with a tool bought at Home Depot? My ire-induced swing took hold of the woman’s skull and kept going. Before I could reconsider the severity of the attack I watched in horror as her neck angled and snapped altogether. The firm grip I had held released half a second later when I realized what I’d done. Like a bowling pin tossed into the air my crowbar circled at an irregular arc. It didn’t get far thanks to the head that had been attached to one side, but dirty hair trailed behind until it cracked against the road’s shoulder. The woman’s decapitated body fell motionless while spilling gelatinous muck from its neck. Normally I’d be choking through fits of vomiting for committing such a monstrous act. Instead, I left the crowbar where it fell and ran back to the propped up bike.

  That time I was able to find the walkie talkie quickly. I held my breath and hoped it would still turn on. It had been in my pack since this all began, but that didn’t mean much. The world had tossed me and the survival pack around so much it would make sense for the radio to be as broken as I was. Butterflies bombarded my gut while I steadied a shaky hand around the knob controlling both power and volume. I could have cried when it beeped and showed a red ‘on’ light. After ensuring it was on Channel Four, the same channel I put the radio at home on, I pressed the button and lifted it to my face. The red light indicated it was transmitting, but my words wouldn’t come. I found the last bottle of water and guzzled some. Again I went to press the button. This time it greeted me with an obnoxious “BEEP” signifying someone else beat me to the punch.

  “Hello?”

  My heart fluttered with disbelief from hearing the voice of my beloved wife.

  “Sarah!” I tried to control my voice. The exercise in executioner-ism had drawn some attention. Two zombies rose from hidden spots in the opposite travel lane. “Baby, it’s me.”

  “Oh my God!” Her heavenly voice radiated from the tiny radio. I should have covered it or made some attempt at stealth but couldn’t have cared less. “Nathan, I was so worried! We thought you were…” Her tears cut her words short.

  Water streamed from my eyes. The new pair of attackers had begun to clear the grassy median and was getting closer. “I thought I was too, but I’m not far away and I’m coming home. Are you and the kids alright?”

  She choked out her response. “We’re fine. Those things have been all around the neighborhood. A couple of times they came up to the house. Maddox helped me move a bunch of things into the attic and we’ve been spending most of the days up there. I know you told me to only wait but so long for you then go to your parents’ house, but I couldn’t…” I knew she was getting upset and let go of the button. Every word was like listening to music. It filled me with such a drive to be home I probably could have flapped my arms and flew. While I was listening to the walkie the undead duo cleared the grass and stepped onto the pavement. Only two traffic lanes now separated them from me.

  “Baby, listen…” I choked up my tears and conveyed the confidence I now fully believed in. “I’ll be there soon. When I’m at the top of the street I’ll radio ahead that I’m close. Watch for me on a black mountain bike. I’ll come to the gate for the fence in the back, since I don’t know if they will be following me, make sure either you or Maddox is there to open and close the gate quickly.” The first zombie was almost within lunging distance. It let out a moan that made me take my finger off the button to transmit.

  “O
…k…. Sweetie, are you alright?” Sarah had probably heard the moan. She didn’t know where I was or what I’d been through. I couldn’t begin to imagine what was going through her mind after hearing a zombie interject into our conversation.

  I switched hands and thought about going for the Taurus. The anger I felt from being interrupted made me realize that a bullet was too good for these two. My gloved palm found its home on the Kukri. With my left hand I pressed the button on the radio again. “I’m fine, baby.” The reaper moved to lunge. “Just watch for me. I love you.” I placed the walkie on the Cannondale’s seat. Any response from Sarah was inaudible over the commotion that ensued.

  The blows I unleashed on the two creatures were not calculated in their lethality. I was so enraged by the continued interruptions these demons kept causing. I lashed out, delivering non-lethal blows. The attack lacked any of the intentional hits I’d become well versed in. By the time I was done with the two they littered the street in pieces. While the first ghoul was killed by my wild thrashing, the second was completely incapacitated. Its jaw snapped wildly while the remaining eye glared at me with hunger. I spared my gore covered blade and stomped its skull like an aluminum can.

  After pulling my boot heel from the undead man’s skull I went back to the bike. I used the rest of the soiled water to clean off the blade then wiped it off on the pants of the decapitated woman. The Kukri was returned to its scabbard and the radio got clipped next to my pistol. My heart drummed excitedly beneath my battered ribs. Every injured inch of me was ready to push on and end this terrible day.

  * * *

  1558 hours:

  I winced while hopping back atop my ride. You never realize how bad it hurts to sit on a bike seat until you get off and then back on again. I allowed my bottom to hover over the unforgiving seat and pumped my legs to top the hill.

  To my right was a turn lane into the intersection, which was most accessible from the road. If either of the two shopping centers were to be of concern it was this one. I looked down into the offset parking lot and its bordering shops expecting to see undead activity. Much to my delight there was none. I scanned all the way from the Community College building at the corner to the far side at the little Italian restaurant. There were a few cars and some overturned trash cans, but that was it. It was a relief to be surprised by a lack of zombies. Unfortunately, I knew this had to be vacated for a reason. That reason became all to clear when I crested high enough to see the traffic light.

  Silhouettes of infected flooded the area. They clogged the intersection, creating an unholy roadblock. I stopped the bike and racked my brain for options. Did I fight my way through? How deep did the crowd go? Why the fuck were they all there? Why couldn’t they just leave me alone and let me get HOME?! Every thought raced for ways to get past them. I reached back and found the pistol-grip of the Remington. Was I really about to go guns blazing through a horde of zombies?

  Even if the crowd wasn’t that wide I knew I’d never make it through intact. It was obvious that being so reckless after making it so far would be foolish and suicidal. I looked to my side and had an idea. The handlebars shifted and I returned my dirty boots to the pedals. Slowly I coasted into the sunken parking lot at the right. Hopefully I had acted quickly enough that the rotting barricade didn’t take notice of me.

  I cautiously biked through the lot to the far side. A nod of satisfaction confirmed my hopes that there would be a far entrance to the shopping center. I just needed some way to draw the horde away from the traffic light and towards the entrance I’d used before. Pedaling back the way I came I saw my bait. A free standing BP gas station was located at the lot entrance. It was made of the same style red brick used in the rest of the buildings there. The multitude of darkened neon signs and advertisements in the station windows gave clues to its past. Franchised stores also had more tacky ways to draw in more business. It was just another way for the private owner to try and rake in more money and experience had taught me that wherever there was a dollar-hungry private business person, there was a car that advertised their attempt at success.

  On the far side of the station previously hidden from my view by shrubs was a shiny gold Dodge Magnum. I smiled. It was nice to be right every now and then, not to mention I hated that model car with a passion. Everything about it was ugly, but most important was how it would react to what I was about to do…

  The short-barrel Remington came out of its storage place without a fight. Straddling the bike, I kicked along until the car was angled about eight feet ahead. I held it tight and pumped a shell into the breach. I was ready to throw up not fully knowing what was about to happen.

  Chapter 27

  Atonement

  Thunder boomed from the weapon and a spray of lead burst out of the barrel, which tore into the ugly car. Immediately the vehicle screamed its alarm. I had hoped it would be much louder than it was. For a second I wondered if the low volume was just because of the after effects of shooting a shotgun without ear protection, but then I knew it was just this piece of shit car getting the last laugh.

  I jumped into pedaling and went to the store front. Again lead exploded out, shattering the window of the tacky storefront. Many of the neon signs crashed to the shelves below them now, the glass no longer offering support. The most surprising result of my vandalism was the commercial burglary alarm that wailed in response. I couldn’t believe it still had the backup power to completely deafen me.

  “That ought ‘a do it!” I shouted over the ruckus. The barrel of the shotgun still felt hot when I tucked it back into the pack. I would have taken the time to do a better job, but knew that I’d have a lot of company very soon. I could see the first of them already coming around the corner where I’d entered.

  My pedaling was so frantic that I lost balance. I wobbled into a parked mini-van. The bike sideswiped it and set off the van’s alarm. It certainly couldn’t hurt. When I was almost at the side exit I turned to see if the plan was working. Much to my delight I saw dozens of the dead staggering into the lot. I biked as fast as I could through the turn and up towards the intersection. Hopefully enough of them had cleared out, but if not I’d need to be ready. I reached back and pulled the Taurus out of its holster, carefully switching it to my right hand. After a second of shifting I was able to hold the handlebar and the gun at the same time.

  Much to my dismay the area wasn’t empty. I saw at least fifteen of them gathered around an RV stalled in the middle of the intersection. Something about it had their attention. I knew then that trapped survivors must be the true draw of the horde. There was enough of a clearing where I could have zipped by them. I’d done so many deplorable things in the last day that redemption could not come from selfishness, even if that selfishness was meant to save the ones I love.

  I changed course and went towards the motor home. A few of the outermost undead left mingling noticed food approaching quickly. I shouted towards the siege battered vehicle, “If anyone is alive in there…” I raised the pistol and tried to take aim while yelling, “I need you to yell back! I’ll try to clear out enough for you to run for it!”

  If I didn’t hear a response in the next second I was going to turn away. I listened intently past the clamoring of the undead. My heart sunk from hearing nothing back. The wheel began to turn when I heard it, “We’re here!” I was so shaken by the response that I almost flew off the bike and into hungry arms.

  I took aim at the RV’s door. The first two shots missed to an embarrassing degree. It was not often that I got to fire a pistol, let alone from a moving bicycle. After wasting a couple of rounds I hadn’t dropped a single zombie. My bullets missed, but the gunfire made me a prime target. Slowly but surely the creatures vacated the entrance to the motor home and headed towards me. At least ten of them trotted in my direction. Their current course would be my undoing. I screeched to a stop so that I could aim. The lead reaper was thrown off balance with a round to the hip. “Come on, Nathan,” I scolded myself, “if th
is were the climax of a movie I’d turn if off and read a book.”

  As the zombie with a newly shattered hip spun around, I gained some needed aiming perspective. In the time it took me to pull the trigger and adjust my aim I succeeded in dropping four of the bastards to the ground. The hungry flock had become so ravenous being close to me that they bunched together. My kill shots created a wall the rear zombies tripped on.

  For the first time I could see the door to the motor home past the writhing group. “GO NOW!” I hollered at the vehicle. The gore beaten door began to move from the inside out. A man jumped out with a baseball bat. He looked dirty and weathered. One of the infected came around the side of the bumper towards him. Without hesitation this bedraggled man swung at the beast. I couldn’t see the result of his attack due to my eyes being fixed on the door. Another person, a small, but fierce looking woman, jumped out wearing a camping style frame pack and holding a two-by-four embedded with nails.

  They both stood like deer in the headlights. The woman was shielding her eyes from the late day light. God only knew how long they had been trapped inside that RV. Their gazes were fixed on me and the beasts between us. I can’t imagine what they were thinking. I’m sure they were wondering if this battle weary, well-armed man was a threat. One of the undead rose from the barricade and lunged at me. The round I fired caught him at the hairline. His rotting forehead distorted as the bullet effectively scalped the ravenous reaper. Several zombies remained nearby. Soon we would have much more company after my car alarm bait lost its appeal. The frightened couple froze at the door. The three of us had precious seconds before the swarm returned.