Seb moved over to Jack and put his hand on his son’s shoulder. She moved to the other side of him and did the same for Rachel. Part of Karla’s mind kept rejecting what it saw and trying to put it in the realm of movie effects. Kept trying to deny what her own eyes saw. Kept trying to make it not real.
Unfortunately, after what she’d seen, she knew it couldn’t be faked. No wonder they were quarantining with the possible threats of bombing cities. And as if that weren’t enough, the station cut to another video, this one of animals at a petting zoo. A goat reached out and bit a little girl’s hand off, then gored the parents with its horns. What had to be the worst part—it was for her—you could see the goat think, bend its knees, and come up just right so the sharp part of its horns became impaled through the ass of the father who now held the child. He screamed with his daughter. The father handed off the baby to the mother, yelling, “Run! Go get help!”
The whole petting zoo became chaotic as animals everywhere began biting children. Rabbits, goats, sheep, chickens, pigs, they all pecked, bit, and scraped at the people nearest them. Unfortunately, that happened to be either children, or children and their parents.
Soon, the hay strewn throughout the pens was covered in blood. But no body parts. The animals ate all of it, including the bones.
The knots in Karla’s stomach twisted tighter, and she fought back the tears. This was what was happening to her beloved horses? The animals didn’t look too different. A few had patches of hair missing, their teeth protruded somewhat, and their eyes appeared wider. That was it. All the real signs that they had the sickness.
The chickens began plucking at each other, and one had roosted on top of a goat which tried to buck it off. But the chicken’s claws were dug in deep. You could see the blood running from where they were inserted. The chicken clucked, and its beak gored deep in the goats back. When it lifted its head, a large chunk of flesh with stringy, unhealthy-looking hair hung from it.
Rachel gagged and ran, presumably to the restroom. Karla’s bile stung at the base of her throat, like supersized heartburn. “I just—I can’t watch this anymore.” Karla gasped and headed in the direction Rachel had gone, her heart screaming the denial which wanted to come out her mouth.
She found the poor teen retching and crying in the bathroom. “I just wanted a family with Jack. A normal life. Is that too much to want?” Her cries held a note of hysteria.
Karla just ran her hand along the girl’s back, trying to comfort, but she had no words. No platitudes, even, to cover this situation. And, as if all they’d just seen wasn’t enough to deal with, things were going to get a lot worse when they found out about her horses. How much more heartbreak could they take?
“Those families,” Rachel cried. “Those kids. They weren’t hurting anyone. The animals just turned on them. I’m glad, now, that Seb and Jack were strong enough to make the decision with Ruff. What if he’d turned on us? I just kept imagining Ruff like that, attacking children, eating them. And, I—oh God.” She retched again, and the tears ran harder.
No words could help now. Karla could only rub her back and offer the comfort of her presence. It would have to be enough, because no answers came to her. “I’m sorry, honey. I’m sorry,” she intoned over and over, wishing she could find something better to say, something to give hope.
All of a sudden, Rachel’s tears stopped with a hiccup. “Your horses,” she breathed up at Karla. “Your, no—that’s what took so long. Oh god. I’m so sorry. It-it was a gunshot I heard?”
Karla wanted to deny it and save the young girl some pain, at least for the night, but she couldn’t do that. Her own anguish pushed down as far as she could managed, she answered, “Yes, we had to shoot a zombified squirrel that had been in the horses’ trailer.”
“The horses...” Rachel trailed off.
“Both bit on their legs,” Karla told her matter of fact while her heart broke into a million pieces. She pushed back the pain, refusing to make things harder for the teen, and focused on the details. “We’ve washed them and put antiseptic on them, but it’s all we can do for now.”
Rachel stood up and hugged her fiercely. “I’m so sorry, Karla.”
“Hey, I don’t hear any fat lady singing.” Karla smiled at her. “We’ll see what we see in the morning.”
Rachel nodded and stepped away to the mirror. She washed her face, then stood staring at herself. “What’s the point of makeup? It smears and goes blotchy if you have any real emotions. It’s fun sometimes. I like playing with the colors. But I’m washing it off now. It seems a pretense. Besides, people who wear makeup could just hide their zombie pallor.”
Karla didn’t know about zombie pallor, but the way her face drained, she probably could give any zombie a run for their money. “Good point,” she replied quietly. “Impressive in fact. You’re very mature for your age.”
“Only child. Had to entertain myself. Rather than trouble, I chose books.” The teen shrugged a shoulder. “I don’t like stupid.”
“Me either.” Karla’s feet started tapping, and her thumb started beating a rhythm on her thigh despite her efforts to hold herself still. She wanted to talk to Seb. Olivia. Soaps. Makeup. Too many coincidences kept bringing her name up to Karla’s mind. And she’d just had a thought, brought on by Rachel’s innocent remark, which she had to tell him.
When they went back out, the television still blared, and the guys’ eyes stared as if they’d been drawn as Japanese anime. She and Rachel quickly tuned into the newscast.
“And the order has come down. With the virus said to be airborne according to the CDC, military troops have started the fire line around the city to prevent people from escaping.” At least the perky blonde didn’t sound quite so chipper about the news anymore. “The jets carrying the smart bombs are fueling as we speak. The whole world seems to be holding its collective breath. Here in the station, the normal chatter is missing. What a thing to witness.”
Things were bad when even the perky blonde sounded as if she stood at a funeral. But, Rachel’s innocent commentary earlier had given her that grain of hope Karla needed to keep going, to try and fight the virus.
“Hey, who knows how to get a hold of the news people?” Karla had a sudden idea sparked by her earlier thought she still needed to tell Seb.
Now all eyes turned to her. “Rachel said something that got me thinking. Seb, when’s the last time anyone saw John at the office?”
“Weeks. He’s been officially terminated. Olivia’s reportedly spitting mad. Says he dropped her like a hunk of rocks.”
“Hmmm. Olivia sure talked to you a lot. Did she give you coffee, food, anything from her house?”
Seb’s face crinkled up in thought. “She tried to. I declined as often as I could, and um, the plant is probably going through withdrawals since it’s not getting its caffeine while I’m gone.”
“Olivia always carried her own hand soap, with whatever excuses. Did you ever use it?”
“No.” She saw the sharpness in his gaze at the last question.
Ah. He’s getting it. “I think Olivia used John to start the infection. I think she’s in on it.”
Seb and the others stared at her incredulously. “How the hell did you get there?” Seb finally asked.
“Look at us. No not us,” she said as she made a circular motion indicating them. “Us, as in our country. As in the Americans. We’re letting them kill our own cities, our people, our resources. Let’s look again. Which cities are being affected?”
As they went through the list, they began to see the pattern. San Antonio, multiple military bases and hospitals, Yakima, training center, agriculture gateway, Tri-Cities, Hanford, Nuclear plant and support systems, on major rivers. The list went on. All the cities had a military/nuclear aspect as well as a natural resource. Yeah, Yakima itself didn’t produce the fruit, but who would want to buy fruit from Yakima Valley growers with the bombing of the training center on one end and the radiation from the nearby nuclear p
lant in Tri-Cities on the other?
What had they uncovered?
Chapter Twenty
Nothing could have prepared us for that stunning realization. It was almost too fantastic an idea to entertain as reality, but the truth was, it fit. I, as many others, had dismissed Olivia as an uppity, two-faced hypocrite, but someone we couldn’t openly fight against in the name of civility, accepting others to have their own opinions.
The plan, as I saw it, was perfect. Insidious. Genius. Why go to war with a country which would cost you billions of dollars, untold lives of your own people, when you could turn them on themselves for a fraction of the cost. Biological warfare at its finest.
And, in our attempt to remain the leader in going green, a virtuous pat on the back, we fell for it, hook, line, and sinker. It is the only explanation that makes sense, even now, with my new knowledge. I think, for me, that is when the emotional toll hit its worst. That someone I knew, someone I worked with every day, could perpetuate such an act of senseless terror, an act of horror so bad, my mind refused to completely wrap around it, just…
My son…
That I knew someone who had made all this happen, gave us all this pain, this anguish…
Life, me, I was never the same afterward. I never trusted so lightly again. Not that it matters. Not with zombies and our own government threatening us from every turn.
Sebastian
Seb sat stunned, unable—unwilling?—to fully comprehend the pattern they’d discovered. An intentionally set virus? What in the hell? But it made sense. And Olivia had been acting a lot different. She had to be in on it somehow. He remembered idly wondering where she’d found the money for real jewels and the BMW. They made good money, but she always had the newest designer clothes and jewelry. She had to be getting kickbacks somewhere. He’d figured he’d just become cynical working insurance and stocks for so long, but perhaps, it really had been more.
“Who do we tell? And what if we tell the wrong people?” Jack threw out there.
That put a hitch in their half-formed plans. Jack was right. How were they supposed to know? The group became silent, and the news broke into their consciousness again.
“The countdown has begun. The fighter jets are en route. The names of the men and women called upon to be a part of this horrible duty are being withheld and classified priority so high, no one knows but the President and Joint Chiefs of Staff.”
God, they had to be sick at what they had to do to protect the rest of the country. Couldn’t something be done to stop it?
He stared in horrified fascination as a large clock had appeared on the screen, counting down to when the bombs would be dropped. What could they say? In silence, they watched the clock’s numbers recede minute by minute. Karla came and sat by him, and Rachel by Jack. He didn’t know about Jack, but he grabbed hold of his love and held tight.
Only three minutes left of the ten minute countdown. The most excruciating five minutes he’d sat through, and he became glad they’d missed the first two talking.
“Wait! They’re turning around!” Jack cried out as the panned-out cameras showed the incoming jets parting and doing a U-turn.
“They’re turning around,” the reporter in the field said jubilantly. “Do you have news back at the station, Mark or Lisa?”
Lisa’s eyes glowed under the camera’s lights, and tears swam down her face. “This just in. They’ve found a cure. They’ve found a cure! It’s a shot for those affected. And they’ve also made a dusting powder to drop over the cities, and it’s ready. Enough for all the affected cities. Oh thank God.”
In the background, the sounds of the station workers clapping and yelling in happiness ran through the broadcast, but no one cared. They’d just seen the worst humanity could do to themselves be stopped. But no one in the house cheered. It wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.
The only thing any of them said was when Karla pointed out, “They found a cure. Oh.”
And though Seb knew she had found hope for her horses, he immediately loaded up the Internet and did a search for the news station that had just broadcasted. There were other things on his mind. After what felt like forever, he found a number and called. He asked to speak to a reporter about news information, but never got past the PR secretary. He told what he hoped would be enough to get interest, but not so much that anyone would come after them, and left his phone number.
He started pacing and running his hands through his hair in frustration.
“I thought we were going to wait, Dad.”
“I know,” Seb replied, more harshly than he intended, so he took a second to modulate his voice before continuing. “But someone needs to know. What if we’re the only ones in this position? Olivia probably wasn’t supposed to spend money where we could see it. What if the other—the other—well, operatives, I guess, were better at hiding it? And what if those who might have seen or noticed are already dead, or eating at the all-you-can-eat smorgasbord of humanity?”
“Seb,” Karla said gently.
“I’m sorry. I’m not angry at you guys. It’s the situation. So, do we put ourselves at risk, or do we save America, and in the long run, all of humanity? This stuff was made outside the US. I don’t think it was ever supposed to become airborne. We can assume that other people are smart enough to figure it out, but what if they all made the same choice? Lay low. Save yourself. Someone else will do it?”
He looked at the faces of the people who meant the most to him. He’d been luckier than others in his situation. Their silence might have hurt, except for the looks on their faces. Fear, yes, but trust. They trusted him. What a relief—and what a burden.
“You make a good point, Seb. Let’s go raid the kitchen. It’ll give us something to do besides watch the news. Now. All of you,” Karla ordered.
Seb smiled as she went into bossy mode, and they all followed her into the spacious, homey kitchen. They found lots of canned goods, plus fruits, sausages, chicken. The fridge was even stocked.
“I think they had an event scheduled,” Karla said.
“Yeah, looks like it. Poor bride.” That was Rachel. He hoped to God she didn’t end up being a poor bride.
“There was probably a change of menu,” Jack piped up.
For a second, they all froze, and then they laughed. Big, belly laughs which released some of the tension. Seb gazed out the window at the peaceful sight. With the laughter in the kitchen and the beauty of nature outside, he could almost believe it. But the barn, though out of view, wasn’t out of his mind.
A horror to face tomorrow when they went to check. For now, they needed the peace. They all sat at the table and ate a decent meal, with desserts and salads galore. There was melt-in-your mouth roast beef, mashed potatoes which just needed heating up, corn, potato salad, and the list went on. They ate and drank and laughed.
They talked of people and things which would likely never be again or who were dead. And though he felt a lingering sadness and saw that reflected on the faces of the others from time to time, it was as if they’d made a pact to have this moment of happiness.
The women agreed to wash and rinse dishes, and the men cleared the table and dried dishes. The noise and chatter continued. Jack started a towel fight, hitting him and Rachel, and it was on.
Seb grabbed the kitchen towel he’d been using to dry and snapped Jack in the thigh in retaliation. Rachel screeched and threw water at him. It hit him in the face, and the look on it had everyone cracking up as water dripped off his nose. Seb snapped Karla to get her involved in the playtime.
Karla was quick to retaliate, throwing bubbles on him. They were all snapping towels and throwing water and suds, and having a grand time. They all had water, and soap, and red marks on them.
Jack stood by a side door, laughing, the sun shining on his face, reflecting the water from their play. Seb got ready to snap his towel at him and froze at the shadow behind him.
The horses were loose.
Chapter Twenty
One
I know. I’m sorry. I just couldn’t finish that last night. The tears I refused to shed made the words blurry...and Karla came to bed. I needed her soft comfort. But we didn’t. I couldn’t. I held her tight. I don’t know when we will again. Not this night. Tonight, I finish my tale as far as we’ve come. Then I will journal as I can. For soon, we will have to leave this sanctuary.
The horses deteriorated quickly—which made me wonder if they’d been bitten early on and the squirrel had just gone with the food source. Maybe the squirrel was an escapee from whatever had left those other animals for dead, and we’d been lucky to sleep in our cars.
I will tell you that the moment I saw that horse, black and shiny as if made of blood, standing behind my son, will forever be the second-worst thing in my life.
What happened next, the first.
Sebastian
The horse’s eyes glared red, and the glistening darkness of her skin glowed in the setting sun. Right behind her stood the other horse, pushing and stomping. Seb took all this in with a swift glance and screamed, “Jack, get away from the door.”
Jack stopped mid-laugh, but stared back at him in confusion. In that moment, the horse stepped back a few steps and charged the door. Glass splintered, the door crashed down off the top hinge. It hit his son on the head, knocking Jack to the floor. The first horse came in, looking as if she had black armor on and came from another time. The second, more gray, still looked impressive and wild.
Their eyes bugged out, appearing like large orbs of amber, and their nostrils like deep dark holes of evil leeching blood. They thundered in, crushing the door the rest of the way down with a mighty crack and sound of hooves.
Rachel, who’d run to Jack to pull him out, was trampled along with Jack, who remained unconscious under the wood door. Her cries cut him to the core, and he wondered where Karla had headed when he’d yelled for Jack to move.
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