by D G Leigh
Never rode in his life. Steve held out his hand for a gentleman's shake. “Deal.”
Jo agreed before retiring and bolting the basement hatch.
* * * * * *
Zero Day + One
--- One ---
“Be careful.” Jo tenderly touched Leslie's hand as he set himself to climb. They'd been staring at the ghostly ruby sky above. The television had remained on all night. Scrolled the same information as yesterday. Nobody left to updated the reports.
Leslie tried to lighten the mood for his own benefit. “Relax, there's no monsters in the attic!”
Steve followed him through the skylight. “It's so quiet?”
The pair stooped low. Crawled to the edge. The night's persistent rain left everything with a sticky surface residue. Leslie's and Steve's clothes stained red. Carried on the air a fragrant flower's aroma that brought a sickness to the throat when inhaled too deeply. Hidden the two shivered, chilled to the core as they viewed humanity's swift overthrow.
Hilo international airport smouldering ruins in the distance. No activity of refugee flights or army presents. An enormous bellowing smoke cloud choked the city airways. Abandoned suburban streets ablaze, roads blocked by resident's lit cars failed to ward off infected. The scene of devastation belonged on a battlefield not backyard USA.
Everywhere a new growth had taken over. Smothering Hawaii's natural flora. Every crack in the concrete gave birth to this thieving opportunist. Some establish sprouts already over a hundred meters high. Parked cars impaled as a new red bamboo variant of the infectious honeycomb flushed at an alarming rate. Among the trunks plantdrones (a friendlier label that survivors felt more comfortable quoting than the word zombie) roamed in lieu of their next victim. Feeding on sap oozing from stem nodules. Their prize for protecting seedlings. These monsters would never go hungry where as scattered human survivors would eventually be forced out from hiding to scavenge.
Leslie watched their symbiotic connection. “The beach honeycomb didn't wither, it spawned farther inland. Using us to clear the next plantation of threats. Repeat and move on.” The deadly spires present among this new crop. “Spores germinated with the rain.”
“I'm not so sure it was rain?” Steve presented his quivering oily palms. “We're infected.” Panicked, stood up. Rubbed his hands all over his trousers trying to get them clean. “It's not coming off.” Became hysterical.
Leslie reached up. Grabbed his belt. Tried to pulled him out of sight. “Quiet! Get down.”
Steve beat him off. Plantdrones drawn to the ruckus artfully traversed the fresh fields of shoots.
“Got to get them off.” Steve threw down his ballistic vest. Started running towards the skylight. The nearest bamboo angled its top nodules. Launched a volley of whistling organic darts, narrowly missed Leslie, punctured Steve's back. His momentum staggered him forward. Fell into the diner. Landed face down on the road spikes. Squirmed then became limp.
Three plantdrones mounted the industrial size bin, managed to reach the previous out of reach guttering. The first grabbed Leslie's ankle, hoisted itself up. Leslie pulled the 9mm from his jeans shot the drooling biter directly in the head. Falling it took the second zombie ascender with it, the pair crash landed onto the bin shattering its plastic lid.
Shuffling on his belly Leslie squeezed under the air-conditioning ducting to avoid any more toxic projectiles. The final plantdrone stood upright at the roof's lip. Studied its new surroundings. Sniffed the air, either tracking Leslie's scent or receiving new instructions from the bamboo vines?
Leslie's own vest got caught. Heard running. Pipework obscured his aim. The mutant attacker bearing down on him. Leslie's bullets hit the plantdrone's sprinting legs but didn't hinder its charge. The creature lunged. With no choice other than to rolled out of his trapped police jacket to avoid its pounce. Leslie's movement attracted another barrage of lethal darts. Flung himself in-between the diner's letters. The sign got peppered with poisoned barbs.
Jo instinctively yanked Susan from the table, away from the body that has just fallen. The child scurried off. Leslie's shotgun located on the bar behind Steve. No longer human he rose. His bleeding body riddled with zig-zagged puncture wounds caused by the police stinger. Thinking on her feet Jo sprayed him with the a restaurant fire extinguisher. Blinded his attack then send him to meet his making with a couple of blunt force blows to the head using the heavy cylinder. “Stay where you are Susan.” The girl didn't answer, well hidden from sight.
Jo readied the shotgun at the skylight. In two minds whether to call out or not? Would she have to kill Leslie to? “Leslie?” Her first try lacked conviction. Louder on the second. “Leslie?”
A faint reply. “It's okay. I'm okay.” Leslie sat leaning against an extractor fan. Remained on the roof after shooting the final plantdrone. Made sure that there weren't any more climbers lurking. “I'm coming back in.”
Plantdrone strategy wasn't stealth or ambush they openly rushed their prey no matter what their defences. The weed's colossal numbers of converted slaves assured victory even if at first it appeared that the zombified army sustained vast casualties. Worth the sacrifice, the dead still got up. A zombie's brain needed to be nullified for its relentless onslaught to finally come to an end but for every willing warrior that got destroyed there were another thousand fold to take its place.
--- Two ---
For the time being a wobbly tower of stacked tables reached the ceiling to block the skylight. A puny rampart but at least nothing could see in. Leslie temporary moved Steve's corpse to the office. Once night fell he'd dispose of the body over the roof under the cover of darkness. Plantdrones became excited when they'd seen Steve. Sensed that other people were still inside, been clawing at the ply boards ever since.
Leslie cleaned himself in the restroom. Jo found a matching Mel's diner shirt brought it to him. Hesitated at the door, the sign read MEN, these rules didn't apply any more pushed it open.
Topless Leslie laughed as Jo handed him the uniform. “Perhaps we should open up this place together?”
“Nah! Business lately is dead!”
Hugged sharing the joke. Parting Leslie held Jo's hand, she didn't mind. “We make a good team.”
A moment of silence between them. Staring at each other leant closer to kiss. Intimate contact interrupted as an island wide tsunami warning klaxon began wailing.
Susan entered calmly. She hadn't hesitated at the door. “We need to seek high ground.” Casually informed them. Her school regularly ran flood and earthquake practices. “No need to panic.”
--- Three ---
Although not sure if it's even safe to take to the roof they assemble at the teetering pile of tables. Susan the first to notice the TV receiving new images. The display pixelated but the sound came through perfect.
The voice instantly recognizable. The American President.
“As our top scientists tirelessly strive towards a cure for this global pandemic I've taken the necessary procedures ensuring the protection of our West Coast from this truly horrific contagion. At 4pm Eastern Standard time I gave my authorization for NORAD to launch a low yield tactical nuclear device at the floating Pacific infestation which now encroaches five hundred miles from our shore. I'll take full responsibility for my actions and the ramifications that my impossible decision will have upon our planet. I ask only one thing that other capable nations reserve their right to deploy this deterrent as an ultimate last resort. May God forgive me. Bless the United States and us all.”
Susan clutched her recycled unicorn toy. “Does this mean we're not going horse riding Mr Leslie?”
“I thought things couldn't get any worst?” Jo's anxiety building.
“The blast radius won't effect us, it's too far. He said low yield remember.”
“What about a tsunami or radiative fallout?” Suddenly the real threats directly outside felt incidental. “I doubt there's such a thing as a little nuclear explosion!”
“Back
in the 1960's they tested atomic weapons all the time, a lot closer to home. They never once produced a tsunami.”
“How can you be so sure?” Jo wasn't anybody's fool. Leslie didn't have to lie to her. “Tell me the truth.”
“Last year I striped out asbestos from an old naval station. The retired Colonel overseeing the project told me all about his active duty whilst stationed at Johnston Atoll.” The warning siren ceased. “See told you. The passive defence grid probably picked up the missile's trajectory.” Leslie stopped explaining when he heard Susan giggling to herself. “What you're doing Special Agent?”
Her answer intriguing. “Nothing that I'm not allowed!” Susan sat holding Steve's mobile. “Watching YouTube.”
“The phone's working? You got a signal? Can I see?” Not believing her. The video could've been previously downloaded and stored.
“Sure.” Without complaint willingly handed the device over to Leslie. A stream played showing a bunch of drunk college frat boys dancing in a hotel lined Miami street surround by zombies.
“Why aren't they being savaged?” Jo fascinated plus equally repulsed by the louts entirely sicking behaviour. For a dare, egged on by the recordist, one individual pretended to make-out with a female zombie. Licked her face. Felt her up. All the pranksters heard laughing in the background.
Leslie connected the two, this and observing Steve at their first encounter. “Because they're drunk. A chemical imbalance in our bodies makes us unimportant or useless to them? I don't know?” Checked the phone's keypad, still no service? “How's this working?” Returned to viewing as much information about the botanical virus uploaded from every corner of the globe.
“Wi-Fi!” So obvious, Susan showed Jo a menu card. Access code printed at the bottom.
“She's using the diner's cable, direct from main servers. Not this dope mobile phone satellite bandwidth bullshit. Probably went down under the strain of the first five calls. You're one smart cookie. How'd you bypass Steve's password?”
“I didn't.” She sheepishly confessed. “I watched him enter it in. Am I in trouble?”
“Hell no! I'm going to treat you to a double choc milkshake.” Jo lifted her up. “We can email all our families, let them know we're okay.”
Invisible to the human eye, our bodies can't even feel it, an E3 class electromagnetic pulse from the President's nuclear warhead swept mainland Hawaii nanoseconds after detonation. Enough intensity left to overload the civil electrical grid. Blowing power line transformers. Plunging Mel's diner's three occupants into darkness. Humming freezers fell silent. All man's twenty-first century gadgets fried. The only sound left, scraping zombie talon's against the outside walls.
--- Four ---
“Mummy!” Susan clung tighter to Jo. “I'm scared.”
“Me to!” Jo told the truth.
“Thought this might happen.” Leslie turned on the police flashlight, more powerful beam than the standard household equivalent. “Don't know how many technicians are still working at the power stations? Regulating and monitoring. I'm guessing those types of installations are pretty secure, have to be. The power will return shortly.” Out of sight of Susan shook his head no at Jo. “In the mean time....” Apprehensively climbed the balanced tables, slightly moved the top one. A shaft of tainted sunlight dimly illuminated a small portion of the restaurant. “There's an assortment of candles, mostly for birthday cakes, in the storeroom.”
--- Five ---
Leaving Susan under her favourite table with the torch, the dust sheet lit up like a hot air balloon, Leslie and Jo talked in secret while preparing lunch in the kitchen, steak they took out last night.
“It's toast!” Threw Steve's wiped phone into the garbage. “In order for this not to happen to the entire Western Seaboard NORAD would've detonated the bomb as far away as possible. Probably a test run to see if it would actually eliminated the threat before committing to multiple strikes. Hawaii already infected they'd nothing to lose sacrificing us.”
“Bastards!”
“Hey, there's loads of famous Hollywood stars that still want to appear on big screen. You wouldn't want to upset them with a total blackout of California would you?” Leslie pouted, flashed his eyelashes. “Can't blame the government. They're trying to save humanity. It successfully ended Japan's participation in World War Two.”
“Do you think it worked?”
He waved the question aside. “The power isn't coming back on. Our frozen food will go bad by the end of the week. There's enough can goods to last us a few months with rationing but we're going to need a fresh supply of water. With the power grid down I don't know how long the pumping stations will function? We should fill as many containers as possible. That includes filling the sinks in the restrooms. I don't think it's worth fashioning capture troughs considering the rainwater dye. I would've placed those at the same time as lowering Steve.”
The infection turns people almost instantaneously. One minute you're talking to somebody the next they're trying to rip your face off. He'd been the second person she'd killed. Jo trembled. Prayed she'd never have to harm Susan. “Can you say some nice words for him before you do.
Leslie was simply going to dump the body over the side as quick as he could. “Of course.”
Jo mustered up courage. “Leslie, if I wind up like the others, Susan and me, you'll take care of it won't you?” Asking him to kill them.
“It won't come to that.” The two embraced. “They can't get in.”
“Can you please check all the windows and doors before anything else. That noise is driving me crazy.” Kissed his cheek. Moved to wash the steak. “I'm afraid, truly terrified.”
He'd boarded those windows himself last week. Screwed in properly. Used twenty millimetre planks. “Sure.” Leslie obliged her. Convinced nothing could break through.
Before he'd even left the kitchen Jo quietly but with urgency called him back. Her hands covered in red. Had she cut herself? Leslie grabbed a cloth wrapping Jo's wound.
“I'm not hurt. It isn't blood. It came from the taps. It's the weed!” The creeper had polluted the water supply. Suddenly Jo's eyes became wild. Shoved Leslie away taking his Beretta. Gawked at her coloured hands. “I'm going to become one of them.” Jammed the pistol's barrel under her chin. Saw Leslie's mouth moving, wasn't listening to his words.
Weeping Susan stood peering through the kitchen's door portholes. Caught Jo's attention long enough for Leslie to slap the gun away. “What're you doing?” He yelled. “You're okay! You're not going to change.” Held her face. Tried to shout sense into her. “The weed has to be flowering, a honeycomb thorn, bamboo dart or a bite. Are you listening?”
“Are you sure?”
“We're still talking aren't we? This isn't a séance. You're still in the land of the living.”
Susan held up her soft toy for Jo to take. “Would you like to hold Capitan Trips? He looks after me.” Jo laughed out loud by the simpleness of a child's world. “Mr Leslie, I heard a noise from the office. Has Steve woken up?”
--- Six ---
Tentatively twisted the handle, pulled its bolt from the lock's catcher. Shotgun lead the way. The room shrouded in darkness. Leslie covered the lens of his high intensity torch with a dishcloth, shone the decreased beam in. Luckily he'd been over cautious, handcuffed Steve's corpse to the desk an hour ago. The abomination therein reacted to the introduction of light.
With no further function the weed used Steve's body as a fertiliser bag. Made the only good use left out of him. Draining all his nutrients. Roots grew from under his toenails, ripped through his expensive shoes. His tummy a rich bedding pot for bloomers. Shoots already four foot high, their nodules turned towards Leslie.
Leslie slammed the door. “We're in trouble!” Meant it. “There's bamboo reed in there.”
“How'd did it get in?”
“I put it in there! It's growing out of Steve, what's left of him.” Tapped the plasterboard wall. “These damn things can grow through car
s. This room ain't gonna hold shit.” Huffed. “Can't risk burning it, this whole place might go up. Can't shoot it either.”
“Why not?”
“You saw the news. People leaping upon flames. Whatever we do it'll call its minions to save it.”
“You think they can talk?”
“Chemically, yeah! A odour to warn others. A large enough number of frenzied treehuggers might be able to bash their way in.”
“You said we were safe. Why'd you put him in there?” Disappointed with Leslie's decision.
“It was the best idea at the time!” The pair bickered. “I didn't know he'd turn into Plantzilla!”