He paused and wiped his mouth. Frothing, he was frothing at the mouth he was so worked up.
"What was the thing they received, sir?"
He waved his left hand in the air, "something the military was working on in Colorado. I’m friends with Jimmy Nance. He is the project director of infectious diseases. I pinned him down one day and asked what the hell was going on. He said they had this new virus that would kill anyone injected with it. That virus would then reanimate the corpse in hours. They had tested it somehow and the tissue samples we received were astounding. They didn’t understand how it worked."
"Wait one minute, they made a damn Zombie virus?"
Pointing the left hand at me, "Good word choice. It replicates itself at an alarming rate. That is why I left Atlanta. I kept up with Jim and told him to watch Doctor Hasan. My fears are correct. Nance called me before the CDC blew up. He said Hasan had done something. He told me I was right. The CDC blew while I was on the phone with him. The line just dropped. That maniac released it. I know he has. That gunfire proves it. Someone had alerted the Jasper County Sheriffs office. They must have told them what was happening in Atlanta. They made a roadblock. The news has been hiding what is going on. But police traffic has been way up."
My mouth hung open. The man had to be a nut case. No way this could be true. Looking at Sharon, I could see she was also in disbelief.
"Uncle Jimmy is dead," she quietly muttered. Well, that wasn’t what I thought she would say.
I tried to get all of this together in my head.
"Um, sir? How do you know all of this? That the police set up a roadblock and they are shooting people from Atlanta?"
With his left thumb, he gestured over his shoulder, "I’m listening to their radio broadcasts."
As if that explained everything. I wondered where his tinfoil hat was hiding.
Chapter 3: Discoveries
"Uh, look, I’m not sure what is going on here. It's getting late. I need to go home."
I really didn’t want to leave Sharon, but this was just getting weird. Her father was unhinged.
"Look, I understand that you don’t believe me. That is normal. You haven’t seen the things that I have. But listen. Have you heard what is happening on out there? It's a Thursday night and there is no one moving. The radio reports are confused as to what happened in Atlanta. I believe that the virus that they were working with is free. We are all in danger unless we prepare for it now. I bought this house because I believed it was defensible. Go home and bring your family here, young man. We can survive this."
My Dad would kill this freak of nature. I doubt that I could convince him. I’m not sure I would want to either. Anyway, it is an opening to head home.
"Uh, sure. I'll talk to my Dad. Sharon, do you want to come with me?"
The man's eyes widened with fear at first, then he nodded his head, "Yes, Sharon. Go with him. He has proved to be a resourceful and trustworthy young man. Convince his father to come here with the family and supplies. We might be able to ride this storm out. I will shutter the windows."
With that, he turned and moved to a control panel in the living room. He inserted a key and gave it a brief turn. Pressing a few buttons, these steel coverings rolled down to cover each windows and locked them into place. They were like the rolling security doors that you see in the big city on storefronts to keep people out at night. This guy was beyond paranoid.
"I will keep the door locked but I won't shutter it until you call or get back. Don't trust the phones. I believe that the circuits will get overwhelmed shortly."
I took Sharon by the hand and we ran for the truck. Things were getting too weird for me. I could still hear occasional gunfire in the distance. I had no idea what was going on but something was up.
Exiting the gate, I helped Sharon into the truck. Things were just eerily quiet. But it was convenient to not have any traffic opposing us. We made record time driving home. When I got there, no one was home. Dad wasn’t back yet. He was usually home by now.
"Where is your Dad?" Sharon asked.
"He should be…" I remembered. He headed into Atlanta today for an errand. "Oh, shit. Dad had to go to Atlanta today. He was supposed to be picking up an old buddy from the airport. I hope he is OK."
"Well, leave a note for him and let's get back to my place. Where do you keep your guns?"
"Hey, look, I’m still not comfortable with all of this. I mean what does he think we need guns for?"
"I’m really not too sure. I have never seen him like this, but I know that Dad is very cautious. He never makes rash decisions. Let's humor him. It won't hurt anything."
I closed my eyes. With my left hand, I started to rub the back of my neck. Well, I could grab one of the rifles and some ammo. "Alright, wait here. I will go get what we need."
In the basement, we kept the safe in a closet. Moving the coats aside, revealed the safe. I punched in the combination and opened it up. Her Dad was carrying an AR. It made sense to bring our AR too. That way we could share ammunition. I pulled it and took about five hundred rounds of ammo from the top shelf. It was less than a third of what we had, but no need to overdo it. I took six thirty round magazines for it. That should be more than enough. That covered me and her Dad. But what would Sharon need? Ah, the Ruger 10/22. That was just the ticket. I pulled it and another five hundred rounds for it. We had the normal ten round box mag for it, plus three of the twenty-five round Ruger BX magazines. The off brand stuff never worked quite right. But the Ruger mags were perfection.
Satisfied with my shopping, I closed and locked the safe and put the coats back in place. Up on the top shelf of the closet was a couple of soft-sided rifle bags. I took a tactical bag for the AR and loaded the ammo and mags to it. I took the rifle bag and put in the Ruger and its ammo. I also took a range bag to load up some other things. Back up in my room, I took some clothes, a couple of books and some basic toiletries. We returned to the truck and loaded everything up in the back seat. Lastly, I returned to the house and left a note for Dad and pinned it to the fridge with a magnet. It was brief and told him where I was going to be.
We got back into the truck and started to drive off. In the headlights, we spotted my neighbor Mr. Sellers. I pulled over and rolled down Sharon's window to talk with him.
"Good evening, sir. What are you doing out with your rifle this evening?"
It wasn’t just his rifle, but he had two pistols stuck in his belt.
"What? Ain't y'all been listening to the news? It's all going to Hell out there. We're going to get looters from the city coming round here and damn it, I’m gonna be ready."
"We heard about the CDC explosion. But they are now just broadcasting the emergency warning and telling us to stay at home."
"That figures. The damn government thinks it knows better than folk. I've been listening to shortwave and ham radio. Those people are givin' us the real shit. Seems that at least one of the four horsemen has come to town. Folks caught some kind of virus in Atlanta. Was listening to a feller in his apartment broadcasting what he was seeing from his fire escape. Folks are eating other people in the streets. He answered his door and a neighbor came in who was bit by one of those freaks. In front of his eyes and while broadcasting, his neighbor died, then got up and came after him. We ain't heard from that boy since. Y'all get someplace safe and hole up a while."
Now Mr. Sellers wasn’t quite right in the head. He was a Vietnam vet whose son died in the first Gulf War. He helped out with my scout troop and taught us plenty of stuff not in the Boy Scout handbook. That was one of the reasons that we liked him. But he was not a man to take lightly. I had a buddy who decided to trail a deer he shot across Mr. Sellers property. That was a big mistake. Mr. Sellers shot him with rock salt from his shotgun. I had heard the screams that day all the way over at my place. As long as you didn’t trespass and were polite, he was nice to you. But no one crossed Mr. Sellers. He was one tough old man.
He leaned in and in a low tone sai
d to us, "Y'all got a radio?"
To which I replied while pointing to the one on the dash, "Yes, sir."
He gave me a cross stare.
"Daniel, you know better than that. That is just the stuff the government wants you to hear. I mean a real radio that you can talk out on."
I shook my head, "No, sir. I sure don't. I never finished with my ham radio license so Daddy wouldn't buy me one."
"Your Pa is a sharp man. A boy who won't finish something ain't gonna treat it right. But times are different now. You need something to communicate. Hold on here. Keep a watch on that road for me. I don't want no damn looter to get the jump on me."
Without another word, he ran back to the house. A few minutes later, he came back carrying two radios. Both were military surplus. He put the larger one in the bed of the truck. He handed me the portable one which was the size of a lady's shoe box. He pulled out the long antennae and showed it to me.
"Look, this is just an old surplus radio case. I fixed it though. You can get both ham and CB frequencies on it. How much do you remember from your license?"
"A good bit, sir. I was ready to take the test." I blushed as I finished the statement, "I just got interested in girls more than radio."
The old man gave me the biggest grin I had ever seen.
"Well now, I can see why that could be a worthwhile distraction."
It was now Sharon's turn to blush which made both Mr. Sellers and I smile all the more.
"Now the one in the bed of your truck is a bit heavier. It has a massive antenna you can set up to get some great range. It is portable as the thing has straps to be used as a backpack. You can charge both from your vehicle or from a normal power outlet. I made the battery packs so don't even try to replace them unless you can solder. Y'all get along now. I’m on 28.4. I put a note on each of them with that on there so you can reach me. Take care, Daniel. I always was fond of you. Don't die, boy."
And with that, he walked back to his lawn chair and took a seat. He popped open the cooler next to him and grabbed a beer. He held it up in a salute of sorts before popping the top and taking a long pull.
I just shook my head in wonder as I put the truck back into gear and rolled on out.
Nothing appeared to be out of the ordinary. Once it gets dark, the traffic on these roads outside of town drops off completely. All the hunters would be back in by now. But when we got to the outskirts, that is when we noticed some trouble. To the west, we saw a glow on the horizon that highlighted a fire.
We rolled the windows down and heard more gunshots. These were far more rapid than the occasional shot heard before. While sitting at a red light, we heard and saw an explosion. Well really, it was a fireball that rose up behind the town. Something had exploded. The sound was like a thunderclap that rolled on for a bit. We had no idea what was going on, but I punched through the red light since no one was around. I don't think the police are looking to give traffic citations today.
We pulled up to the gate and began to hop out of the truck. As we did so, Sharon's Dad jumped out of the house and shouted, "I'll cover you."
Being the smart-ass that I’m, I turned to him and shouted back, "From what?"
He blinked at me and pointed with his left hand towards the noise and gunfire, "From the damn zombies."
I just stopped where I was with bags in hand and the portable radio slung around my neck. I could just stare at the man. Did he honestly just say that some B-Movie monster was on the loose in Georgia? The Klan rising or Islamic terrorism or some anti-government types I could almost believe. But zombies? Well, that would make sense with what Mr. Sellers had said, but he was crazy. But still, zombies? That is too unreal.
Sharon opened the gate and held it for me. I could only just stand there and stare at her old man.
While I was having trouble suspending my disbelief, a car came careening down the street. It struck a light pole down about 200 yards from where we stood in front of Sharon's house. The light post tore into the body of the car before it toppled over. The vehicles headlights winked out. The other nearby lights allowed enough light to show the car but fewer details were now visible.
"Oh, shit. Did you see that?" was the most intelligent thing I could come up with to say. Hmmm, I will have to work on my witty responses.
"Get in the house. You must come in the house, now." Sharon's Dad started to yell at us. He had his rifle shouldered and pointed at the car.
I pointed at the wreck and shouted back, "We need to help them."
I put the bags back into the truck. Being semi-cautious, I put a pistol in my back pocket. Pushing the truck door closed, I began to jog to the accident.
Sharon's Dad went nuts. He was screaming for me to leave them and come inside. Running down his lawn, he grabbed Sharon and pulled the gate shut when I kept going towards the wreck.
The gunfire was starting to slacken now but the glow of the fire was getting more intense. Where were the firetrucks? I know the force was all volunteer, but this was slack, even from them. I reached the car and saw that the airbags had deployed. They were starting to loose air and I could make out the driver.
"Hey, you OK in there?" I yelled at him and tapped the glass on the car.
The head turned towards me. The eyes were yellow where they should have been white. The mouth opened and closed with no real sound coming from the face. I was still trying to process what I was seeing when I saw the arm rested on the window ledge. There was a bite out of it. Also, the blood-soaked sleeve of his business shirt stood out to highlight where the bite was.
Seeing me, the man lunged at me and smacked right into the window. OK, I have to admit it. I screamed like a little girl when it did that. Though I could see it, I still didn’t believe it that I was dealing with an actual zombie. I glanced over and saw that there were no other passengers.
I pulled my Glock from my back pocket. More because it felt like something to do rather than by any thought of shooting this guy in the car. After all, the door was closed, and he was seat belted in. Hell, it could all just be a prank for all I knew.
I could hear some shouting from down the road. I moved carefully around the car to look. Two sheriff's deputies were running towards me. One was shouting the same thing over and over again, "Son of a bitch. Son of a bitch. Son of a bitch."
That was the deputy in the rear. He was a little overweight, but they were moving fast. When the lead deputy caught sight of me, he pulled his pistol and started to point it at me. Not being that slow on the draw, I threw up my hands and yelled, "Don't shoot."
The deputy yelled at me, "Stay away. Just stay the hell away from us."
As they closed the distance, I could see that they weren’t in good shape. The fat one had bite marks on his leg. It had bled rather badly and soaked through his lower left leg. The lead one was better but was sweating and lacked his Smokey Bear hat. He kept running. The fat one started to slow. He waved at me. Then fell face first onto the pavement. The weird factor was just overwhelming. I almost went towards the fat deputy when I saw what they were running from. There were at least two dozen people moving down the street behind them. They had this shambling gait.
"Holy Crap, this can't be real. There is just no way."
I turned and left the deputy and the car wreck alone. Ran back towards my truck. The faster deputy had turned the corner and run on. He was heading toward city hall, I guess. Reaching the truck, I opened the door and got the gear. I moved around to the gate and saw her father with open arms through the bars of the gate.
"Here, hand the bags to me."
"Open the gate and I will bring them in."
He got agitated, "Hand them to me now. We don't have any more time."
That made me warier. This joker wasn’t going to let me in. There was no way I was going to give him my guns and be locked outside with the zombies on the loose.
"The guns aren’t going anywhere that I’m not, sir. Please open the gate."
"Daddy, let Daniel in. W
hat are you doing?"
Meanwhile, the horde kept approaching. Before they got to the fat deputy, he got up. He swayed drunkenly on his feet for a minute and joined the others in their shamble of doom.
I just nodded at him. I turned to Sharon, "Love you but I’m not about to be left out in the cold. I’m going home. You can come with me."
I said that last bit rather hopefully. I didn’t think she would go for it.
"No, you will not, Sharon. We don't know how the virus spreads. He could be infected already."
I turned and opened the passenger rear door to the truck and threw in my supplies. Her father banged his fist on the gate.
"No, we need those supplies."
"Yeah, so do I. You have a fort. I don't. I need it more than you," and slammed the door shut. I pulled out my keys and got in the Tacoma on the driver's side.
Suddenly, the passenger door opened. I almost pulled the trigger on my Glock it surprised me so bad. Sharon had hopped the fence and got in the truck. I just smiled at her while her father yelled. She closed her door and I started the truck. Sharon's Dad, what was his name again? Well, he was a dick. Anyway, he ran back up to his house. The door slammed shut and another rolling screen started to descend covering the front of the door.
Putting the truck in gear, I punched the gas. The zombies were getting closer. It seems that zombie deputy wasn’t at a disadvantage with the shuffle of doom the way he was when living and running. They moved towards the truck. Spinning the wheel, I turned us around and gunned the gas to get out of there quick as can be.
"Where are we going?" panted Sharon. She was starting to see the potential for danger.
"Well, I'm headed back home. I'll try to call Dad. You can call yours if you want. This is just nuts."
She shook her head and swallowed hard, "He was going to leave you out there to them. He can wait awhile. I’m so mad at him right now, I could just spit."
She took a few deep breaths and her eyes went wide, "I can't believe I just ran off like that. I have never done anything like that before."
Hunting Season: A Zombie Survival Story Page 2