With her rapidly beating heart pounding in her ears, she crosses the door’s threshold. The living room directly ahead is cast in gloomy shadows. Dust motes dance in a thin beam of light shining through a gap in the curtains. The house is eerily quiet with an underlying tension. Trish’s dread increases with the sight of lamps turned over and magazines from the coffee table strewn about the room. Several cushions lie at an angle between the floor and couch. The scene reminds her of walking into Katie’s house.
“Mom…Dad? Are you here? It’s me…Trish,” she calls again.
The front door next to her creaks as a gust of wind blows through, pushing it farther open. The dust motes stir with more energy, but her call goes unanswered. Glued to a spot just inside and unwilling to proceed farther inside, she looks around for more clues, but the room refuses to give up the story of what happened. She searches for signs of blood and finds none.
Anxious, she forces her legs to move. Cautiously, she heads toward her parent’s bedroom, where she left them the night before when she headed to the movie. The messy living room leads her to believe that looters may have entered. The house has a feeling of emptiness. If anyone is inside, they surely would have responded in some fashion to her calls. They could be hiding in wait, though. Flicking the hallway switch upward, the darkness down the narrow corridor recedes showing the door to her parent’s room open.
She pauses to listen for any sound…any response to her being inside, not wanting to find what is inside the open doorway. She’s already been through a lot and just isn’t sure that she can handle finding her parents, well, dead. They were sick, but seeing Katie like she was brings images of her parents having succumbed to their illness.
Each step down the hall brings a heightened tension. Her anxiety, lack of nourishment, and the entire surreal nature of the past few hours makes her dizzy, which makes it seem as though the hallway is tilting. She holds a hand out to the wall to stabilize herself and treads slowly toward her parents’ bedroom. The door at the end looms large yet, at the same time, seems to recede into the distance.
Trish stumbles to the doorway, feeling disassociated from her movements. Taking a deep breath in an attempt to stabilize herself, she peeks through the open door. Expecting to see her parents at rest, she instead sees a room much like the living room. Blankets and sheets are partially off the bed. The mattress is askew with the covers draping to the floor. One of the bedside lamps lies on its side atop one of the nightstands, with another upended on the carpet. There is no sign of her parents.
She checks the other rooms with the same results; her parents are nowhere to be found. Heading back to the kitchen to check the fridge for any note they may have left, she finds nothing, but grabs a box of Wheat Thins to calm her stomach. Replacing one of the couch cushions, she sinks down and grabs a handful of wafers.
She stares at the dust drifting through the small beam of light as she chews on her food without really tasting it. Sitting alone in the living room eating stale Wheat Thins, with her parents whereabouts unknown and her best friend lying deathly ill at her house, it all seems very dream-like. She doesn’t know if she should wait for her parents to arrive or head back to see about Katie.
She had thought she would find people in town and get some help, or find her parents alive in bed and not answering their phones for whatever reason. Instead, she found the exact opposite. Feeling very alone, sick with worry, and sad about her parents, the first tears well in her eyes and, feeling so utterly lost, she breaks down. Curling up on the couch with her head on one of the pillows, she feels so fragile. She begins sobbing uncontrollably. With the pillow soaked from her tears, she cries herself to sleep.
Waking with a start, she rubs her eyes and sits up quickly. She looks about the room for any indication that her parents came back but knows the house is just as empty as it was before. Her parents would have woken her if they had returned. Looking through the open front door, she notes from the shadows and lighting that the day has moved into late afternoon. She feels nervous from having fallen asleep, apparently for a few hours, with the front door open. Anyone could have come in.
Her stomach rumbles from the lack of food. Cramming more wafers into her mouth, she thinks about heading to her room to change her clothes, but finds herself unable to move. Thoughts race, seeking answers about where her parents could be. Their cars are in the driveway, so they would either had to have walked out, which is highly unlikely considering their condition, or someone picked them up. She thinks they could possibly be at the hospital.
Pulling out her phone, she sees only a dark screen, her battery having been drained. She knows Katie has a charger in her truck which she can use. Grabbing the box of snacks, a bottle of water from the fridge, and leaving a note, she heads out the door wanting to get to the hospital to check if her parents are there. Plus, she will be able to see about getting help for Katie.
Driving through empty streets, she turns for the hospital. The main parking lot is filled with cars. It looks like mayhem with vehicles parked haphazardly in every available space. More than a few of them have their doors open as if the people were in a rush to get inside. Pulling to the emergency entrance, she sees the same and has a hard time getting into the lot. Near the emergency room, an ambulance sits with its lights slowly flashing.
As she draws closer, she sees several bodies lying both around the entrance and the ambulance. The automatic sliding doors are held open by a couple of bodies and the glass is shattered.
What happened last night? she thinks, eyeing the ruin.
The sun heads closer to the western hills, casting long shadows from the building across the parking lot and vehicles. She knows that she won’t get any answers or help from the hospital. If anyone was inside or responding, they wouldn’t leave bodies strewn about. With a sinking sensation and feeling like she’s the last one left alive, she backs the truck through the snarled mess of vehicles.
With her phone plugged in, she turns on the radio only to find silence on most of the frequencies. A couple are blaring the emergency notification, but she can’t find a station with someone speaking or with music. It’s like the world just up and died. Looking into the late afternoon sky, she searches for signs of helicopters or anything flying. The blue sky is clear.
Heading downtown, she finds much of the same; no one is around except for a several bodies lying on the sidewalks. Most of the ones out in the open seem to be concentrated around the taverns. Some of the shop windows and glass entrance doors have been broken, the shards littering the sidewalk and sparkling in the sunlight.
Halting at one of the stoplights, she honks her horn hoping that someone…anyone will respond. The horn echoes down the empty streets and fades into the distance. With a partial charge on her phone, she turns it on only to find that there still aren’t any messages or voice mails.
Putting the truck in gear, she turns and starts heading back toward the freeway. Numb with not knowing where her parents are, she can at least help her friend, although she has no idea what that might entail. At the very least, she can be there when Katie comes around. She’ll keep her phone charged so her parents can contact her when they can.
I should have checked the house for their phones, she thinks as she heads past the last of the houses.
She makes the last turn toward the second exit and stomps on the brakes. Her body lurches forward from the sudden stop, only held in place by the seat belt. Ahead, a caravan of vehicles is parked by the side of the road. It’s not much different than what she saw by the drive-in on the highway itself, except for a large group of people gathered near the front. They are in a loose group apparently engaged in a conversation. All of their heads turn toward her.
Panic takes hold as she remembers her idea of prisoners escaping. Memories of the horror at the drive-in flash through her terrified mind. Even though they aren’t wearing prison clothes, they most assuredly would have changed out of those by now.
Perhaps that’s why
all of the house doors were open? They may have been looking for clothes and looted them.
She’s about to throw the truck in reverse when she sees several people wave her forward. Unsure of what to do, she remains in place, the idling truck vibrating through the steering wheel. They wave her forward again and then just look in her direction. She stares at the faces, attempting to find one that is familiar. Unable to recognize any of them, shet does note several younger kids in their midst. Feeling that kids wouldn’t be part of a group of escaped convicts, she puts the truck in gear and slowly pulls forward.
Nearing the gathered group, she rolls down her window. One man separates from the gaggle and walks around the hood to her window.
“Good thing you caught us when you did. We were about to head out,” the tall, lean man says.
Trish smells a faint aroma of old sweat and bad breath drift through her window from the man and involuntarily wrinkles her nose.
“I know, it’s not pretty,” he says with a small smile.
“What…what happened?” Trish asks, her voice nervous.
“Surely you’ve heard the news reports over the past couple of days,” the man states.
“Well, yeah. Some of them anyway, but I assumed the news people were just being overly dramatic,” Trish answers.
“Overly dramatic,” the man chuckles. “That’s a good one. You drove through town. Did that look overly dramatic to you?”
“Well, no, but what happened?”
“The short of it is that the ones who were sick either died or went crazy,” the man replies. “By the way, my name’s Carl.”
The man’s words cause a cold wave of fear to flash through her. If what he says is true, then her parents are…dead. She has no idea what he means by going crazy. Sure, she’s heard some of the reports of something happening on military bases, but she really didn’t take much notice.
“Um…I’m Trish. What about my parents?” she asks, her stomach churning.
“I don’t know, kid. Were they sick?”
“Yeah, they both had the flu,” she answers.
He doesn’t answer, his eyes taking on a look of sorrow. At first, Trish feels like she might break down again and sob, but instead, numbness envelopes her.
“I don’t know them or know what happened to them, um, Trish. I’m really sorry. The only thing I know is that we have to be clear of here before dark. You’re welcome to come with us,” the man finally says. “
“My friend. I have my friend, Katie. She’s really sick. Can you come help?” Trish asks, her anxiety returning.
“I’m sorry. We can’t. We have to leave and leave soon. Like I said, you can come with us, but we’re leaving now,” he says.
“Where are you going?”
“We’re gathering everyone we can and heading into the mountains until this all blows over. Once it does, then we’ll come back. Until then, it’s best to stay away from town,” he answers.
“But, my friend. I can’t just leave her,” Trish states. “She needs someone.”
“Look, Trish. We have to leave. Come with us if you want. If you stay, you’ll die, but that’s your choice,” The man states emphatically. “If you stay, though, let me give you this one piece of advice. Stay away from your friend.”
“I…I can’t leave her.”
“Well, if you change your mind. We’re going to be up by Brown’s Creek. Do you know where that is?”
Trish nods.
“Okay, kid. But seriously, I know you’re worried about your friend, but stay away. She’ll turn on you,” the man says and starts to leave.
He hesitates for a moment and reaches to his waist. Withdrawing a long knife with a darkened blade and handle, he hands it to Trish along with a sheath.
“I know you won’t listen to me, but take this. You may need it.”
With that, he makes his way to the others.
“Load up. We don’t have much daylight left,” he bellows.
Trish pulls away slowly, toward the ramp heading the opposite way down the highway. As she turns, the vehicles and people vanish behind an overpass. With Carl’s knife on the seat next to her, she enters the freeway, leaving Carl and his group behind.
Nothing has changed when she pulls into Katie’s driveway, other than the sun sitting lower in the western sky. Small flocks of birds wing their way over a field across the road. She’s sure that her decision to return to Katie is the right one, but she wonders in the back of her mind if she shouldn’t have gone with the group. Unable to find her parents, Katie is the last connection to her old reality that she has left. Everything else she has known is gone.
She’s not sure what the man meant by going crazy, though. She’s heard the news, but Katie was in no condition to do anything when she left. And, if Katie does die, then at least she’ll have a friend with her. Trish can’t imagine the sorrow of dying alone. With her phone and knife in hand, she opens the front door.
“Katie,” she calls, walking inside.
Katie is lying on the couch much like before. The damp towel Trish had placed on her head lies on the floor next to the sofa. The late afternoon sun streams across her still body. The only indication of life is her shallow, panting breath although, to Trish, she seems better. Katie’s face is still pale like before and almost waxen. There is no sweat on her brow, which leads Trish to believe that whatever fever she had is broken.
That’s a good sign at least, Trish thinks, heading into the kitchen to get a glass of water.
It’s been a while since her friend had anything. Returning with the glass, Trish attempts to raise Katie’s head to trickle water in her mouth. Katie swallows convulsively and manages to get some down before gagging and choking on the liquid.
“Katie. You have to drink more. Try again.”
Further attempts prove futile. Looking to the side, Trish sees Katie’s phone and note still in place. No one has returned home. Both of their parents have vanished. She’s tired, hungry, and still carrying the shock of the events with her. Her emotions have run the gamut and now she merely feels numb.
Grabbing herself a bite and something to drink, she settles into one of the easy chairs, wishing she had more medical knowledge. The only thing she can think of at the moment is to keep an eye on Katie, feed her sips of water occasionally, and be there when she recovers. The last action she remembers is laying her phone and knife on the arm of the chair.
She awakes from a dream into darkness, unaware of where she is. She twists left and right to look for the one chasing her. She thought she had lost him with the last turn, but he kept appearing right behind her. Her rapidly beating heart is from the dream terror. Consciousness slowly enters and she realizes where she is.
I’m in Katie’s house. But that was so real, she thinks, too frightened to move.
A thin stream of light pouring through the break in the curtains penetrates the dark and gloomily illuminates the living room. The areas beyond the light are pitch black as if the room is suspended in an inky void. Taking several deep breaths to calm her fear, she allows her heart beat to slow before rising. The shadows vanish as she turns on the lights.
Katie hasn’t moved and is moaning like before with her head turning from side to side. Between the groans, Trish hears a low growl.
She’s coming around, Trish thinks, kneeling beside the couch with a glass of water in her hand.
A clock on the mantle shows that she slept nearly the entire night away. Her dry mouth certainly attests to the fact that she’s been out for a while. Taking a few sips from the glass, she attempts to trickle some into Katie’s mouth. While lifting Katie’s head, her body suddenly goes quiet and relaxes. Her eyes pop open. Katie snaps her vision to Trish’s and locks eyes.
“Katie, thank goodness you’re okay.”
Katie continues to stare fiercely.
“Katie…are you okay?”
Peeling back her lips, Katie snarls. She tilts her head back and opens her mouth wide…and screams.
With a quickness that takes Trish by surprise, Katie lunges at her. Trish is forced backward and raises her other hand up in an attempt to keep Katie’s face from her own. The glass hits her friend on the side of her cheek, spilling the rest of the water, which splashes against her forehead and in her hair.
Pushing against Katie, Trish rises and stumbles backward, her calves catching the edge of the coffee table. Unable to catch herself, she tumbles backward and falls across the table, her head hitting the carpeted floor on the other side. With an ear-piercing shriek, Katie rolls to her feet and launches herself into the air at Trish.
The shock of the attack and hitting her head so hard causes a momentary confusion, but Trish manages to roll her legs off the coffee table and onto the floor. She sees the shadow of Katie above just before feeling her weight slam down onto her. Trish’s own scream is lost beneath the sound of Katie’s high-pitched cry. She immediately feels Katie begin tearing at her. Her dress rips even more and pain erupts from her abdomen.
“Katie…Katie! Stop! It’s me!” Trish yells, trying to keep Katie’s arms at bay.
Trish tries throwing her friend off, but can’t get any leverage. Katie is tearing at her like a maniac, her arms moving faster than Trish can stop them. She tries worming backward on the floor and manages a few inches before a searing pain flares from her stomach. Trish screams and writhes.
Through blurred vision, Trish sees the shadowed form of her friend arch up suddenly. A scream unlike any of the others pours from Katie’s open mouth. One side of her face turns a bright red. Katie claws at that side of her face and rolls to the side. Her legs kick against the carpet with her upper body turning back and forth. Shrieks fill the living room, shaking the very walls. Trish sees her friend arch her back, and suddenly go limp. The screams stop and the only sound is a last breath of air flowing out of Katie’s lungs.
A New World: Untold Stories Page 15