Alive

by Ashley Shannon

  “At least step out of the green gunk on the floor, Levi. Jesus.” The annoyance in her voice made him smile, but he did listen and took a few steps over, taunting the beast to follow him.

  “Anything for you, Char.”

  He had read somewhere that girls like that kind of thing. But Levi meant it when he said it. After knowing the girl for a three years, he would do anything for her. He didn’t even know what she was like in real life, or what she looked like, but either way he was entranced by her. As far as looks went, all he had to go on was her avatar. Char was a Blood Elf Priest, blonde and skinny, a beauty compared to his Orc. Her cloth armor was a pristine white and it made her look as if she was glowing. From Levi’s line of sight he could see her avatar casting healing spell after healing spell trying to keep him alive. It was her job to make sure he made it through the battle and she was damn good at it.

  Sometimes he wondered if Char had blonde hair or brown, if she was tall and slender like her avatar, or if she chose to make it entirely different from herself. With his own avatar, Levi when as different from himself as he could. At the beginning of the game, he was given a choice to be a good guy or a bad guy. In real life, Levi considered himself one of the good guys, so in the game he went bad. He considered himself to be reasonably good looking, though very nerdy, so he chose an orc, the ugliest, strongest looking race. The last choice he had was to pick a class. Without hesitation he picked a warrior. Tramain was everything he wasn’t and with that it granted him a freedom to be who he really was.

  “Levi!” Char’s voice rang out, bringing him from the thoughts of trying to imagine what she looked like outside of the game.

  “What?” He asked, but he didn’t need her to answer. Without noticing Levi had slipped into the green liquid that had spewed from the monster’s mouth and covered large area’s of the dungeon floor. In the middle of the green puddle, laid the corpse of Tramain. The release spirit button taunted him. His guild mates groaned at having to start the fight all over.

  “Sorry guys,” Levi said, clicking the button that would release Tramain’s spirit and send him to the nearest graveyard, where he would then have to make his way back to his corpse.

  A whisper messaged from Char popped up as he was running back to his body.

  Char: Are you okay?

  Levi read the message, but wasn’t sure how he should respond. He couldn’t tell her that he had been imagining what she looked like IRL, not even if it was just purely innocent.

  Tramain: Yeah, just tired. Sorry I wasn’t focused.

  He waited for her response, but instead of typing back, Char’s voice floated into his headphones. “Hey guys, I think I’m going to call it a night. It’s four in the morning here.”

  Levi glanced at the clock on his phone. It was four in the morning where he was too. That made him wonder even more about the girl that he loved but knew so little about. She could be somewhere only hours away, or on the same campus, though he highly doubted that. He would know if she went to the same college as him, or at least he hoped he would.

  Char: There now they won’t think we ended because you messed up and died out there ;)

  A grin cracked across Levi’s face. Char always knew how to make him feel better.

  Tramain: Well, I mean, if I would have had a better healer… :)

  Tramain: Want to work on our quest line?

  Char: Thought you were tired? :P

  Tramain: Feeling a little better now

  Char: Sure, let me order some food first. AFK.

  Tramain: I’ve got to go put in some laundry anyways, BRB

  Levi smiled, even though he was incredibly tired, he did want to spend some time with Char by himself. He loved raiding with her, but it was the late night questing when he got to know her. In the beginning, she had made a rule, no personal questions. No asking where do you live, what do you do, or any other boring details. Instead of talking about where they lived or where they worked, they talked about their favorite things, deepest secrets, and heartfelt desires.

  A pile of laundry was stacked up against the wall in his dorm and had been for over a week. Thankfully, Levi didn’t have to share his room with anyone. It wasn’t that he was a total slob but he was kind of messy, messier than he should be. He scooped up the laundry and put it in his basket. After grabbing the laundry soap and a handful of quarters, he headed to leave. The trashcan next to the door was overflowing, another slob type move. Levi made a mental note to take it out when he got back if Char was still AFK.

  The laundry room was deserted. That was to be expected at four in the morning on a weekend. Everyone else in the dorm was either out getting drunk or somewhere getting laid. Levi was sure he was the only sober person roaming the halls.

  Levi pushed all of the clothes from the basket in the washer, ignoring the lesson in sorting that his mother had given him before sending him off to college two states away. Darks, lights, towels, jeans, it was all dirty and needed to be washed, why couldn’t it all be washed together? Who had even come up with these rules?

  The door creaked open, bringing Levi away from the argument he was having in his own head about the rules of laundry. A tall, blond guy Levi recognized from the floor below him had opened the door. He looked a little worse for wear, clearly drunk.

  “Hey, man.”

  The guy, who on a normal day looked like a cut out of a J. Crew catalog, didn’t say anything, but instead just growled. Levi cocked an eyebrow. “Okay then.”

  Maybe this guy was rushing or something, or it was just how the frat guy types were talking these days. The guy stumbled a little as he moved forward. It looked like his ankle was twisted and instead of limping he was dragging it behind him.

  “Are you okay?”

  Again, he didn’t answer, but he did start moving forward. Levi stood just watching him. It looked like the rest of him was fine and actually moving quickly, but his bum foot was holding him back. His arms were reached out, trying to grab ahold of something. Levi, who was not athletic by any means, took three steps backwards and was out of reach.

  “Dude, what the hell?”

  Levi tried to push the guy away, as he moved awkwardly along. His hands kept trying to grab on to something, which Levi was just now realizing was him. Without thought, Levi slapped the guys hands away, turning towards the door. But then the blond, buff guy fell, grabbing Levi’s foot. He fell to the ground, knocking his elbow on the cement floor.

  Scrambling to safety, Levi tried to pull his leg out of the grasp of what he thought was just a drunk frat boy wannabe. Kicking, he knocked the kids face, but noticed that he didn’t start bleeding or even cry out in pain. Instead his surprisingly strong hands and arms, pulled Levi closer to him. With his mouth open, he began to growl again.

  Levi’s heart was racing, but he wasn’t about to give up. He wrapped his hands around the guy’s own fingers that were holding on to his foot. With the strength that he thought he would only find with his orc, he pulled. Something snapped, and Levi screamed when a finger broke off into his hand. It was enough to break the grip on his foot. Levi fell over himself trying to get up, but eventually made it out the door before the frat guy could get back up on his one good foot.

  Levi raced through the halls and back into his room. His fingers quickly brought up Facebook. The statuses from the few college friends he had were all he needed to see. Words like ‘Infection’ and ‘Outbreak’ were all over his newsfeed. Scrolling through Facebook, his eyes fell onto a bold status that had the word ’SAFE’ in the title.

  Safe Places to Go in Dubuque - East High, Mercy Hospital, MLK High, Dover Elementary…

  Levi grabbed a backpack and the necessary items he thought he would need. Then he pulled up World of Warcraft and sent a whisper message to Char.

  Tramain: Are you there?

  Tramain: Char I have to go, my number is 5152390755

  Tramain: I know we said we wouldn’t do the IRL thing, but I need to talk to you. Out of game.

/>   Tramain: Please text me, I have to go. It isn’t safe.

  All he could do was hope that Char would text him. With one last look at the screen, he logged out. Levi turned off the lights behind him, not knowing when he would return.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  The cloud of dust followed Johnny’s truck as he made his way out of the small city of Dubuque. It was still dark, the early morning sky an inky blue color just until it met with the horizon, where it turned a few shades lighter. Local football scores from the night before played on the radio, low, and of no interest to Johnny. When a special bulletin came on with a loud blaring beep, he turned the radio off. He preferred quiet, listening to the sounds of the gravel road and his truck. He pulled into a gated pasture, the entrance hidden by some trees. A large no trespassing sign was bolted to the gate, but it didn’t do much good. Out of state hunters either couldn’t read or didn’t care that this was someone else’s land. They ignored the sign and climbed over the gate, looking for their trophy buck. It annoyed the hell out of him, but without catching them in the act and calling the DNR, there wasn’t anything he could do about it.

  Johnny parked his truck and got out. He took his phone from his pocket and left it in the truck, then locked the doors. He gathered his gear from the back of the truck and pulled it over his shoulder. The gate was covered in red paint, but it was cracked and worn away in some spots. A chain held it shut against the fence. Johnny untwisted it and let himself into the gate and then chained it back up before he left.

  The sun was just beginning to rise as Johnny climbed up the hill of his family’s land. The Old Farm, as they fondly called it, had been in his family for generations. His ancestors had farmed most of it, but on the back half was nothing but timber, and it was Johnny’s favorite place to be.

  The silence that surrounded him when he walked through the trees, dodging and weaving as he went, was what he longed for when he was stuck in the city. If Johnny had his way, he clear out a small portion of the trees and build a house right in the middle. He could wake up and have the peace of the woods surrounding him everyday, there really wasn’t anything that he wanted more.

  The sky was streaked with oranges and yellows, lighting his way, as he tried to quietly move through the dead leaves that covered the ground. His feet were almost silent, treading softly along the land he loved. A squirrel scrambled up a tree, only noticing Johnny when he was a foot away from him. The small creature had no idea that he wasn’t alone.

  With glove covered hands, Johnny climbed the ladder up into his tree stand. One step at a time he moved upward, with his bow and other gear slung over his shoulder. Johnny settled in to spend his morning waiting patiently.

  Hunting and fishing had been Johnny’s favorite activities since he was young. Growing up they had taught him to be patient, hardworking, and gave him an eye for detail. When he was younger, he would hunt and fish with is dad, but after his father passed when he was twelve, these were the activities that he did alone. Solitary had become his new state of being and unlike most people his age, he preferred it that way.

  Since the passing of his father, Johnny had been guarded. Sometimes it seemed pointless to let anyone in because they were just going to leave or die. Instead, he built up a wall and learned that he could go on no matter who came and went from his life. After a few years, he became completely comfortable in his solitude and actually would become agitated when it was disturbed without permission.

  A rustling sound came through the trees, falling on Johnny’s waiting ears. At first, the subtle sounds could be mistaken for a small animal, maybe a raccoon or a rabbit, even that squirrel who had scurried away from him. He held is breath for a moment until the rustling was louder and he could be sure. Out walked a large buck. It was twelve points, large it stature, and had a solid body.

  Johnny had been track this particular buck since the last days of summer. At the start of August he had put up trail cameras. These small cameras that took pictures when they detected motion. He checked them every week or so, and had caught a glimpse here or there of the deer that now stood tall in front of him. He kept pictures on his phone, going over the deers markings, studying his movements. When he met the beast face to face, Johnny wanted to know it was the buck he was looking for.

  The clearing in front of his stand had been the perfect place to wait for the deer to come to him. Johnny had never been much for walking through the timber and trying to root the deer out of hiding. He left that to the social hunters, who traipsed through the woods with a gun in one hand and a beer in the other. Johnny wasn’t as fond of guns as he was of his bow. It took more skill to take down your target with a bow than it did with a gun. Anyone could shoot a gun and hit a large enough target. A bow took skill and finesse.

  The first arrow he shot flew past the buck’s ear by a few inches. It turned it’s head to follow the noise, but didn’t see Johny above it. Quickly, Johnny reloaded his bow and took another shot. His eyes followed the trajectory of the arrow while he held his breath. If he was the kind of man who prayed, he would have said a silent prayer in that moment, but instead he just hoped that his shot would ring true.

  A grunt could be heard throughout the clearing, as the arrow buried deep in the chest of the buck. Johnny’s raised his fist in triumph, watching the deer as it stumbled and then took off. Without hesitation, he climbed down from his stand to follow the deer. Tracking wasn’t his best skill, but there was enough blood spilling from the beast that he could follow his path out of the clearing.

  The trickling trail of blood was easy to follow at first. The deer could be heard crash through the brush, clearly in pain. Running was the animals only instinct. It knew it was in danger and the only thing it could do was to put as much distance between itself and the hunter. Johnny picked up speed, not wanting to loose the trail. He made more noise than he normally would. Sticks cracked under his feet. Every animal around him would know he was there, his cautious steps abandoned for a quicker speed.

  As the deer moved through the woods, dodging trees and bushes, Johnny tried to mimic it’s movements. But after half a mile, he was falling behind. The shot had looked good to him at the time, but this buck wasn’t giving up or slowing down. Forced to stop running, he heaved for breath, bracing himself with a hand against a nearby tree. He listened for the sound of his injured target, but he couldn’t hear anything. Somehow, the buck had gotten away.

  His fist balled up, squeezing tight, pissed that he seemed to have lost the trail. The sun was now shining brightly above him, lighting his way. He looked around for a sign of blood or tracks. All he needed was one sign to pick up the trail again.

  But he couldn’t find it. After thirty minutes, Johny gave up. On a normal day he would have tracked the buck for hours until he found it. But he was due back in town to help his mom with some family business, and he didn’t want to keep her waiting. Defeated, Johnny turned back and went to gather his things.

  The walk back to his truck seemed longer as he trudged back that way. His head hung low as he tried to figure out where he went wrong. He worked out a plan in his head to get back to town and finish things up with his mom as quickly as possible. Then he could come back out to the Old Farm and try to find his kill. By then the deer would likely have worn itself out and hopefully given up its life. Then as long as he found it before anything else did, it’d be all right. Johnny hung onto the hope that he’d be able to mount that deer up and hang it as a trophy, as he climbed in the truck and started it.

  It would take a minute or two for the truck to warm up, so he turned the radio back on and listened while he waited. The loud sound of a warning blared through the speakers even though the volume was turned down low. It was the earsplitting sound they used before bad weather reports. It confused him at first because he had checked the weather, it was suppose to be a mostly clear day, just a little cold and windy, maybe some snow later in the day.

  The message that followed the warning sounds was not abou
t that weather. His fingers twisted the volume nob and the radio got louder just as an announcement came over the airwaves.

  “The following message is apart of the emergency broadcast system.”

  The voice was robotic in nature, as if it were computer generated and not a human at all.

  “Residents of the Dubuque area are encouraged to stay in their homes, for their own safety. Any one who is not a resident of the area should seek shelter at the following safe locations…”

  Johnny was puzzled. The message was telling people to return to their homes and to go to local schools and hospitals for safe haven, but it wasn’t saying why. Beyond urging people to seek safe places, it wasn’t much of an emergency message at all.

  Johnny turned on his phone and waited for it to power on. After the noise that sounded as it came to life, his phone began to go off every few seconds. He was flooded with voicemails and text messages, asking where he was, telling him to come home.

  A text message from his older brother was the one that caught his attention.

  “Dude, you have to come home, it’s a freaking madhouse in town. There are like freaking zombies everywhere.”

  Zombies?

  That had to be a mistake. His brother, Aaron, most have tried to type something else and his phone autocorrected it to zombies. Because zombies didn’t exist outside of a television screen. Johnny put his truck in drive and headed back into town, wondering what he might run into along the way.