Surviving

by Jaron McFall

  He was single with no kids and his parents lived in England. His dad was in the Navy and was stationed there now: some kind of liaison. His only brother, Spencer, was a Marine and he was on Paris Island, a drill sergeant. He had been to see him a couple times but didn’t like going because he could not stand his brother’s best friend and neighbor, Cameron. He didn’t talk to his dad much either because his dad wasn’t proud of his decision not to serve the armed forces; to work at Walgreen’s and get a business degree. To Ross, that was what he wanted. He enjoyed working with people. Plus, the military just wasn’t for him: he was too scrawny and wiry and he liked his hair longer.

  Overall it had been a pretty slow day since most items of any consequence were sold out. The pandemic had driven everyone in at the crack of dawn the day before and cleared the shelves and stockroom of nearly everything. The most that could be found were toys and a few random As Seen on TV items. Right now, Ross was just stocking an empty shelf full of Christmas candy. It’s true it wasn’t even Halloween yet, but the store always got the candy in early. And since there were a lot of empty endcaps, Ross was stocking what he could.

  His eardrums were suddenly split by the sound of a gunshot and he vaguely heard a man yell, “Shut the hell up and give me the damn money!”

  The photo tech’s heart sank to his stomach as he ran around the corner of the aisle to see a man holding a pistol to the cashier’s face as she handed him the cash drawer. Without thinking, he yelled, “Hey.”

  He could feel the adrenaline pumping through his veins and he ran forward. The man with the gun pointed it at the tech and Ross dropped to the floor behind a display table. The man yelled, “Just stay down, dumbass!” as he ran out of the door.

  Ross heard the door close behind the robber and jumped to his feet running to the door. He twisted the lock closed. He went to the counter to make sure that the cashier was okay, “Did he shoot you?” The question sounded stupid to him right after he asked it because he could tell she hadn’t been shot.

  The cashier just shook her head and sat down on the floor pulling her knees to her chest. Emily was an extremely attractive woman, maybe two years younger than Ross. She had darker, caramel colored skin and deep, coffee colored hair. Recently, she had gotten highlights that gave her strips of light tan to accent the curls.

  Ross was standing at the counter stunned, noticing that Emily’s makeup was running down her face when he heard footsteps running toward him. The manager came around the corner running, “Ross, Emily, are you OK? Did he shoot you?”

  To Ross, the question seemed stupid again. “We’re fine. Physically at least,” he added as he looked down at the crying Emily. Ross felt unusually calm considering he just had a gun pointed at him.

  “I’m calling the cops,” Sue, the manager said. Sue was a middle-aged woman with the temperament of a kangaroo—she was very quick, smart, and bouncy. Yet, she was extremely tough. She was one of the toughest women Ross knew. “I can’t believe we were just robbed! These stupid people think that because they have a gun they can just shoot it and take stuff!” Sue’s voice was shaking with both anger and fear.

  It took the cops over two hours to get to the Walgreen’s, by which time the store manager, Mr. Kimbro, was already there. There hadn’t been any customers in the store so the interviews with the cops lasted only a few minutes. The gunman had shot his weapon at the ceiling where there was now a large hole in the foam tile. After everything was done with the cops, Mr. Kimbro shut the store down for the day but told the employees work would continue the next day. Emily promptly quit anyway.

  Ross had plenty to think about as he drove home. In fact, he had enough to think about to keep him up until the next morning, just two hours before he had to get back up for work.

  The next day at work was the same as the previous, without the gunman. Nobody bothered to stop in and shop because people knew they, like everyone else, would be out of canned food, water, and toilet paper. They only had the occasional patient picking up their prescription, and most of them used the drive-through. At one point, Ross had to go help fill prescriptions because a church van full of people were trying to get six months’ worth of prescriptions a piece.

  Other than that, the day went by slow, and this day, Ross was working a double shift. He couldn’t help but to glance at the front door every thirty seconds, letting a knot form in his stomach and throat. Through that very door, the day before had come a gunman, well aimed to kill if he had to.

  Sue, the assistant manager, came striding up to him with a strained smile on her face. “Hey, don’t worry about it, OK,” she said to him and then added, “chances are it won’t happen again. I know the city is crazy but we have a cop making a round here every half hour.”

  “Yeah, I’m not worried about that. More like I’m worried about the fact he almost shot Emily. I wouldn’t care if he shot me.”

  “Are you in love with that girl or what? I’ve seen the way you look at her,” Sue teased.

  “No, she’s a friend. You can’t help but to get close to the people you work with. I would feel the same way if it were you up there that almost got shot. You guys are the closest thing to family I have. You know that.”

  “That doesn’t mean you can’t love her, though.” Sue said innocently.

  “No, my piling schoolwork does. I simply don’t have time to fall in love. Nor do I have the money for it. Didn’t I mention I was a student?” The conversation drifted into many different subjects as the next fifteen minutes went by.

  Ross didn’t have a single photo order come through, or any product to put on the shelf; so, he spent the remainder of his shift behind the counter writing a paper on the influence people had on the Gulf Oil Spill scandal and how it affected modern economics. He drove home and was again kept up by thoughts of what might happen the next day at work, and the coming weeks.

  The trio of hunters were out until almost one a.m. It had been a good decision to take the larger truck since they had bagged two deer, two turkeys, and a few rabbits. One of the deer was even a massive buck with plenty of meat.

  Denise couldn’t believe their luck. However, when she voiced this, Charlie replied, “There was no luck about it, babe. Everything out there was skill.” They hung their kills in a tree to drain and planned to skin them the next day. They got cleaned up and went to bed.

  In the morning, the news broadcast informed viewers that the infection had reached the middle of Kentucky and the five o’clock news would be their last broadcast. The news station was located in Knoxville and it would be overrun with infection by morning Cedric thought. After breakfast, the three men went outside to skin and clean the animals they had killed the previous day. “Do you think this is safe to eat?” Charlie wondered aloud.

  “Of course it is. The infection hasn’t reached this area yet. I would bet anything we could kill today would be safe too,” Ben replied as he worked on the deer meat.

  “We can’t go out today. I think yesterday was our only chance. The infection is way to close and we need to get these cleaned today.” Charlie said while working on the turkeys.

  The conversation ended and they didn’t talk about much else until dinner.

  During dinner that evening, they heard a loud truck engine just outside. They knew it had to be on the other side of the trench, but everyone got up to look out anyway. There was an old, beat up Scottsdale sitting directly in front of where the driveway should have been. Charlie, Cedric, and Ben each grabbed a rifle and went outside. “Do you need something, buddy?” Charlie asked loud enough from the porch so the man could hear.

  “How about somewhere to sleep,” the man answered in response. “I haven’t got anywhere else to go. I have food and water.” The man was around forty years old with graying hair. Cedric thought the man could easily be described as ‘festively plump.’ His shirt was stained with what looked like vegetable oil and his pants were black with it. He was clearly a cook in a kitchen.

  “We don’t h
ave any extra room partner,” it was Ben’s rasping voice that yelled back at the man. He knew that at this point, nobody could be trusted. “You would do better to find somewhere else to go.”

  “Haven’t got anywhere. I saw how you’ve protected your house. Please, the infection is almost here.”

  The air was full of tension as silence crept into the evening’s darkness. The days were getting shorter with the season drawing longer. Cedric stepped off of the porch and went to the edge of the trench to see the man better. “How do we know you won’t kill us to have this protection for yourself?” Cedric’s voice was stiff with fear.

  “I won’t. I won’t do anything to harm you or your family. I just need somewhere to…” but his words were cut off by Ben who had just joined Cedric’s side.

  “I get that. Everyone needs somewhere to go, but we can’t harbor the world. I’m sorry.” Ben placed a hand on Cedric’s shoulder and started leading him away.

  “Cowards!” They heard the cook yell behind them. Just after the man had yelled they heard the clank of chains and metal followed by the resounding thud of the drawbridge smacking the pavement on the other side of the trench. Ben and Cedric both turned, mouths open to see Charlie’s hand on the release for the bridge.

  “If you do anything, you will pay for it a thousand times over.” Charlie’s face was stern and grim as the man smiled and got back into his truck to drive it over the bridge.

  “What are you thinking, son!” Ben yelled as he ran to look Charlie dead in the face.

  “This is still my house. I respect your thoughts as if you were my own father, Ben, but I can’t turn away an innocent man to die. You heard him; he has his own food and water. He won’t take away from our supplies. You can even see his truck bed is loaded with it, and I don’t think he wants to hurt us.” Charlie’s face was set and Ben knew that arguing with him would do him no good.

  “You’d better be right,” was all Ben said as he turned on his heel and walked back to the house.

  Cedric was more understanding of his brother’s decision. He trusted his brother’s judgment, though he was still wary of the man. Charlie approached the man as he got out of his truck and said, “What’s your name?” Charlie extended his hand.

  The gray-haired man shook Charlie’s hand and then Cedric‘s. “Blake Shaw, but you can call me Jack. Everyone does, though I really don’t know why. I’m a cook at Applebee’s in Morristown. Well, that’s what I was at least. Not much to go back to now, though.” He chuckled nervously. “Someone tried robbing it today and threw a Molotov Cocktail behind the bar. It burnt most of the way down. And when I got to my apartment the door was ripped off and almost everything gone. The whole city is in a riot,” Jack finished off with his voice trailing away.

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” Cedric responded when his brother didn’t. “My name is Cedric, and this is my brother, Charlie. That other man you saw is named Ben.”

  “Will he be mad that you let me in his house?” Jack asked looking slightly embarrassed. He had been in the truck and couldn’t hear when Ben and Charlie had had words on the subject.

  “It isn’t his house to be mad about. It’s mine, and he’ll get over it. He just thinks it’s a mistake trusting you.” Charlie paused then added, “It’s not, is it?”

  Jack smiled a broad grin before answering, “It most certainly is not. Trust me, I have always been a man of my word.”

  “I trusted you enough to let you in, didn’t I?”

  “You did, and for that, I thank you,” Jack answered nodding his head once. When he did, Cedric saw a large bald spot in the middle of his crown. The three then made their way back to the house where Charlie introduced everyone in turn.

  That night, Jack slept in the kitchen floor on the other side of the dividing counter, but his snoring still kept Cedric awake. He wasn’t sure if he would ever be able to get one good night sleep in, but he finally fell sleep around three a.m.

  The next morning Jack helped Cedric finish the water pipes and start pumping water into the filter. Jack had improved his design by making the water flow up at the end, explaining that it would give it more time in the fire to kill anything left in it. “I’m not saying yours wasn’t good enough, but to be safe, ya know.”

  “No, I am glad you thought of that. I was wondering if it would be enough for the water to be drinkable. Thanks,” was Cedric’s only response. Despite this change, he still wondered if the piping and fire would be enough.

  The day went by fast as they all had their work to do: Charlie and Ben finished cleaning the meat as Cedric and Jack made sure all the windows and doors were secure. After they inspected everything, they unloaded Jack’s truck. He wasn’t lying when he said he had enough food for himself. In fact, he had enough to last him for two months. “I maxed out every credit card. I wanted to make sure I wouldn’t starve,” he said after Cedric commented on how much he had.

  Everything was completed by three o’clock and the meat was now packed in the freezers in the cellar. “There’s enough meat from our hunt to last us another couple of weeks,” Ben laughed at dinner. “Good thinking of you to break the law and go, Cedric.”

  “Survival of the smartest,” he said. Some people at the table took this the wrong way, but Cedric had just meant it as a pun. He got a few dirty looks as his laughter died immediately.

  After dinner, the group played a few games of cards before bed. “Where do you think the infection is now?” Denise asked the entire group but looking at her dad.

  It was Eliza who answered, “At least to Knoxville. The T.V. won’t bring up any channel and that’s where it comes from.”

  Cedric didn’t think this meant that the infection had indeed reached Knoxville, but it wasn’t hopeful. If it was, though, they only had hours. By car, Knoxville was only fifty minutes away. At the rate the infection seemed to be spreading, Cedric assumed it would take about six hours to reach Morristown. Another hour after that and it would be on them.

  Everyone sat in silence for a few minutes before Sherry added, “So, we should start seeing it very soon. We should be safe, though. On the last news broadcast yesterday, they said the only way it can spread is by getting the infected human’s blood or saliva in your bloodstream. It’s not airborne.”

  “Just like the movies,” Jack added. “It’s just like every zombie movie I have ever saw.”

  The word zombie sent chills up Cedric’s spine. He could feel the goosebumps forming on his skin. He hadn’t heard them directly called that, but he had read it on the internet and thought it privately. Hearing it was something different, though. At Jack’s last statement the table cleared and everyone dispersed into small groups for the rest of the evening.

  Jack’s snores were just as loud as the previous night’s and kept Cedric awake again. Around midnight, as he lay in his sleeping bag thinking, he heard a blood-chilling scream coming from outside. He jumped up from the floor and peered out of the window. He couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary. All he noticed was that the rain was started to fall lightly outside. Cedric was wondering if he just imagined it. He started to pull away from the window when he heard it again, only, this time, he could make out the word ‘help.’

  Adrenaline pulsed through him. He could tell it was a child’s voice. Immediately he jumped away from the window yelling at the top of his lungs, “Help!” He grabbed his piece of steel pipe and the small pistol he had used two days ago and ran outside. He could see the vague outline of a small crowd chasing a small boy about a quarter mile up the road. He ran to the drawbridge and let the gate down as he heard the shouts coming from the house. He couldn’t make out any words over the sound of his pounding heart.

  Cedric ran. Since he hadn’t had time to put on his shoes, his socks were soaking up the rainwater that lay on the street.

  “Hey!” He yelled as he kept pounding toward the danger, every bone in his body drumming with every step. His fear kept screaming in his mind to turn around. Survival instinct tell
s people to run away from danger, not toward it. He knew this might be his last night ever truly alive.

  When he was only yards away from Cedric, the boy tripped and fell in the gravel and pavement. The crowd of crazed-looking people were only yards behind him. As Cedric ran, he raised the pistol in his hand and began firing. One man fell only to stumble back to his feet.

  After he had used all of his rounds, he slid the gun in his pocket and raised the steel pipe. He ran past the boy swinging the pipe like a club and hit a woman across the head. The reverberation in his arm stung, but he did not let go.

  Cedric kicked out as hard as he could to the next closest man and caught him in the middle. The man doubled over, not in pain but rather because of the force of the blow. After he regained his balance, Cedric brought the pipe down hard on the back of the man’s bald head. Cedric felt hands grip his left arm and saw an open mouth lurching toward it. He struck the owner of the mouth hard in the elbow, breaking it. The grip loosed and Cedric jerked away.

  Cedric heard truck tires behind him squeal, but Cedric did not turn to look. He struck the man with the broken elbow hard on the neck with the pipe. Cedric then felt something cold and slimy hit him hard on the small of the back. He shrieked with pain and he turned to see another woman, half her teeth missing, inches from his face. Her right hand was missing. Green, coagulated blood dripped from the wound. He knew when he got his shirt off, her blood would have coated the lower back of it. He grasped the pipe in both hands, one hand on each end, and hit her on the forehead with the middle of it to send her falling backwards. She did not get back up.

  Two more men were left, one clearly had a broken leg and the other had two bullet holes in his chest, but they kept coming at him, slower than the others. He took a step forward but heard a horn blow just as the truck, driven by Charlie, hit the two men, sending them flying.