The Outbreak

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The Outbreak Page 15

by Atherton, P. A.


  Vincent nodded. “Agreed. What should we do until then?”

  “Well, we still have a few bottles of wine left in here, so I say we celebrate your arrival.”

  Tom grinned. “Crack 'em open, buddy. I could use a drink.” Jim walked into the next room and soon returned carrying three bottles of red wine. He passed one to Tom, another to Vincent, and the three began drinking. They were cheap bottles with twist tops instead of corks, but they tasted good and a wave of relief washed over the group as the alcohol began to flow.

  “ Hey Vincent, you mind grabbing some firewood from outside? There should be some on the porch.”

  Vincent nodded and walked out. He came back in carrying an armful of neatly chopped wood, and together with Jim the pair loaded up the fireplace. Soon the fire was blazing and the men sat back and relaxed, basking in the heat.

  “So, Vincent, how was it? Working as a prison guard, and all?” “ Not too bad. Long hours, but the pay was decent, and as long as you were alright to the prisoners, they didn't give you much trouble. The problem in this case was one of the guards. Harry was his name, and he was one cold, sadistic bastard. He ended up killing the only other survivor left, and I had to kill him myself.”

  “He killed a fellow survivor?”

  “Yeah, a sweet, cute nurse. Slit her throat right in front of me.” “ Damn. That's fucked up. What I wouldn't give for a woman. You get lucky with her? Before she died, I mean.”

  “ No, it wasn't like that. She was so helpless, so kind, I guess I just felt protective of her. Thought of her as a child almost. It was hard seeing her go like that.”

  Jim nodded grimly and a silence filled the room. The men quietly drank their wine, until sleep came over all of them. Tom slept where he was on the couch and the other two curled up on the floor, using rugs as pillows.

  Dawn came and Vincent sat up, looking around. Jim and Tom still slept soundly, so he stood up on shaky legs and went to the bathroom. He'd only had a single bottle of wine, but the hangover was intense and he wasn't sure which would burst first: his head or his bladder. After washing his hands, he walked into the tiny kitchen and grabbed a few crackers. The food went down rough and sat in his gut like a rock. He grimaced and went to wake the others.

  Tom awoke quickly, but Jim took a great deal of shaking to get him up.

  “What's wrong?” He murmured, half asleep.

  “Nothing. But it's best we get a move on early, right?” “ Yeah, yeah, you're right.” He rolled over and climbed to his feet. “Ugh, it's way too early for this shit.”

  “What'll we do about Tom?” “ What do you mean?” “Oh. We'll load him into the back of the jeep and he can wait in the car while we run in for food. It won't do us any good to leave him here alone.”

  “About his leg and all?” Together they carried Tom off the couch and gently put him into the back of the jeep. Tom swore angrily with every bump, as fresh waves of pain shot through his broken leg. When they finally set him down, he grit his teeth. “Pass me my gun, I'm ready.”

  Jim handed Tom his rifle and three spare clips of ammunition. Tom quickly checked his gun, before laying it across his chest. The other two men piled into the jeep and backed out of the gravel driveway, spewing forth chunks of rock under their tires.

  The road to town was empty, except for the occasional truck laying abandoned on the side of the road and a car that was flipped upside down in a ditch. The only sign of life were the deer that pranced freely across the road. They considered shooting them, but quickly determined that none of them knew how to dress game, and the plan was abandoned.

  The ride into town was silent, but the men were constantly on guard, ready for the inevitable attack that never seemed to come. The sun was high in the sky as they pulled into the prison and they were both hungry and ready to go, their breakfast having been light and unsatisfying. The adrenaline was constantly flowing through their blood, with the prospect of being mobbed constantly on their minds. But the attack never seemed to come.

  In the prison parking lot, they all doublechecked their assault rifles and Jim and Vincent got out of the jeep uneasily. Their trip had been eerily calm and they knew their luck couldn't hold out forever.

  Just as Vincent opened the main entrance, everything fell to pieces. A lone figure stood at the torn gates, still and unmoving. Tom shouldered his rifle, took aim, and fired. Vincent immediately realized that Jim wasn't joking: Tom was an amazing shot. The bullet pierced it's head and it fell to the ground. The echo of the shot unnerved them and they all stood frozen, waiting.

  A howl in the distance sent a shiver up Vincent's spine and on the horizon a dark mass came into view. They watched in horror as the dark mass approached and revealed itself to be a massive mob of infected. Tom, rifle still readied, opened fire, and the others joined him in the assault. But it seemed that no matter how many they killed, the numbers wouldn't thin out at all. For every man they killed, another seemed to take his place.

  By the time the infected reached the gates, ammunition was already running low, but they refused to give up. Vincent and Jim crouched by the back of the jeep and continued firing into the mass. Many shots hit their mark, but the crowd continued to get closer and finally the first of the infected broke the line. A body collided into Jim hard and he fell back, struggling to get the obese man off of his prone body. Vincent lifted his rifle high in the air and brought the butt down on the man's skull with a sickening smash. The body fell limp and Jim rolled out from underneath it, just as another body piled on top.

  Vincent didn't have time to deliver another blow before he too was hit by an infected woman who bashed into him hard, knocking him off his feet. The two men both lay on the ground, struggling to keep gnashing teeth away from their flesh, while Tom continued firing.

  Just when it seemed like they were doomed, the numbers finally thinned and Jim drew his pistol, firing it up into the jaw of his assailant. The blast went through the top of its skull and blood sprayed obscenely into the air. He leaped to his feet and pulled the woman off of Vincent, throwing her a few feet away. Tom responded with a shot through her chest. She collapsed in a heap and the three men stopped to survey the damage. A field of corpses displayed the results of their assault and Vincent swelled with pride to see how well they had stood up to the seemingly impossible attack.

  “ Let's not wait around any longer.” Jim grabbed Tom under the arms. “Help me carry him inside. It's not safe to leave him out here alone.”

  Vincent gave a nod and grabbed him carefully by his waist, afraid of disturbing his broken leg. They carried him through the open front doors and laid him down on the floor, before securing the front doors and locking them from the inside.

  “ These doors are strong, and will hold. Let's leave him here, and together we'll go get supplies. We'll hit the med ward too, and get some painkillers for Tom.”

  this throbbing leg of mine.”

  “Thank fucking god. I could use something for

  Jim hesitated. “Are you sure we should leave him alone?”

  “I'll be fine. You guys go gather up everything. I'll be safe here.” Jim nodded, and together with Vincent they headed down the dim hallways, muscles tense, ready for whatever may come.

  Chapter Thirty Four

  Departure

  “Alright, let's go.” Clive grabbed three bags of food with one hand and his pistol in the other. Alice and Amir grabbed the rest of the bags while John and Paul double-checked their guns. The five of them moved towards the door and Clive opened it slowly, peeking his head out. The coast was clear.

  “Let's move.” They moved out, with Paul in the back and John and Clive in the front, taking the lead. Amir and Alice walked nervously between them.

  “Let us pray that this goes well. I have an ill feeling.” Amir adjusted his grip on the bags and continued walking. The silence was deafening and they moved on uneasily. The walk to the apartment wasn't far, but the distance seemed impossible. They all knew deep down that an at
tack was inevitable. Every crunch of gravel and broken glass under foot sent shivers down their spine, and they irrationally thought that even the quietest sound would attract unwanted attention. Their breathing was quiet, although they were soon thirsting for air, being out of shape from weeks of being mostly immobile, with only the occasional panicked run to give them any physical activity.

  They soon turned the first corner onto Hamilton and finally began to relax. The journey now seemed possible; the infected seemed laughably far away. It was at that very moment that the first sign of danger appeared. As they passed a shattered storefront, a man came lunging out the broken window and tripped into Amir. He screamed and Paul opened fire, sending two shots through the man's torso.

  They all stood over the fresh corpse and stared at it uneasily. Amir's scream was sure to attract more infected and sure enough, a trio of stragglers came running from behind, howling angrily at the small group.

  Paul and Clive took aim and started firing, but the distance was too great and the shots strayed from their mark. It wasn't until the three were within ten paces that the first dropped, and John and Paul dispatched the other two quickly.

  “I think it's time we get moving. More may be coming.” John nodded, and they started walking at a brisker pace than before. They turned another corner and Alice tripped, crushing two of the bags of food.

  “Sorry.” Paul helped her to her feet. “Don't worry about it. Just be careful, we can't afford a sprained ankle or broken leg out here.”

  She nodded and gulped. “Understood.”

  They continued moving, picking up the speed to a light jog.

  Paul stopped. “Wait, do you hear that?” The others paused and listened. A low rumbling sound could be heard in the distance, like rolling thunder.

  “What is that?” Amir frowned.

  “I don't know but -” Paul froze mid-sentence and his eyes widened in horror. “Oh, God.” Behind them a mass of people could be seen, charging straight for them. Alice took off running and the others quickly followed. Amir and Alice took a corner, separating from the others, who continued straight on. Clive called out to them, but they kept going, leaving them far behind.

  The three men looked back as they ran and saw the mob split into two, with a small group following Amir and Alice, and the rest continuing on after them. Far ahead of them, they could see another figure standing alone. Clive raised his gun to shoot, before Paul yelled back at him.

  “It's Isaac, don't shoot!” The old man waved them on, and when they caught up with him, he led them into a hardware store nearby. They leaped over the broken glass and charged through to the back, taking the alleyway exit behind the shop. The alleyway was dark, with the sun hanging low on the horizon and they stumbled over the various littered pieces of garbage laying about.

  Swerving left, they exited the alley and bolted into the apartment above the coffee shop. The balcony hung overhead, with a fire ladder dropping down to the street below. Isaac took the lead and climbed up as fast as his injured leg would let him. The other three quickly followed.

  Once on the balcony Clive raised the ladder, just as the first of the infected reached them, grasping wildly for the bottom rung. He swung it up out of reach and they broke in the doorway that led to the small wooden balcony. The apartment was empty and they took a moment to survey the area. They were in a small living room, with green shag carpeting and a TV propped up on cinder blocks in the corner. The living room led to a kitchen, and beside that was the front door, which led down to a spiraling staircase that sat inside the coffee shop. Together, they began piling furniture against the front door. Soon the barricade reached to the ceiling and extended out into the kitchen.

  “Let's take a break, I think we're safe for now.” Paul sat down on the floor and flopped backwards, wiping the sweat from his brow. The others followed his lead and rested. Howling and screaming could be heard from beneath the balcony, but they otherwise felt safe. The infected seemed to be too simpleminded to search for another way in and their barricade felt adequate, for the moment, at least.

  “What now?”

  Isaac leaned against the wall and sighed. “Well, it seems we're trapped here, for now.”

  John peered over at the old man. “How did you find us, Isaac?” “ I didn't, you found me. I was scouring the streets for any sign of you, and I was getting ready to give up, when you ran right into me.”

  “Well, thanks for coming back, because – Isaac, you're bleeding. Are you alright?” Isaac rubbed his bloodied thigh and laughed. “Just a scratch. Don't worry about it.”

  “ It looks like more than a scratch.” Paul got up and walked over to him, staring down at his leg. “Maybe we should bandage that up.”

  “No, really, it's nothing. I've got it taken care of.” Clive frowned. “It doesn't look like nothing to me. I've seen some pretty nasty wounds and that definitely looks like one of them. Let's see it.”

  Isaac stood up and backed away from the group, scowling. “No. Now listen, when I tell you I'm fine, I mean it. Leave it alone.”

  John held his hands out. “Sorry, we're just concerned.”

  “Well, don't be. I've got it under control.”

  “Alright, let's just drop the subject, then.” “ Sounds good to me.” Isaac sat back down and his anger dissipated. “Sorry to react so harshly, it's just -”

  “ Don't worry about it. It's been a trying day for all of us. Now let's see if there's anything still good to eat in this dump.” John walked over to the kitchen and came back with a bag of popcorn and some canned pears. The four men ate in silence, with only the sound of the infected below and the crunching of popcorn to fill the quiet air.

  Dusk soon came and left them sitting in the darkened room. Only one candle could be found and it burned for just an hour before going out. The men went to sleep restlessly, with the constant growling and shrieking outside keeping them from getting any respite from the horrors of the day.

  Paul awoke at sunrise, and walked over to the balcony. The crowd had cleared away, probably after some other poor soul, but he thanked his luck anyway and returned to awaken the others. After a brief meal, they gathered up all the edible food in the kitchen and climbed back down the ladder outside, heading for the apartment. The trip there was uneventful and they were greeted

  enthusiastically by Eileen, who stood waiting by the door.

  “ I was so worried about you all! I thought for sure I was going to be on my own again. What took you so long?”

  “ Sorry for the delay, but we ran into trouble. We also ran into some more survivors. Eileen, meet Clive.”

  Clive extended his hand and she shook it, smiling. “Nice to meet you, officer. I'll feel much safer having another armed man at our side.”

  “No problem. I just wish we hadn't lost the others.”

  “What others?” “ I had two other survivors with me, but we got separated. I'd like to leave soon, to go looking for them.”

  Paul interrupted. “I don't think thats a good idea. It's too dangerous, and it'd be like finding a needle in a haystack. They're not likely to be sitting out in the open.”

  Clive slumped over. “I suppose you're right. No, it's best we all stick together.” John perked up. “Oh, Eileen, I forgot to tell you the good news. We've got food now, enough for a week at least.” He held up a pair of plastic shopping bags and Paul held out his as well.

  “ Thank god, I finished the last can of food last night, and I'm starving.” She smiled and started looking through the bags. “Oh my god, potato chips! After all these weeks of canned fruits and such, I would have killed for some good old fashioned junk food.”

  “Let's eat then.” The five gathered around the table and an impromptu game of poker started up as they ate. They gambled with pretzels and Eileen soon won the lot.

  John grinned at her. “When did you get so good at poker?”

  “I used to play a lot back in college. We used to have a gambling night at my dorm.”

&n
bsp; “Well, you cleaned us out.”

  She popped a pretzel in her mouth and smiled. “Gotcha.” The day passed pleasantly and they all got to know Clive better, whom they instantly took a liking to. He was a good natured man, easy to get along with. By nightfall, they all felt like old friends and slept peacefully. The day was over, but a new one would arrive shortly, along with the troubles it would bring.

  Chapter Thirty Four

  Searching Anyway

  Clive awoke and felt a gnawing in his belly that wasn't from hunger. The guilt of losing Alice was growing on him and he knew he couldn't stay, despite the impossible odds of finding her. The decision of whether or not to say goodbye to the others troubled him. He finally decided that it would be easier to leave before they awoke. Grabbing his pistol, he gently opened the door and crept out, heading up to the roof.

  The moon still hung in the clear blue sky, but the sun was already peeking over the horizon. It was dim, with heavy cloud cover. It looked like it would rain soon, and Clive thought it best to get moving before it started. He stood on the rooftop briefly and surveyed the city below, trying to figure out which way to go. It quickly became obvious that he should follow the direction she and Amir had turned down, and he rapidly descended the ladder, taking off at a quick jog.

  The streets were empty. He hoped that his luck would hold out. Turning onto Willow Street, he slowed down and carefully inspected the area for signs of his missing comrades. It was hard to discern anything among the carnage and scattered wreckage, and he kept stopping to investigate every detail. In the distance, he saw a body and he froze. Amir, dead. He lay propped against the building, his innards laying out in his lap, face mauled almost beyond recognition. Kneeling down beside him, he whispered a short prayer. Amir would have liked that. He wished he knew a Muslim prayer, but a Christian one would have to do instead.

  After he finished he stood back up and checked out the area. Alice was no where to be found, so he held out hope that she was still alive. The area was covered in blood and he found no clues as to which direction she might have taken. Deciding on the nearest building, he entered a small home. The door was unlocked. The house had ivy growing up the sides of it and was probably a beautiful home back in its day. Now, though, it was worn down and looked like the owners were probably too poor to pay for the obviously necessary repairs.

 

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