Nano Z

by Brad Knight

  Amber didn’t expect to see any canned goods. Even the teen was smart enough to figure that any person that lived in a house like the one she was in wouldn’t be slumming it, eating out of a can. And any food that was there was sure to be rotten after almost half a year.

  Speaking of rotten food, there was a large rectangular cake on the kitchen counter. Cockroaches crawled all over the moldy frosting. They scattered as soon as Amber shone her flashlight on it.

  All around Amber were reminders of a world long gone. The time of parties and get-togethers were over. People were too busy trying to stay alive. Other human beings were a liability, a danger.

  Amber didn’t even bother with checking the fridge. Instead she moved on to one of the three cupboards in the large kitchen. There were things like boxes of cereal and crackers that she and Mack could eat.

  On the floor of the cupboard, Amber found what she was looking for. Still wrapped in a cocoon of plastic wrapping were bottles of water. The once abundant supply of H20 in a bottle had become scarce and precious in the months since the outbreak. And Amber just hit the mother lode.

  The water was heavy but Amber managed to lift it up. She dropped it on the counter. It made a rather loud noise that got the attention of her big Viking protector.

  “Amber!?” yelled Mack from upstairs. Sound carried in the open design of the house.

  “I’m fine!” yelled Amber in response.

  Amber moved on. She left the kitchen and went into what was previously an office or study. There were piles of mail and other papers on top of a dusty desk. What she gravitated to were the framed pictures.

  She picked up one of the photos and shined her flashlight on it, revealing a young family. There was a man with glasses who looked to be in his mid-thirties, and next to him was his wife of a similar age. Between and in front of them was a little boy.

  Hope you had it better than me, kid. Amber put down the framed picture. She plopped down in the rolling computer chair behind the desk. A cloud of dust rose up, displaced by the sudden introduction of her weight.

  Amber went through the drawers of the desk in front of her. They were mostly filled with bills, envelopes, writing utensils and office supplies. The only things of interest that she found were batteries that were compatible with her flashlight.

  As she rose from the computer chair in the office, Amber heard the screeches of meat puppets. She turned and looked outside the sliding glass door that separated the study from the backyard. At first she didn’t see anything. Then she saw what looked to be a pair of red glowing orbs near the back of the long yard.

  Concerned that she was looking at the eyes of a meat puppet, Amber got closer to the sliding glass door. Her eyes adjusted and she could see not only a human like silhouette around the eyes, but several more pairs of them. She jumped and barely managed to swallow her scream as a decayed bearded face appeared, inches away from the other side of the glass.

  Fuck! Just as I was starting to like this place. Amber slowly backed up towards the back of the office. The teen was enveloped by the shadows of the room.

  ***

  Mack made his way upstairs. He kept his rifle aimed in front of him. In case anything jumped out at him he’d be able to blow them away without a problem. Even if he couldn’t, it gave him some piece of mind.

  Much like the ground floor, the second story of the house was very open. There weren’t many walls that separated rooms. In fact the only one with a door was the bathroom.

  What the hell did these people have against privacy? I couldn’t live like this. He slowly explored the second floor. The first two rooms he searched were bedrooms.

  There were no clothes strewn about or piled on the bed of the first bedroom Mack entered. All the drawers were closed. Nothing in the room was out of place. This reinforced the idea that whoever lived there left in a hurry. It resulted in an unavoidable sense of dread.

  This isn’t a home. It’s a tomb. Mack moved on to the second bedroom. From the playful wallpaper and toys, it was clear that the room was meant for a child. Much like the previous one, nothing was out of place.

  Mack found nothing of use on the second floor. All there was were useless relics of a world long passed. He thought about how much money and thought was put into decorating the home. He thought about what a waste it was.

  The stairs to the third floor were a bit unusual. They didn’t really fit with the design of the rest of the house. Naturally that juxtaposition made him curious.

  In the middle of a hallway on the second floor was a narrow black metal spiral staircase. It led up to a hole in the ceiling that separated the two levels. And there was an awful smell that Mack knew all too well at that point: death.

  Bad idea. What do you think you’re going to find up there? Mack was about to start up the spiral staircase when he heard a loud bang from the ground floor. Amber?

  “Amber!?” yelled Mack. He hurried over to a ledge on the second floor, waiting for a response from his teenage charge.

  “I’m fine!” yelled Amber in response.

  Maybe something doesn’t want you to go up there. Then again, when have you ever truly listened to reason? He returned to the spiral staircase.

  The horrendous smell only got more pungent as Mack ascended the winding stairs. But he didn’t turn back. There was a chance that he might stay in the house for the night with Amber. If that was going to happen he had to make sure the place was safe. That meant no meat puppets.

  There were no lights on the third floor. Nor were there rooms. It looked more like an attic or a storage space. On the farthest wall there were windows which must have lit up the floor on a sunny day. The moon provided just enough light for Mack to navigate. He maneuvered around stacks of boxes and random pieces of furniture. Despite stumbling a couple times, it was relatively easy to get around. Then he saw something near one of the windows.

  Mack raised his hunting rifle. Barely lit by moonlight, he saw a dark shadow under one of the windows. It looked like a person slumped over, leaning against the wall.

  A meat puppet? Mack quietly moved closer to the body. He had to lift the collar of his shirt over his nose. Still, the smell was overwhelming. It took substantial willpower not only to keep going but not to throw up.

  How long was this guy up here? Mack looked down at a dead man under the window. His clothes were dirty and full of holes. The sorry state of his attire combined with his general dirtiness indicated that the man was some sort of drifter. The man was clearly dead. His mouth hung open, and the back of his head was a bloody mess. In one of his hands was a large caliber revolver. It didn’t take a detective to figure out that the man shot himself.

  Poor bastard. Mack stared at the dead drifter for a minute. Then his attention turned to the gun in the corpse’s hand. It couldn’t hurt to have one more weapon.

  As Mack wrenched the gun out of the dead man's fingers, he heard a screech. It came from outside. He quickly looked out the window.

  We can’t get away from these fucking things, can we? In the dark woods outside the house were numerous sets of glowing eyes. Mack put his newly acquired revolver into the waist of his pants. He hurried through the rubbish of the third floor to the spiral staircase.

  Mack was in such a hurry and panic that he tripped while descending the steps. Even though he took some bumps and bruises, he was okay. Without skipping a beat he got up and ran for the stairs down to the ground floor. The big man moved with such speed that he almost seemed to glide down them.

  Through the small panes of glass that surrounded the front door, Mack saw more red eyes and shuffling silhouettes. It appeared that the whole house was surrounded. That didn’t matter. All that did was finding Amber.

  Amber and Mack met in the kitchen. Both of them were wide eyed. Adrenaline pumped through their veins, supercharging their senses.

  “What do we do? Do we fight them?” asked Amber. Her crossbow was at the ready.

  Mack frantically looked around. In every win
dow he saw meat puppets. “There’s too many of them.”

  “So what are we gonna do? We can’t stay here. They’ll eventually get in.”

  That’s a great question. What did we originally come to this town for? “A garage! Did you see a garage?”

  “I don’t think so. There might’ve been a garage. But I don’t think there’s any way to get there from in here.”

  Mack had a choice to make. Do they hold up in the house where there weren’t many places to hide? Or did they take their chances outside searching for a garage that may or may not be there.

  Mack came to his decision. “We go out and look for the garage.” He silently prayed to himself that it was the right one.

  “There’s a sliding door in the office,” said Amber. She led the way into the aforementioned study.

  Outside of the sliding glass door were meat puppets. But none of them were that close. If they moved quickly and quiet enough, they might be able to sneak by.

  Mack led the way. He’d try to avoid using his guns. It would be up to Amber to down meat puppets with her crossbow, if necessary.

  Carefully, Mack slid open the sliding door in the office. It wasn't completely silent, but quiet enough not to get any of the meat puppets’ attention. The fact that it started snowing heavily didn’t hurt. A thick blanket of white served as camouflage for the duo as they crept around the perimeter of the house.

  Before coming to Colorado, Amber had never seen snow before. Sure she saw some on television and in movies, but never in person. Outside the house in Hidden Valley she was witness to a surreal scene.

  The snow not only hid Amber and Mack but did the same for the meat puppets. All they could see were the creatures’ eyes, floating in a sea of white. It would’ve been beautiful in an eerie sort of way; if not for the fact that the owners of those eyes would rip them apart if they saw them.

  On the side of the house was a garage. It wasn’t attached to the home but was a separate structure all its own. And it was surrounded by the puppets. There was no way in other than through them.

  We better make this quick. Mack rose up. He aimed his hunting rifle at the puppet closest to the door to the garage.

  There was a loud crack as Mack fired. His aim was true and downed his intended target. As he worked the bolt action of the firearm, the whole area was filled with meat puppet screeches. In a matter of seconds they started descending upon him and Amber.

  “Move!” yelled Mack as he shot another puppet. Amber followed, using her crossbow to take down anything that got too close. The problem was both of them were using single shot weapons. And there were too many puppets.

  Mack ended up having to use the butt of his hunting rifle to try and clear a path to the garage. Amber did the same. Before getting overwhelmed, the former took his new revolver out of his waist band.

  There were only three bullets in the revolver. But that was enough to get him and Amber to the door of the garage. He was relieved when he turned the handle and found it unlocked. Inside there were two luxury vehicles. One was a truck, the other a sedan. It was an easy choice as to which one to go with.

  “Keys! Find some key!” yelled Mack as he held the door to the garage closed from the inside. The undead outside banged on it, trying to get to the fresh meat on the other side.

  “Keys? Fuck that,” said Amber. She ran over to the truck, and with the butt of her crossbow she broke the driver’s side window. Then she reached in and opened the door. “C’mon!”

  Mack took his weight off the door to the garage and ran over to the large vehicle. Amber climbed into the passenger seat. He got into the driver’s side.

  Finally a break. The truck had a push button ignition. He didn’t need keys to start. Nor did he have to try and hot wire the vehicle. With a roar that echoed throughout the garage, the engine came to life.

  The door to the garage burst open. Snow covered meat puppets came rushing at the four-wheel drive. Mack didn’t have a window on his side to protect him.

  “What are we going to do?” asked Amber. After asking she put her hand on Mack’s chest and got him to lean back in his seat. She shot a bolt, inches past his face, into one of the meat puppet’s head.

  “Hold on!” Mack proceeded to slam his foot down on the accelerator. The truck sped forward and crashed through the closed sheet metal garage door in front of them. Acting like of all things, a snow plow, the dislodged door gathered meat puppets until Mack took a sharp turn down the driveway.

  Amber and Mack felt the tires on the truck try their best to keep a grip on the snow covered driveway. They slid but never lost control. While driving, Mack felt cold wind and snow hit his face from his missing window.

  There were no attempts not to hit meat puppets on Mack’s way down the driveway and into the streets on Hidden Valley. Some made a wet meat sound as they met the front grill. Others made a clanging sound as the metal parts of their body hit the chrome of the wheel rims.

  Mack slid the truck into the street and drove as fast as he could while staying in control of the vehicle. Their arrival in Hidden Valley unleashed all hell in the town. The sleepy abandoned village was actually populated by meat puppets. They came out of windows and bushes. Many of them shuffled out of the woods. There were even some that rose out of snowbanks. Everywhere Mack and Amber looked the undead roamed.

  All Mack wanted was a way out of Hidden Valley, but there weren’t many options. Due to its location and insignificant size, the town only had one way in and one way out. And two infected moose stood in their way.

  Moose were imposing animals while they were still alive and uninfected. They had two large racks of sharp horns on their heads. Some weighed up to and in excess of two thousand pounds. And most people aren’t aware of the fact that they had bad tempers.

  Amber and Mack were looking out the front windshield of the truck and through the blizzard at two very big, and very angry looking moose. To make matters worse, they appeared to have been meat puppets for a while. Like the bear at the rodeo arena, the two animals were almost more machine than mammal.

  Imagine a one ton mass of rotting flesh, metal stronger than steel and reinforced bone. Add to that glowing red eyes and a desire to do nothing but kill. All that culminates to an absolute nightmare. Those nightmares were preparing to charge.

  “A full grown adult moose can grow up to two thousand pounds. It can run at upwards of thirty five miles per hour. At that weight and speed, getting hit by a charging moose would be like getting hit by car. The damage would be catastrophic.” A snippet from a nature program that Mack had seen years earlier flashed through his mind.

  The beams from the truck’s headlights lit up the horns atop the mooses’ heads. They had turned to metal. When Mack saw that particularly scary feature of theirs, he involuntarily stomped on the brake pedal. The truck slid then fishtailed on the snowy road. They both gritted their teeth and tensed up their bodies. There were woods on either side of the street. It was only through sheer luck that they didn’t slam into a tree, but instead the back wheels fell into a ditch.

  “What’s wrong? Why aren’t we moving?” Amber was trying not to panic but it was getting harder. The two meat puppet moose were charging at them.

  Even though Mack was flooring it, the truck wasn’t making any forward progress. Instead it swayed left-to-right. The tires spun but couldn’t get enough traction to propel the vehicle forward.

  “I’m trying!”

  “Why’d you even stop? We could’ve run those things over!”

  “Look at them, girl. Those aren’t some deer that might roll up on the hood. Those are full grown bull moose. We hit them and our ride would’ve been totaled. And we would’ve been screwed.”

  “Screwed is exactly what we are.”

  Mack looked over at the moose. They were seconds away from colliding with the truck, horns first. “Brace yourself!”

  “Wha…?” Before Amber could finish speaking, the first moose rammed its horns into the side of the t
ruck bed. The horns tore through the steel and were followed by the full brunt of the moose’s charge which dislodged the vehicle from the ditch.

  Mack had no time to react. The second moose was coming for his side of the truck. He closed his eyes and prepared for the pain. But it never came. Instead he and Amber’s heads’ and bodies whipped from side to side from the impact. When he looked down he saw one of the moose’s set of horns just above his thighs. Thank god.

  After charging at the truck, both moose backed up, retracting their horns from the metal of the vehicle. Then they got ready to do it again. Mack had no intention of letting that happen, for their ride would be lost. The prospect of walking out of the Rockies was enough to spur him into action.

  With a sharp turn of the wheel and a generous amount of acceleration, Mack and Amber’s truck once again started down the road. Its tires had to work hard but they found their grip. And the duo was on their way out of Hidden Valley.

  Amber looked in the rearview mirror and watched as the moose chased after them. It didn’t take long before they were just more red eyes floating in white. In a weird way it was a beautiful sight.

  Chapter 9: American Desert

  Beautiful, just beautiful. Mack stared out the front windshield of the truck at the sun, watching as it rose over the mountain ranges in the Mojave Desert. The color was striking. Different hues of blue, yellow, orange and red made the sky look like it was painted. Below it was the elegant desert of Nevada.

  Wind blew into Mack’s face from his broken driver’s side window. But he didn’t mind. If anything he kind of liked it. While it wasn’t hot or even all that warm, sixty degrees was a lot nicer than the frigid temperatures of the Rocky Mountains in February. And if he never saw a flake of snow again for as long as he lived, that wouldn’t be long enough.

  When he was younger, Mack always loved movies that took place in the wide expanse between Utah and California known as Nevada. There was something romantic about the endless horizons and rocky formations. Even though the state had been well explored and populated before the outbreak, it had an air of the frontier about it. It was wild and unconquered by strip malls and cookie cutter suburbs.