Flirting With Death: Surviving The Infected

by Boyd Craven III

  The store was oddly packed, and folks were acting nervous or worried. I chalked it up to being a bad day or something, and went about my shopping. In one aisle, I noticed all the cases of bottled water were completely gone, while there were a few jugs of gallon sizes. Two women were arguing over a case of water at the end of the aisle and words became harsh, the inner bitch coming out in both of their voices, but they were still too far away for me to make out specific words.

  Not wanting my eyes scratched out, I headed back down to the baking aisle. There I stocked up on more rice, beans, and two 25lb bags of flour and some brown sugar. If nothing else, I could leave the cabin stocked well for Frank, in thanks for helping me get away. And that’s when it hit me. I hadn’t thought of Janie much yet today. My heart twinged, but part of me also recognized that I would always hurt for her; I would always feel that loss. I promised myself to take Sarah’s advice and keep on living. I still had no clue how to go about that though.

  As I was getting ready to checkout, I ran across the two ladies who had been arguing over the water earlier. They were still bitching back and forth, but I kept hearing the words “Ebola… pandemic… virus… vaccine…”. My blood ran cold and I left my cart for a second to go to the front of the store to grab a newspaper. The headlines scared the hell out of me.

  27 confirmed deaths and 397 confirmed cases of Ebola hit Los Angeles. WHO and CDC recommending massive quarantine, state government threatening Law.

  I remembered hearing about the cases from Africa and the miracle ‘cure’ or ‘vaccine’ that one of the big pharmaceutical companies had been spouting off about on in the news lately. I hurried back to my cart as somebody was looking inside it and looking side to side. They were going to steal the groceries I just shopped for? Really?

  “Hey, thanks for looking after my cart.” I told the lady, getting a closer look at her.

  “Uh, yeah, no problem. Hey, are you going to eat those…?” Her hand darted into the cart and without thinking I playfully swatted it out of the way. She gave me a hurt look.

  “What is going on here?” I asked her, noting that she was a slender mid thirties woman with chestnut hair and curves filling out all the right places.

  In another life, I would have found her darkly attractive but the frightened look in her eyes canceled all of that and she looked like she was almost ready to wet her pants.

  “The Ebola virus has everyone freaked out Why did you hit me?”

  “I didn’t hit you, I swatted your hand. Do your own shopping!” I reprimanded her playfully and for the first time she smiled.

  “I think I will. Listen, if I were you, I’d fill up your gas tanks and lay low for a while.” She murmured.

  I glanced at the newspaper and wondered if she was correct. The entire front page was dedicated to the outbreak. Knowing my Jeep was already full, I pondered the four gas tanks that had been in the automotive section on the bottom shelf. I circled back around and left the pretty lady near the checkout lines to get the tanks.

  Only two were left, and I grabbed both and headed back up front. As I neared I could hear an argument. The pretty lady was bitching at the cashier that she had plenty of money on her card, that her machine was probably broken. I had to wince in sympathy. The cashier said something low and pointed to the ATM and her customer stomped off. Since that was the only line open, I quickly put everything up on the counter, thankful I still had some cash left.

  “See, I told you it worked!” The woman shouted from over near the ATM machine.

  I had to get out of here, and was only too happy to get my change and head out to my Jeep to load everything up. I hit the gas station across the street without any problems and while I was filling the two five gallon tanks, I figured I might as well call Frank and check in.

  “Hey Jim, you doing OK?”

  “Yeah Frank, how are you guys doing?”

  “Day by day. Katherine is still waking up with nightmares, and Sarah is still acting like…”

  “A pain in the ass?” I cut in.

  “Sarah.” He finished his thought with a laugh.

  “I’ll bet. Hey, the fishing was something fantastic this morning.”

  “Oh yeah? What’d you get?”

  “A Laker, on my first cast!” I told him proudly.

  “Nobody fishes that lake; I’m surprised they didn’t jump into your hand the minute you walked out onto the dock.”

  I smiled at the thought, wondering if the newspaper and the nervous tone of the grocery store was just an isolated incident up here. Too many folks drinking the secret sauce?

  “Hey, something interesting happened at the grocery store, folks are freaked out about an Ebola outbreak…”

  “They were, well some probably still are, but the CDC came on the news today announcing a new vaccine and treatment. Apparently it’s been going through the testing phases with the FDA and they’ve been able to treat about half of the folks who are in the early stages of Ebola.”

  “Wow. A lot has happened in the last couple of days,” I mused.

  “It’s been happening for the last week and a half, Jim. You were just… busy,” Frank said softly, and I appreciated the fact he said it without poking fun at me.

  I already felt guilty enough for not thinking of Janie as much this morning while I kept myself preoccupied, but wasn’t that the point? For me to get my brain going on other things so my psyche could heal?

  “Yeah, yeah I was. It was just kind of creepy in the store though.”

  “People panic easily. Phone at the cabin still out?”

  “I think so; I came into town so I could have an excuse to charge my phone up a bit.”

  “Makes sense. Hey, under the queen sized mattress is a flat Rubbermaid tote. I think I have one of those low wattage solar chargers for keeping batteries topped off. I think I have a cell phone adapter for it. You’re welcome to use it if you think it’d help.”

  “Sounds great, save a little bit of gas,” I joked.

  “Listen Jim, it wouldn’t be a bad idea for you to lay low for a few days up there. I know you probably won’t have any reception, but how about this coming Friday, a week from now, you sneak back towards town until you get a signal and call me?”

  “Sneak into town?”

  “Not in town, towards it, just until you get a signal.”

  “That sounds…”

  “Paranoid, I know. If things get ugly, the cabin is where we all planned to ‘Bug Out’ to. I hope this vaccine works the way they say it does though.”

  “Hey, why so doom and gloom?”

  “I watched one too many Discovery Channel shows I guess.”

  Then we were laughing together on the phone. I could hear a quiet murmur in the background and could barely make out Katherine’s voice, questioning Frank.

  “Ok Jim, I have to go. Talk to you in a week’s time if I don't see you first.”

  “Ok, see ya.” I hung up the phone and put the gas tanks in the back of the Jeep and started the trek home, wondering if I should read the newspaper I bought, or if I should just burn it.

  If Frank wasn’t worried about anything, should I be?

  Chapter 7 – Friday

  September 25th, 2015

  I awoke with a start; my night time had been dreamless for once. I took that as a good sign and went to the doorway where I had already placed the fishing rod and tackle box. It seemed silly to take it back to the shed every day when I had a routine down now. I’d get up, catch something for breakfast, pan fry it, do my dishes and go hiking in the woods. I wasn’t sure who owned the land surrounding the cabin, and for all I knew it could be Frank and Katherine’s, but it sure was beautiful.

  The lake sat low between two ridges, so the mist was always thick in the morning, burning off by 10am or so as the sun’s rays broke through the dense foliage. On another set of small hills about fifteen minutes to the west of the cabin was a grouping of oak trees. It was here that I would sit in solitude and watch the mist burn off
the morning air. As far as metaphors went, the mist was a good one, and it had been helping me.

  In the early morning, everything was hazy, obscured and hard to make out, just like my emotions regarding Janie. Somewhere in the mist, I had to forgive myself; I had to mourn for the loss of a baby I never got to meet. As the sun rose, it shone light into the darkest parts of the forest, and things became clear. I knew it wouldn’t be easy, but for three mornings in a row, I’d been making a go at it. I could see the problem, but that didn’t mean that with understanding that the pain went away, it just helped make it easier to bear.

  When the sun had finally burned away the mist, I was about to get up when a group of deer bounded between the high spots on the hill, picking their way between the trees intently until they were standing underneath the limbs of one of the larger oak trees. They started browsing through the fallen nuts and I had to marvel for a while.

  Apparently these guys had no fear of humans, as I was sitting not twenty feet away and was sure my scent had probably lingered on in the area from three days worth of pondering. They didn’t even startle away when I stood and made my way back to the cabin.

  Time was up, and it was time to call Frank. If I was going into town, I might as well be ready for some unpleasantness. Getting back into the cabin, I heated a pot of water for a hobo bath and walked into Frank’s bedroom. The gun safe was still there but, so far, I had resisted the urge to check out his guns. I know the urge was a guy thing, but it couldn’t be helped. Now, there was a perfectly plausible excuse and the key chain Frank gave me had a couple more keys on it that I hadn't used. Figuring one of them went to the double locks on the safe, I tried them.

  The second set of keys unlatched the locks, and I marveled at the size of the safe. It was almost 4’ wide by 6’ tall, much larger than the little one my grandpa had kept. Turning the handle, I was able to pull the heavy door open. I was a little bit surprised to notice that hunting rifles weren’t in abundance here. What looked like half a dozen AKs, four shotguns, two long guns with scopes and big mags and, somehow hanging off the inner door, a small collection of handguns with their respective holsters. Ammo was stacked along one side and I marveled at the amount, knowing that in reality, it wasn’t that much and the lion share of it was the 7.62x39 that the AKs ate.

  “Damn.” I muttered to myself. I was looking for a handgun, and the only one that looked like something I could use was an old school revolver.

  What looked like Glocks were hanging there, but I’d never shot one. A revolver was something I knew though, and I pulled a Dirty Hairy look alike out of the holster and spun the cylinder. I could see it wasn’t loaded and started looking for ammo. I found a box, but I also found two speed loaders already set up and put those into the pocket of my sweater, and a handful of cartridges into my pants pocket. There was a tooled leather holster, which I put on my belt before taking the pistol and feeding the fat .44 Magnum cartridges in.

  I couldn't help it; I walked into the half bath and closed the door, looking at my reflection in the mirror on the backside of the door. I looked like an absolute goofball. I was a little on the thin side, and my clothing choices made me look skeletal. My blue jeans and bulky hooded sweatshirt almost made me look like I was swimming in my clothes. I know I had been losing weight in the last couple of weeks, but that wasn't a huge worry for me; it was how the pistol looked that caught my attention. It looked normal on my hip. I shucked my clothing off in a corner and went to get the pot so I could wash up off the stove.

  ++++++++++++++++++++++++

  I was driving down the railroad tracks when I noticed the Turkey Buzzards circling in the distance. It wasn't unusual to see the birds, and it was usually a deer killed by a car that brought them out over the roadway, but never in this amount. They didn't look like they were over flying the town, which was my first worry, but seeing that many was unnerving. I slowed the Jeep and, although the fall was cool, I rolled down my window so I could listen. Every nerve ending was on high alert, and the hairs on the back of my neck stood at attention.

  My hearing returned slightly as I got off the railroad tracks, the sound of the tires loud enough to make hearing other things difficult. I turned off the Jeep a moment and listened. I heard silence, which in of itself wasn't that big of a deal, but I hadn't been up there long enough to know what was normal and, other than driving through town and coming back once, I had no clue what to expect. I looked at my phone, and didn't have signal. I had turned it off the last time I was using it, so it remained charged and I cradled it by my ear as I drove slowly, hoping to get signal before I got close to people.

  The last time I'd been in town, I was uncomfortable by the tone, the worry, about the virus. People had been acting strange in the general store, but after talking to Frank I hadn't been concerned, it seemed to just be people reacting to 'what ifs'. The buzzards though, that worried me. They usually indicated something dead. Two or three would circle a carcass until it was either ripe enough, or safe enough for them to feast upon. There must have been over a hundred floating on the thermals, so there must be a lot of corpses. A cold trickle of sweat traveled down my spine and I mentally shuddered as I creeped along the road.

  There was no point in delaying any longer; I started rolling faster, and just as I was about to cross the hill that overlooked town, my cell phone started dinging, as a flood of text messages came through. I slammed on the brakes and pulled to the side of the road. Most of them were from Frank, and a couple were from Sarah. My heart dropped as I started reading them. Things were bad. Really bad.

  Chapter 8 – A Disturbing Phone Call

  September 25th, 2015

  The virus had spread, and now something else was going on. Frank was going into what he called ‘lock down’ and would be turning his phone on in what I could tell would be about ten minutes. This was all conveyed in the first message, then periodic updates like “we're fine, see you soon.” The messages from Sarah chilled me to the bone.

  “Ebola killed thousands, maybe millions” was one, another read “CDC pushing through Ebola vaccine, maybe there's hope?” and one of the final ones that caught my attention was “zombies walk the earth; pray the three of us can join you soon.” My hands were shaking as I tried to go back to the main screen on my Galaxy, to fumble and try to find Frank’s phone number. I wasn't going to wait to try him in the eight minutes I had left until his phone came back on.

  Those buzzards had me freaked out, and if the Andersens were playing some elaborate prank on me, fine, they won. I was starting to get scared. Really scared. I pulled the .44 out of the holster and laid it across my lap, the cold weight of the gun comforting on my legs. I was about to hit send when somebody started rapping on the glass of the passenger window. I screamed and fumbled for the gun, as I kept my hand on the phone.

  A little boy was knocking, probably twelve or thirteen years old. I blew out a breath and dropped the pistol on the passenger seat and looked him over. He was a little tow-head, blonde hair, and blue eyes with a Justin Bieber type haircut that was all the rage.

  “Mister, do you know what's going on?” the boy asked loudly, his voice muffled by the glass of the window.

  “No, do you?”

  “No, you are the first car I've seen all day. My mom didn't come home from town last night, she was just going for groceries.”

  “What's the TV saying?” I asked him, hoping we both were hearing everything right, and smiling when I realized the passenger side door was locked.

  I had no idea if he was infected with Ebola or not - and zombies? Sarah was enough of a bitch to be messing with me, but I doubt Frank was. I hoped he wasn't anyways.

  “We don't have a TV; Mom says that it rots the brain. You really don't know what's going on?”

  “Nothing that makes sense. I'm going to head into town. What's your mom's name? I can ask about her if you want.”

  “Claire Woods,” he shouted back, looking down.

  I think he was consider
ing pulling on the door handle, joining me in the cab. I don't know if I'd like that or not, but with everything going from good to ultra creepy in the space of a week, I decided to get on the gas.

  “Kid, I'm gonna roll, I'll stop by here on my way back if I have any news.”

  “Oh... Ok.”

  I stomped on the gas, my nerves shot. The boy jumped back in surprise, but waved anyways. I hit send on the cell phone and it started ringing immediately. Frank picked up on the second ring and he sounded almost amused.

  “Jim, how are you doing?”

  “I'm OK, listen, I got your messages and I'm driving towards town...”

  “Don't go there. Stop somewhere safe.”

  “Well, I'm about a mile outside of town...”

  “Make sure your doors are locked, and if anybody approaches, get out of there.”

  “I will Frank. I will. Now, what the hell is going on? Sarah's text said something about zombies?”

  “Oh god, she shouldn't have said that. That isn't even close.”

  “Fill me in; I'm kind of in a mood here, man.”

  “It's worse, much worse. The Ebola Virus, well the CDC didn't have things controlled like they thought, and it had a couple more days to fester than anybody knew of.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked him.

  “I thought this started Monday, it was probably the previous Friday, because by Tuesday they were already starting to put out small batches of an Ebola Vaccine. That's when things went to shit in a big way.”

  “Holy...”

  “Yeah.”

  “How bad is it?”

  “The news is just running on a loop down here, but they declared Martial Law on Tuesday. Estimates are a 90% rate of death for those infected. The Ebola was weaponized Jim, somebody did this to us.”

  “What?”