Flirting With Death: Surviving The Infected

by Boyd Craven III

  “This was done to us on purpose and the vaccine...” Franks voice trailed off. “It wasn't a good thing; it was rushed, or sabotaged.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Sarah wasn't messing around, the infected are everywhere, and they aren't the ones with Ebola.”

  “Infected?”

  “We have a lot to talk about, Jim. Try to avoid going to town. It's probably spread that far already.”

  “I don't know. This is a lot to take in.”

  “You're still not there are you?”

  “No, I'm parked, about a mile away.”

  “Good. I mean, you have plenty of stuff up there in the cabin, right?”

  “For a while, yeah. How about you and Katherine? You two doing OK?”

  “Yeah, we are holed up in the basement. I sort of built a panic room; Sarah's wearing out the DVDs and sleeping a ton, and Kath is just... The hospital is trying to get her to come back, even though she's been retired for years. I won't let her...”

  “I don't think that's a good idea considering...” I told him.

  “If you do go into town for anything...?” Frank asked.

  “Yeah?”

  “Tylenol or ibuprofen and any antibiotics you can get your hands on.”

  “You need a prescription for antibiotics, Frank.”

  “I know, but if things are bad...”

  I missed the rest of what he was saying as a movement on the drivers' side caught my eye. I looked on in horror as a group of people had quietly moved within sight range of the Jeep out of the woods, approaching faster than I could believe. Their faces were gore streaked, their movements jerky. A woman who was running in front of the group fell, and the few behind them fell on her, ripping her flesh in long strips. I almost lost the contents of my stomach as they stuffed strips of torn flesh into their mouths, her shrieks chilling my bones. I panicked and hit the gas, uttering curses.

  I had no room to turn around and, when I looked in my rear view mirror, another had moved in behind me, the people almost sexless as the gore and dirt on their clothing, skin and hair obscured most of them. The stench hit me a second later and, realizing I couldn't turn around or go back yet, I went forward, into town. No matter how bad the smell of their unwashed bodies were, I kept the windows rolled up, making sure all the doors were locked and desperately looking for somewhere that I could turn around. Within seconds, I could see shambling forms on both sides of the streets.

  Chapter 9 – East Jordan

  September 25th, 2015

  I heard Frank's voice finally, and found the cell phone I had dropped, and heard whimpering. After a moment, I realized it was myself and tried to answer him, my voice shaking.

  “Jim, are you OK?”

  “Yes, my god, it's all true. Holy shit Frank, they are zombies.”

  “They have some form of mutated virus from the vaccine,” he told me softly, almost correcting me like my third grade teacher.

  “I saw a woman eaten!”

  “I hear wind, are you driving?”

  “Yes, I was surrounded. I'm heading towards town, looking for somewhere to turn around.”

  “Shit, let me think.”

  “I don't have time Frank...”

  “You armed?”

  “I have my arms.” I replied, confused, my brain shutting down in the terror.

  “No, guns. You have a gun?”

  “Your .44”

  “Shit, that's not enough. Get out of there as soon as you can. You still on 66?” he asked, referring to the main road running out of town towards the cabin.

  “Yeah.”

  “Shit. I hate to ask, but there's a Rite Aid in town, and it's got a big parking lot...”

  “What are you asking me, Frank?”

  “Antibiotics?”

  “Frank, there's no time for this.”

  “Damn. OK, early reports say a heavy dose of Cipro can disrupt the infection if taken within an hour of being bitten. Anything later than that...”

  “Oh shit, Frank. Oh shit.” A shrieking form ran out in front of the Jeep as I came into town proper.

  I tried to swerve, I tried to do everything in my power not to hit the figure, but it literally ran in front of my grill as I tried to speed to the other lane. A dull thump and a red spray hit the windshield before the back tires lifted and thumped back to the ground in an obscene burnout.

  “You OK?”

  “I just hit something,” I panted.

  “Flat tire?”

  “No.”

  “Get the Cipro if you can, if not, get back to the cabin. The three of us will be up there as soon as we can. The binder has...” and my fucking cell phone made that obscene sound it does when the battery dies and the phone shut off.

  I threw it away in disgust. Shambling forms were all around me as I sped through the first blocks of downtown, and saw the Rite Aid coming up in a big damn hurry. Either luckily or not, it was one of the first businesses and buildings coming into town. Shit. I had to do this; it might make a difference someday. I ran over the curb and the sculpted landscaping and ended up sideways near the entrance of the pharmacy. I grabbed the pistol off the seat next to me and took a deep breath.

  Was I going to do this? I killed the ignition and left the keys in it. I had to do this. I patted my pockets making sure the extra cartridges and speed loaders were still there, then opened the door like the gates of hell had been unleashed and my ass was on fire. I hit the door at a run and almost knocked myself out. It was locked, and I felt my nose, wiping blood away from mashing it into glass. Shit, I was waiting for the automatic doors to have opened. I looked at the pistol, thinking of shooting the glass of the door, but smiled to myself.

  It was an obscenely large and phallic symbol, one used to intimidate and scare off hoodlums from every Dirty Harry movie in my parents’ youth. I swung my fist with the gun and watched in satisfaction as the safety glass shattered. I heard a siren start going off and almost stopped in dead fear, looking around. Even with the lights out, the sound of the alarm would draw the attention of everything in the area. Luckily it shut off after ten seconds.

  There were zombies shambling towards me, but the majority of them had met me out of town, like they had heard my Jeep's muffler and all had been trying to cut me off before I could even get close... For once, things were working in my favor and I rushed inside, grabbing a couple of red baskets normally used by housewives who only wanted to buy a couple things. The locked door had me hopeful that the store was empty so I immediately rushed towards the back. There was a half door that separated the customers from the pharmacy, so I vaulted it and tried to look at the shelves full of white bottles in the dark.

  I couldn't make out shit. It was too dark. I almost died of panic, but jumped over the counter and headed to the house wares section, finding what I wanted almost immediately, holstering the pistol. I ripped open the flashlight and popped the two batteries in it that came in the plastic blister pack. Immediately, the LED flashlight lit up the back of the pharmacy and the industrial sized white bottles of medicine filled my vision. Cipro, that was what I remembered and I sent a worried glance over my back shoulder.

  I was praying for luck, and listening intently when my eyes randomly stopped on two large white bottles labeled ciprofloxacin.

  “This must be it.” I said quietly, pulling them off the shelf and tried to quietly put them in the basket when I heard glass crunch behind me, in the vicinity of the front door. I immediately dropped down under the counter and looked for a back door; there was always a back door wasn't there? I asked myself. I crawled towards a naturally lighted area, the drive through window, when I came across another large white bottle that caught my attention: clindomyacin.

  I put that one in the basket too and explored the back of the store as I could hear a couple of somebodies moving through the store. It must have been some of the infected, because they let out an inhuman moaning noise that set my hair on end. With the alarms off, I could tell that t
heir shuffling gait was bringing them closer to the back of the store and I still couldn't find a way out. Things went silent, and I froze.

  A sickly sweet odor came to me, almost like meat gone bad, but not quite as repugnant. I resisted gagging and tried to breathe through my mouth only, listening, listening intently. Nothing; no moans, no more shuffling footsteps, just the smell. Resisting wiping a trickle of fear sweat off my forehead, I waited and waited. I considered that I had dreamed the sounds, and now that I was trying to, I couldn't make out the smell any more either. Had all of this been a bad dream? I asked myself.

  Slowly, I rose up, keeping one of the pharmacy shelves holding the bulk medicines between the front of the store and myself. What hadn't been in the plan was silhouetting myself in front of the drive through window. Scab and pus covered hands started banging on the glass and I turned, startled out of my wits as I saw at least ten people, all sick or infected with something. I would love to say I didn't scream out loud, but they startled me and I cursed for a long moment until I heard something slap on the ground about ten feet behind me, right next to the back of the pharmacy counter.

  Peeking around the corner, I saw an infected lift its nose like a dog and sniff the air, tasting it for my scent. I could see its eyes, almost pus yellow, and fought the urge to scream again. Moving quickly over two shelves when it was looking the other way, I looked again. It was walking down the aisle way that I had first entered the back, where I found the Cipro.

  “Now or never,” I told myself, exploding into a run and clearing the counter.

  I wasn't an athlete by any means, but having every horror movie and video game of my youth suddenly come alive and in my face, I found the needed dexterity to become amazing... Until I ran headfirst into the chest of a large infected, falling down. We didn't land in a tangle, and because of my speed I had bowled the man over, and luckily was able to roll to my feet without losing much time. I looked at the basket and saw that I had lost two bottles. Panicked I looked at the zombie.

  It looked around, confused for a moment before trying to roll over and get its hands under it to right itself. I had a moment or two of grace if I could just find... The two bottles were closer to the front door than I was, so I ran towards both salvation and the medicine, grabbing them on the way. I looked out the main door and was relieved that the parking lot was relatively clear, but there was a big congregation of bodies trying to hit the back of the store.

  “Shit! The drive through window.” I thought to myself as I got out of the dark building as quick as I could, getting my happy ass in the car. For a moment I couldn't find my keys, I patted my pockets, my hoody pocket, even checked the center counsel. Thinking I was doomed, I put my head down on the steering wheel a moment when I saw them dangling from the ignition. With a roar, my Jeep started and I tore out of the parking lot, and headed back towards the outskirts of town.

  Surprisingly, the area was even more empty of the infected than it was before and, knowing I'd need to call Frank soon, I plugged my phone into the car charger. I looked at the passenger seat, at the white pharmacy bottles in my looted Rite Aid basket and wondered if they were worth it. Was any of this worth it? How far out in the woods did the zombies travel? How long would I be safe? The other thing that scared me, was I still could use my cell, and the alarm in the store proved that the electrical grid was still working, but for how long? How long until the gas pumps quit pumping, how long until I couldn't reach Frank and Katherine? They were the only family I had left, and I worried, worried deeply.

  I glanced in the rear view mirror, perhaps looking at town for the last time when I saw a sight that chilled my blood. A young woman was running as if her life depended on it, and it did. She had half a dozen of the infected chasing after her. Slamming on the brakes, I looked around; the infected were everywhere, but not in the numbers I saw coming into town. The closest of them were half a minute away. I could spare half that. I beeped my horn as I rolled down the window.

  “Jump on the back, hold the tire.” I screamed.

  She peeled off from the group and made a beeline towards me, and the swarm of infected followed suit. I didn't have time to stay standing still, but if she could jump on the bumper while I was rolling, I wouldn't have to leave her in the dust. I checked my rear view for her, and she was closing fast.

  “Hurry,” I murmured to myself.

  When she was within twenty feet, I started rolling slowly.

  “Hurry,” I shouted.

  I felt the back end squat down hard as her weight hit and I slowly accelerated faster, hoping she could hold on. There's one thing about cars that I noticed, you can cover a ton of ground in a hurry if you need to, and not put the pedal to the metal. We outstripped the infected within a minute or two, and I needed to figure out who she was, and if I needed to worry. I pulled the .44 as I slowed and pulled off onto the shoulder of the road, not seeing anybody else nearby.

  I saw as well as felt her hop off the bumper as I eased out of the Jeep, trying to keep the distance between us, the Ebola virus a very real fear to me.

  “Hey, you OK?” I asked her lamely.

  “I am now, thank you, thank you,” She said walking towards me, but I held the gun up chest height.

  “Please don't. I really don't...”

  “I'm not infected. I promise you. I've been hiding out since last night and when I heard your car...

  “Have you been... uh, bitten?” I asked her, not knowing how the infection was spread, but many numerous nights of COD were fresh in my mind, along with about every zombie movie - especially 28 Days Later - flashing through my head.

  “No, no I haven't. I went into town, and had to bail out by the grocery store. I didn't believe the news and...” she broke down in tears.

  I'm a guy, and I gave her the usual guy once over. She was pretty, but she was probably at least ten years older than me, her figure more muscular than curvy, wavy brown hair that framed an elfin face, her hands thick with callous as she had them raised in a don't shoot gesture. Embarrassed, I lowered the Dirty Harry cannon, unable to watch a lady cry.

  “I have to get back to my son...” she said after a moment, wiping her nose.

  “OK, hop in the passenger’s side, let’s go before more of them come. I'm Jim, by the way.”

  “Oh, thank you Jim. I'm Claire, Claire Woods.”

  I smiled, for as bad as today had turned out, I was able to do something good after all.

  Chapter 10 – Reunion and Preps

  September 25th, 2015

  I had an uneventful trip to the Woods household, other than Claire almost bursting into tears twice in the moments it took me to get there. Reassuring her that her son was fine an hour ago, she was grateful that I found her.

  “I need to make a phone call, and this is about as close to town as I get a signal,” I told her, turning my phone on as she was stepping out of the passenger side.

  “Thank you again Jim, looks like my buddy was worried,” she nodded to her son who was almost tripping over his own feet in a rush to get to the Jeep.

  “You found her!”

  “Yeah, or she found me, either way...”

  Claire embraced her son fiercely, almost squeezing the blood out of him, and then shut the door. She gave me a small wave and I gave her a nod, checking to see if my phone was on, which it was. I tried Frank's number right away, and it rang into voice mail. I left him a message that I was OK and that my phone died. I'd try to call three days from now at the same time as I did today, and would continue every three days until I got a hold of them. If he couldn't make the phone call, I told him to send me a text message like he did before and I'd answer when I could get a signal.

  “Thanks again, Jim. I hope your family makes it up here OK,” she said, hugging her kiddo as they turned and started walking into the house.

  I smiled absently, and took off again. Maybe the zombies didn't come this far out into the woods?

  Once I got back to the cabin, I set a pot of b
eans to boil, and sat down to think. This morning was almost too much to process all at once. How quickly had I accepted the fact that zombies were roaming the earth? It was unreal. Sarah's text message had left me conflicted and wondering if this was all a joke, but seeing them acting just like every movie or video game had me instantly convinced. The infected woman getting devoured by the group when she fell... I shuddered at the memory.

  I did score the Cipro, and hoped the other stuff I got would help as well. I didn't know how full the bottles were, but I prayed it would never be needed. I never wanted to see anybody I knew turned. The images of the sloughing flesh, the sickly sweet smell and the wounds that never healed; they just festered and rotted by the look of them. Frank's words that the Ebola was weaponized made me wonder; was the vaccine tampered with? I hadn't heard of the CDC or the FDA pushing a new vaccine through so quickly and, if one was found, how could any drug company make it in enough quantity to distribute it quickly? Why was the infection so virulent?

  I stood, feeling restless, and went and got Frank's binder out. I knew it had nothing in it about a zombie apocalypse, but he did have inventory lists and instructions on the cabin. I paged through it absent mindedly, but my brain was still running a mile a minute. How long would the propane last? How long did it take a normal human to travel from town to the cabin? A day? I looked to the wood stove and wondered how much wood I'd need for the winter, or how I could keep my phone charged until my next call with the Andersens.

  I smacked my forehead and went into the larger bedroom and looked underneath the bed, finding the flat tote immediately. I pulled it out and set it on the bed, sitting beside it. Its weight was surprising, but as soon as I cracked open the split lid, I saw a small flexible solar cell with various cords, just like Frank had told me. The rest of the tote had me scratching my head. It was a mixture of Roman candle fireworks, glow sticks, road flares and some of the larger firecrackers. I dug through the packages of items confused and, when I found three dozen rat traps and some spools of heavy fishing line and a spool of speaker wire, my brows pinched together in concentration.