Katelyn laughed. “I guess you could say that. Maybe one day out of my entire career could be like that. Every other day will be frustrating failures in the laboratory.” She looked at Jesse with a prolonged look. “But it would all be worth it to try and help save lives.”
Jesse was so transfixed by her eyes that he failed to see the street sign looming right in front of him. In an instant he walked right into it. A loud metallic “twang” echoed through the air as Jesse’s head smashed into it. He fell to his knees and clutched the side of his head in agony.
“Jesse! Are you okay?” She tried to stifle a giggle and show concern at the same time.
“Yeah, it’s a good thing I have a hard head,” Jesse moaned.
Katelyn grabbed his hand and helped him to his feet. He staggered a couple steps before shaking his head and announcing, “I’m all right. I’ll just have a bump there in the morning.” He looked down at his hand in Katelyn’s grip and blushed.
“You want me to let go?” Katelyn asked, smiling with both her eyes and her mouth.
“N-n-n-o. No. Please don’t,” Jesse stammered and grinned. “Let’s just go get our ice cream and pie.”
As the two of them walked the remaining two blocks to the parlor Katelyn noted the stumbling people that seemed to be milling around. “There sure are a lot of drunken people out for it being a weekday. I don’t understand.”
“Is that the place?” Jesse exclaimed, pointing to a large sign advertising a small ice cream shop.
“Yep, sure is!”
Jesse opened the glass door, causing a bell to tinkle, and followed Katelyn inside. The lights were on, and soft comforting music played from speakers mounted on the ceiling.
“Where is everybody?” Jesse asked. “There’s not even anybody at the counter.”
“I’m not sure…” Katelyn’s voice trailed off as she peered over the plastic cover and almost vomited. “Oh my!” She spun around and put her head between her legs.
“What’s wrong?” Jesse asked, puzzled. Katelyn pointed to the ice cream bins. Jesse glanced over and was horrified at the sight. Blood and what appeared to be muscle tissue was pooled up in the bin of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream. “Okay we are leaving right now.” He grabbed Katelyn’s upper arm and led her towards the front door.
Jesse had almost grabbed the handle when Katelyn let out a piercing scream and pointed out the window. A group of the seemingly drunk street marauders had grabbed hold of an elderly woman trying to get into her car. Jesse watched in horror as their hands and jaws ripped flesh from the unfortunate lady. All he could do was stand there in horror until suddenly one came around the corner and pressed its body against the outside door.
Startled, Jesse leaped backwards and cried, “Holy crap!”
“I’m not going out there!” Katelyn cried. “Let’s see if there is a back door!” She led the way behind the counter and past some supply rooms and offices. However after fruitless minutes of searching she realized it was in vain. They were trapped.
“Maybe there’s-“
“Behind you!” Katelyn screamed.
Jesse whirled around to see what he assumed was the former ice cream server at the counter, missing an arm and stumbling towards him. The creature lunged at Jesse and clawed at the air.
“Get back!” he shouted at Katelyn. Searching the office frantically for anything to use as a weapon he finally settled on a tall lamp isolated in the corner.
Jesse ripped the chord from the outlet and clutched the lamp in both hands, brandishing it like a spear. Odd, he thought. It has no fear! The hungry monster rushed at Jesse again and he swung the pole, landing it squarely on the man’s upper torso.
“It’s getting back up!” Katelyn exclaimed.
Jesse began systematically beating the putrid creature to keep it contained on the floor. The only thing that surprised him was that it kept trying to grab him, no matter how many times it was knocked to the floor.
The lamp post snapped and Jesse suddenly found himself weaponless. He frantically backed out of the room and towards the front counter where he found a stout broomstick hanging on a hook.
As his would be attacker approached Jesse again, he made a running leap at the deranged man and rammed the handle directly into the gaping mouth. The force of the handle drove it deep into the recess of the brain, slaying it instantly. It dropped to the ground and Jesse let out a sigh of relief.
“What the heck is going on?” he inquired loudly.
Katelyn didn’t respond. Instead she pointed towards the front of the parlor at the growing numbers of psychopaths outside the glass hungry for a literal Man-wich. She looked at Jesse and whimpered, “I’m scared. I don’t want to die.”
Jesse put a comforting arm around her and just stared at the ferocious scene in front of him. Nothing in his wildest dreams could have prepared him for this spectacle.
III
Kevin and Larissa's house
Franklin hurriedly scrambled backwards like a crab and regained his footing. Rapidly yanking his weapon out of his waistband, he shakily aimed the barrel towards the shadowy figure. He tried to shout a warning to Kevin, but only a whisper escaped as his lungs and throat closed up in fear.
After what seemed like an eternity, he finally managed to re-gain control of his vocal chords and bellowed, "Hold it right there!"
The figure ignored Franklin's order and lunged toward him again, grasping at his shirt. Franklin backpedaled through the open door, and shouted a second warning, while cocking the hammer back on his revolver. The figure followed him and shuffled out the door into the light.
Franklin watched as the mangled raccoon fell out of its jaws. Bits of flesh and fur remained stuck to the bloody figure's face. It was a man...or what remained of one. Blood stained what he guessed was the man’s paramedic uniform, and a gaping wound oozed vile bloody liquid. Opaque, blood shot eyes stared blankly at Franklin and Kevin.
Franklin wasn’t sure if his eyes were playing tricks on him. The man was clearly dead, but he was still walking and had an obvious appetite made apparent by the remnants of raccoon falling off his face. The stumbling dead man lunged towards Kevin, snarling and chomping his teeth. Kevin screamed like a middle school girl, and Franklin instinctively fired two rounds into the late paramedic's side.
The dead man was unfazed. He grabbed Kevin's shirt and toppled him over backwards. As the creature’s teeth snapped off a large chunk of Kevin’s nose, Franklin blasted at point-blank range into the carnivore’s head.
Its violent actions finally ceased, Franklin took a knee and put his head in his hands. The craziness of the situation finally overwhelmed him as he looked over at Kevin. Blood was gushing out of the end of his nose.
"Here you go," Franklin choked as he pulled out his camouflage handkerchief and tossed it to Kevin. "Are you ok?"
His body shaking violently, Kevin grabbed the cloth and pressed it to his wrecked nose. He tried to shake his head in acknowledgement, but it made him feel light-headed so he stopped and just sat still.
“Do you want me to go check on Larissa and call 911 for help?” Franklin asked.
Kevin mouthed the words “Yes, thank you” and gave a half-hearted thumbs up.
"Don't worry, dude. Sit there for a second, and I'll go inside and look."
Franklin yanked the back porch door open and bounded through. While calling out for Larissa, he grabbed the cordless phone from its base and jammed his finger into the emergency numbers, but was only greeted with silence. Quickly poking through the rooms, he finally reached the front of the house and found the door open. He saw Larissa standing on the sidewalk with her back to the house, staring at a little girl.
The girl had the same lack of skin color as the man Franklin had slain in the back yard. Franklin urgently shouted, "Quick, quick, Larissa! Move away from that girl, now! She's going to attack you!"
At the sound of Franklin's voice, Larissa slowly shuffled around. Franklin's heart sank as he saw her to
rn face and lifeless eyes.
"What is going on?!" he cried as he slammed the door shut on the girl and Larissa. Leaning against the front door, he rechecked his revolver cylinder: only three rounds left. He pressed the 9-1-1 again, but once more there was no calm dispatcher voice on the other end. Cold chills coursed through his body as he looked through the peephole and saw the two snarling figures scratching at the door and wall.
Suddenly he remembered Kevin sitting on the ground with a handkerchief soaking up the blood from the nose-bite. Franklin darted through the house towards the back window and looked out.
Kevin was no longer sitting, much less holding the kerchief. Inwardly, Franklin groaned, fearing the worst, but he had to know for his peace of mind. Opening the window, he called out. Kevin turned, and Franklin saw that he too was a dark shade of grey. Slamming the window shut, he leaned on the counter and took a deep breath.
A wave of panic suddenly washed over Franklin’s entire body as he stood straight up, remembering his wife and son alone back at the house, and an overwhelming urge to return to them snapped him into an intense survival mode. Judging from how quickly one threat had turned into three more, he knew he needed more weaponry than the lonely three rounds he had left in his revolver. Walking throughout the house and rummaging haphazardly through closets, he silently cursed Kevin’s lack of interest in guns. Finding nothing, he walked in the den and cast his eyes around the room until he saw a Maasai spear above the fireplace, Larissa’s souvenir from their trip to Kenya a couple years back. He grabbed that and made his way back to the kitchen. Rummaging through those drawers as well, he discovered a long, police-style flashlight and grabbed that too. Thumbing the switch, he was dismayed to learn that the batteries were dead, but he shrugged it off and slid the light into his belt, narrow end first.
He took a deep breath. It's now or never, Franklin thought. Yanking open the front door, the pale figures of Larissa and the little girl fell inside. With the toe of his boot, he kicked the taller female in her ribs and then thrust his spear into the torso of the monster child, attaching her to the drywall. Momentarily, he felt a wave of nausea overwhelm him knowing that he had just skewered a child—or what had been one only an hour before. He quickly regained his composure, however, because Larissa’s teeth chomped hard onto the side of Franklin’s right boot. Crying out in pain, Franklin lifted his left foot high and stomped down hard on the side of her head. It was a glancing blow, but it distracted her enough for him to jump back and pull out his flashlight. A strong, confident swing of the solid metal tube ended Larissa’s hunger for good.
Franklin didn’t want to waste any time reflecting on what had just happened. Without looking back at the scene that had unfolded inside the house, Franklin yanked the spear out of the wall and sprinted outside to his car. Sliding in the driver’s seat, he tossed his weapons over his shoulder into the back. The spear gouged a hole in the upholstery, leaving a bloody residue on the edge of the new hole, but he didn't care. All he could think about was getting back to his family.
Franklin wrestled the car into gear and peeled out, grinding gears and spraying sand and gravel from the driveway. Several figures moved towards the car, but Franklin swerved to avoid them and kept going. He flew through the first stop sign he came to and caught a little air as he ramped over the rise in the middle of the four way intersection. As the car bounced after its small stunt, he noticed his phone slide off the dashboard and into the passenger floorboard. I can call Jackie! Duh! he thought. He reached down for the phone and caught the bottom corner. As he was sitting up fumbling with the lock screen with his thumb, he was suddenly thrown forward, his face glancing off the steering wheel and into the radio dials. Loud music now blasted out of the speakers and competed with the annoying continuous sound of the horn. Dazed, he touched his hand to his forehead and looked foggily at the sticky blood staining it. Steam hissed around a telephone pole that had embedded itself in the front end of the car. He groaned as he realized that his car was no longer operable, and he staggered out into the road onto his hands and knees. The exertion overwhelmed him causing him to retch. Tasting the bile woke him up a little bit, so he wiped his mouth and pushed himself to his feet.
Fear struck deep within him, as the sound from the dying car began to draw more and more of the undead. Panicked, he ignored the searing pain in his head and reached inside the car, desperate for a weapon. In the mess of debris in the backseat, his fingers touched on the cool feel of steel, and he yanked out the car’s tire iron just in time to slam it against his would-be murderer. That action crushed its skull and bought him a little time, so he picked up the revolver that had fallen out of his waistband and under the car and stuck it back behind his belt. He checked the backseat for his spear, but it had snapped in two during the wreck and didn’t appear to be useful anymore. Annoyed, he hit the car with his tire iron, and turned around. Lucky for him, he rotated not a moment too soon, as three ravenous monsters descended on him.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Franklin huffed, trying to ignore the pain spiking through his skull as he swung, clocking the nearest man in the noggin, instantly dropping him. The human skull was no match for Franklin’s wrought tire iron.
“Take that you no good piece of crap!” Franklin cried as adrenaline surged through his body, numbing some of the pain. As the other two monsters approached, he beat the living daylights out of them. His racing blood pressure carried him through the task until at last they lay motionless on the ground before him.
Franklin shouldered the tire iron, spat on the ground, and set course for his home.
* * *
As darkness began to settle throughout the land, Franklin rounded the last corner, arriving at his home street. As he approached his property, he saw several figures on the porch, scratching and snarling at the door. From inside the house, he heard Jackie scream, "I told y'all to back the heck off my porch!" A flash of light accompanied by a loud blast suddenly joined the chorus of noise throughout the city. It was the comforting sound of Franklin’s twelve gauge pump action shotgun. Two more blasts followed and Franklin watched as the shot shredded the bodies of the remaining vile creatures.
"Jackie, it's me!" Franklin shouted as he ran up with his tire iron, bashing the skulls of the monsters that were still growling.
One more figure rushed out of the darkness and Franklin knocked it backwards to the ground. He picked up Jackie’s spading fork and skewered the creature’s head into the ground, securing its position on the nicely manicured lawn.
"I'm so glad you're here," Jackie said, hugging him. "I was so worried when I kept hearing screaming." She broke out in tears. “What is going on, Franklin?”
"I'm alright,” Franklin choked. “Just a little banged up. I wrecked our car.” He looked around. “How's our boy?"
"He's upstairs sleeping. Can you imagine he slept through all this?"
"That's my boy!" Franklin managed a weak smile. He was thankful Jackie didn't ask about Kevin and Larissa, so he didn't volunteer any information.
"We should get inside," suggested Jackie, still hugging her battered husband.
They stepped inside and barricaded the door. "You must have used the buck-shot," Franklin said, pointing to the shredded screen door.
"I did... What is going on, Franklin?” Jackie asked again, more persistently. “I'm getting really scared." She crossed her arms and looked up at Franklin with fear in her eyes.
Franklin paused after pushing a desk against the door. He looked at her with a grave look on his face. "What I had to do today…” his voice trailed off. “It’s all overwhelming. Earlier survival instincts just took over, but now…” He put his head on Jackie’s shoulder and a tear slid down his cheek. “But now, it’s a different world out there. I don’t know what is going on, or why this is happening. But I do know that we need to gather supplies and anything that can be used as a weapon. It is total anarchy out there. We'll make it, but we have to stick together."
I
V
Jasper's Pie and Ice Cream
Jesse scurried backwards with Katelyn in tow. He turned away from the growing scene outside the front door and began studying the darkened hallway.
“What are we going to do?” Katelyn whimpered and squeezed Jesse’s hand tighter.
Jesse pointed to a hidden trap door camouflaged against the ceiling paint. “This is our way out. There has to be another escape in case of a fire or other emergency. Can you hand me that broom?”
Katelyn picked up the red stained broom and handed it to Jesse. She watched as he used it to knock lose a frayed rope that clung stubbornly to the decade old paint job.
“Here we go.” Jesse grasped the rope and slowly pulled down. The old wood groaned in protest and large flakes of white paint rained down on the two as the door swung downward and a cheap aluminum ladder appeared.
“I’ll go up first,” Jesse said. He stepped onto the first rung and slowly crept upward. His head was enveloped in darkness as he pulled his body through the opening. In the distance he spied a faint crack of light peeking through a worn out rubber gasket sealing the roof hatch.
“Climb on up, Katelyn, it's safe,” Jesse whispered. He looked over his shoulder and saw the dark outline of a bookshelf perched precariously on some old two-by-fours.
Katelyn stepped upward one rung, but suddenly froze in fear when the screeching sound of automotive brakes, followed by the shattering of glass rippled through the air. “Jesse!” She screamed. “Those creatures are coming in!”
“Move, Katelyn! Now!” Jesse stuck his arm down and grabbed hold of Katelyn’s hand. He pulled her up as she struggled to keep her footing on the rungs. Only seconds later the feeders stumbled through the destroyed front side of the parlor and approached the base of the step ladder.
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