Sawkill [Omnibus]

by Matt Fitzgerald

  He checked his right side as he exited the study and turned left out the door. He took three steps and the thing came around the corner. It was wearing a black jumpsuit with white stripes, running shoes and a thick gold chain. Jessie vaguely thought it looked like Tony Soprano. Its face was a mess of gore and bone. It had been bitten in the head, face and neck repeatedly. Upon closer inspection Jessie noticed its fingers were gone as well. They stood looking at each other for what felt like an eternity. Then it lunged.

  Jessie ducked the creature’s clumsy grab and drew the pistol from his belt. As it spun Jessie took aim at its head and fired. He missed to the right. The Tony Soprano zombie lunged again and once more Jessie was able to duck, but now he was back in front of the study door. He took aim again, held his breath and fired. Its head didn’t explode like in the movies, but a large chunk disappeared from the left side just above its eye. A dark red, almost black liquid the consistency of chocolate syrup poured from the hole. The creature tried to take a step and fell to the ground in a heap. Jessie could hear Jessica screaming.

  “Are you alright down there?” She yelled hysterically.

  “Yes, get dressed. I’m coming up.”

  Before he went up the stairs he checked the part of the kitchen he could not see. It was empty. He located the garage door, made note and headed up the stairs. When he got there Jessica was mostly in what Jessie had asked for. Jessie looked her over from the bottom up. She had on hiking boots, jeans and a zipped up sweatshirt.

  “Want to see the bra?” She asked.

  “No hat?” He asked ignoring her question.

  “I found hair ties.”

  “It’ll do. Let’s get gone.”

  Jessica slid on her backpack and they ran down the stairs, Jessie in the lead with his pistol ready to fire at anything moving. He checked to his right at the bottom of the stairs – it was clear. He swung to the left and checked the blind spot in the kitchen – clear.

  “Run” He said.

  The pair sprinted across the kitchen and towards the garage door. Jessie hit it so hard the momentum kept him moving forward until he slammed his hips and knees on the hood of their getaway car. Jessica slammed the door behind them, but it had no lock to lock. Even in the horror and chaos of the day Jessie could not believe he was about to get behind the wheel of a mint condition, black on black, 1969 Ford Mustang Fastback. He would later find out it was a 427 big block, numbers matching with eleven thousand and seven original miles. The only modification made was the installation of a Sirius/XM satellite radio. Right now all he knew was it was the prettiest car he had ever had the privilege of driving.

  “Please tell me the garage door has a remote.” Jessie said as they each closed their doors.

  “Above the visor with the keys.”

  “Small favors.” He said smiling.

  Jessie retrieved the keys and the remote. They both buckled their seatbelts and rolled up their windows. Jessie turned the key in the ignition and the muscle car roared to life. He was embarrassed at how giddy he felt. He put the car in reverse and backed up to the rear wall of the garage. This gave three feet of start time before he hit however many of the creatures were now between the garage and the street. He knew the Audi was down seven or eight feet and he would have to turn fast once he cleared the opening. He pressed the garage door opener, put the car in first and was ready to spin the tires as soon as the door was up.

  “Jesus fucking Christ! Could this door move any slower?” He asked as giddy changed to anticipation and fear as he saw the number of lumbering feet as the door painfully rose.

  As the door went up the creatures took notice and started to advance on the opening. None of them were smart enough to duck under the rising barricade, but some fell as they tried to get in and found their way under the door. Four of them were in the garage and the opening still had two long feet to go before the car would clear.

  The fallen zombies made it to their feet and approached the car. They pawed at the car with clumsy arms, much like the one inside. Jessie didn’t understand this, because the one on TV got up and ran right after being bit, but this was no time for analysis and he knew it. The garage door finally got high enough for the car to make it. There must have been a hundred lumbering creatures in the yard and driveway.

  Jessie trounced on the gas and let up on the clutch. The tires spun and smoked on the smooth cement floor. The rear wheels caught and they launched forward. Jessie turned in time to miss the Audi but he couldn’t avoid the creatures. Some went under the car, some over the hood and some flew like bowling pins. By the time they got to the road they had ran over twenty five of them. Once on the road they were more spread out and once on Route 206 he could avoid the stragglers and stretch the Mustang’s loud, powerful legs.

  “Fuck.” Jessie blurted.

  “What’s the matter?”

  “We left the shotgun in the bathroom. That’s the second one I’ve lost today.”

  “Don’t feel bad, it doesn’t work. It was a movie prop my father was given as a gift.” Jessica said smiling at her deception.

  Jessie looked at her and shook his head.

  “Do you have any family around here?” Jessie asked.

  “What?” Jessica asked in return.

  “Family, anyone you want to go get?”

  “My sister, she lives fifteen miles up on Austin St.”

  “Alright, tell me when I’m getting close.”

  “I don’t want to tell her about mom and dad.”

  “What about them?” Jessie asked.

  “They’re dead.”

  “How can you be sure?”

  Jessica didn’t reply.

  “I’m sure phone service isn’t up everywhere.” Jessie said thinking about Mauri and the boys.

  “They are dead!” Jessica said and tears filled her eyes.

  She let out a long exhale and wiped her cheeks.

  “They’re dead because I killed them, alright!” She said and started sobbing.

  Chapter 4 - Jessica

  Earlier that morning Jessica woke up in a bed she didn’t know. She didn’t know what woke her, but it sounded like a door slamming. As she woke she had flashes of the prior night at the pub. She raised her head and looked around. It was a nice bedroom, large and professionally decorated. As she rolled over she realized she was naked. She pulled back the covers and retrieved her clothes from the floor. She got dressed, pulled on her red cowboy boots, located her purse and cell phone. Jessica was about to leave the bedroom when she spotted the digital camcorder on a tripod pointing at the bed. Her head was splitting, but her anger was stronger than the hangover. She pulled the camcorder off the tripod brought it into the master bathroom and spiked it into the bathtub. She plugged the drain, turned on the water, and left it running. As she crossed the bedroom towards the hall, she remembered the guy in the Camaro and the shots of whatever the hell that was.

  Jessica walked down the stairs, readying the tirade she was going to unleash on Camaro guy. At the bottom of the stairs she heard the sound of a television. She stormed towards the room, dreading it was last night’s home movie, already transferred to DVD.

  In retrospect, that would have been a welcome sight. Instead, she saw the news.

  The reporter was live on a rooftop in Edison, New Jersey.

  “Some are calling it rabies, others a biological weapon, and more than a few people have said the word ‘zombie.’ It’s only been nine hours since the initial disturbance in Greenwich Village, but as you can see, the situation is declining rapidly. There are thousands of reports of mass panic and hysteria sweeping New York City, and its outlying boroughs. As the sun came up this morning, cities as far away as Boston, Philadelphia and Edison, New Jersey have reported outbreaks. We are live in Edison today, the 22nd of September, and can confirm there is chaos all around us. We are on the roof of an undisclosed location and have witnessed exactly what others have been reporting. What you are about to see is graphic, bloody and very distu
rbing.”

  Jessica watched the shaky footage of a twenty something covered in blood and gore chase down and tackle the same boy Jessie was watching in his hotel room.

  “Jesus Christ.” Jessica muttered.

  As she took a step closer to the couch she realized Camaro guy had been watching the news, and hadn’t taken it well. He was lying face up on the carpet with a gunshot wound under his chin.

  Jessica walked over to the body and picked up the gun before running out the front door to her Audi.

  She drove directly to her parent’s antique and collectibles shop on Potter Road, listening to CNN on the satellite the whole way. As she drove, there were people running in the streets - screaming and dying. The glass door to the shop and the big picture window had both been smashed. Jessica parked in front and sprinted around the car and through the broken glass. What she saw she would never forget.

  Her mother was on the floor, screaming in pain and from Jessica’s point of view her father was kneeling down to attend to his injured wife.

  “Dad?” Jessica sobbed as she approached.

  When her father turned, he had a large chunk of her mother’s left bicep in his mouth. He hissed at her like a cornered cat. Jessica screamed and fumbled for the gun she had taken from the Camaro Guy’s dead hand. She watched as her father chewed the raw meat in his mouth, looking between his wife and his daughter with no sign of recognition. He turned back to his wife and took another wet bite from her arm. She screamed.

  Jessica closed her eyes and fired six times. All but one missed her father, and the one that did hit was a hell of a lucky shot. The bullet caught him just over his right eye and buried itself deep in his brain. He dropped to the ground. Her mother had started screaming louder. Jessica saw that her mother had been bitten from her feet to her nose, and had been shot twice. Two of Jessica’s stray bullets had found her mother’s shoulder and chin. They were both a ruin of blood and bone. Without hesitation, Jessica raised the gun and emptied the clip into her mother’s face and head. She dropped the gun and ran back to the Audi. In shock, she calmly drove to her parents’ house - oblivious to the carnage going on all around her. She pulled into the driveway, parked the car, chirped the lock, walked into the house and armed the security system. It wasn’t until she saw the portrait of her parents on the bookshelf that it all hit her. She dropped to the floor and sobbed herself to sleep.

  When she woke up she felt somewhat better. She decided to take a shower and get a fresh change of clothes. She still had a room at the house. As she stood in the shower rinsing off the blood spatter on her arms the house alarm went off.

  Now Jessica sat in the passenger seat of her father’s trophy car with the man who broken into her parent’s house and tried to steal her car.

  “Jesus Jessica, I’m sorry.” Jessie said.

  “Me too.” She said, and tuned the satellite radio to CNN.

  Anderson Cooper’s voice came over the speakers, sounding exhausted and terrified, but trying to keep his composure.

  “This is what we know so far. At approximately ten forty-five last night there were a series of 911 calls in the Greenwich Village neighborhood, initially reporting a gang fight. Those reports quickly changed to reports of “rabid people biting everyone.” Police and rescue arrived, were overwhelmed by the frenzied crowd, and then reportedly joined the carnage. Those are the words of an eye witness. Cell phone videos started to appear on Facebook and Twitter almost immediately. Additional law enforcement was brought in, but the situation was already out of control. Over the next several hours the chaos spread across Manhattan and sometime in the night jumped to the main land.”

  “Jesus.” Jessica muttered listening.

  “It is unclear when or if an official state of emergency has been declared because there has been no official word from any branch of government. The whereabouts of the president is unknown. The vice president had been in the Hamptons and is confirmed dead, or undead. There are reports of breakouts as far north as Maine and as far south as Atlanta. As people tried to flee the New York area, they brought the bitten and infected with them, and the pathogen did the rest. There have been no reports of anything besides local law enforcement on the east coast. We are getting unconfirmed reports of heavy military presence all up and down the Mississippi River, and several reports of bridges along the river being blown up. If these reports are to be believed, that would indicate they are using the river as what some are calling the “containment line.”

  “The Mississippi.” Jessica said dryly. “They are giving up on half the country.”

  “Did you hear what he said? He said ‘pathogen.’ How does he know that?” Jessie asked.

  As if Anderson heard the question he continued.

  “The biggest break in the story came at approximately nine this morning when a man identifying himself as a scientist with the United States army appeared on a live local Orlando morning show. Roll it.”

  Jessie and Jessica could obviously not see the video feed, but they could follow the events by the sound. The plucky female anchor was wishing everyone up north well amidst the “unfortunate unrest” happening this morning.

  “Did that bitch just say ‘unfortunate unrest’?” Jessica asked.

  Jessie didn’t answer.

  On the radio they could hear commotion on the set, off microphone yelling and then a gun shot. There was screaming, scuffling and the sound of running…then the audio became clear.

  “No. Don’t turn that camera off. You can go, but leave it on. No! You two stay. I’ll shoot you if you move. Give me your mic.” The man said.

  There were the sounds of an open microphone swishing against cloth and then a dull click as the man attached it to himself.

  “Is this working?” He asked.

  He must have gotten a response from someone.

  “Good. My name is Alexander Gunderson. I am a biological research scientist working for the US government. My identification verification is Blue111898A. I will die for what I am about to tell you, but it must be said if anyone is going to have a chance to survive this. What has happened today you can call a zombie outbreak for all practical purposes. I don’t have time for the technical explanation, but the theory you all know from the Romero movies is close enough. The government has been experimenting with biological warfare for years and created a very efficient pathogen they call “The Sawkill Strain,” named as such for the secret research facility in Sawkill, NY. This version of the pathogen was deemed too effective, due to its 100 percent communicability and mortality rate. It has been stored in Sawkill since its inception in 2007. The only thing preventing total human extinction is the fact that it is not the airborne version of the pathogen. It must be transmitted by bodily fluid - blood, saliva, urine…even tears.”

  As Jessie drove he could see the tears rolling down Jessica’s face.

  “Four nights ago the Sawkill facility reported an anomaly in protocol. There was a code red and the facility was put into complete lockdown. The next day facility officials claimed it was a drill, but it is now evident that this was not the case. The unconfirmed story is that samples of several different biological weapons were misplaced or stolen, with the Sawkill strain being one of them. The outbreak we have witnessed over the last twelve hours is consistent with that pathogen’s symptoms. Once infected, the host appears to die and come back to life. In the early stages the newly turned are savagely fast and aggressive. Once the host’s adrenaline supply is exhausted they become the lumbering creatures we are all more familiar with.”

  There were sounds of a new disturbance in the studio. Gunderson talked faster.

  “The pathogen is reliant on the host’s brain function. Remove the head or destroy the brain and the…”

  That is all Alexander Gunderson said. Automatic gunfire filled the studio and although Jessica and Jessie could not see it, the scientist and the two morning show anchors were reduced to flying chunks of flesh and bone. The camera swung wildly and caught a
glimpse of half a dozen soldiers in black BDUs. Before the camera stopped its swing there was more gunfire and the screen went blank. Anderson Cooper’s voice said they would be back after a break.

  Jessica burst into full sobs and brought her head down to her knees in the passenger seat. Jessie reached over and put his hand on her shoulder. She got herself under control and raised her head.

  “It’s the left after next.” She said as she wiped the tears from her face.

  Austin Street was a quiet street half a mile long with half a dozen houses generously spaced out. As they drove at a steady fifteen miles an hour, Jessie could see people peeking out of blinds and inner doors opening to see who was driving by.

  Jessica pointed to the last house on the left.

  “That’s Dana’s place.”

  “You didn’t tell me your sister was married to Bill Gates.” Jessie said and whistled his approval.

  “Divorced Bill Gates actually.” She said, smiling.

  “Is she here alone?”

  “Yes, her son is in France for the semester.”

  They drove up the long driveway and parked as close to the front door as they could. Jessica got out and stood up, making sure she could be seen. A moment later the front door opened and Dana used her revolver to wave them in. Jessie looked at the clock – it was ten to one. They went in quickly and Dana closed the door behind them. She spun the dead bolt and threw her arms around her baby sister.

  “I thought you were dead. I called but it just went to voicemail.” Dana said.

  “It’s off. I’m saving the battery.” She said apologetically.

  “As long as you’re alright.” Dana said smiling ear to ear.

  Dana looked at Jessie and lingered on the gun in his hand.