SHTF (NOLA Zombie Book 0)

by Zane, Gillian

  "Okay, fine, I'm sorry," Hank spoke up. "I just, well, this is your kind of thing. I'm not used to this. Hurricanes, yeah. But, this. It's insane. I can't believe our government would barricade us in and let an infection burn itself out. That's something out of the movies."

  "I've been in other parts of the world where things like this happen all the time. There was a case of the plague devastating a village in Africa, once it was out of hand, we didn't send in doctors anymore. We just made sure no one got out to spread the infection. It's triage protocol. Sacrifice the dying so everyone else can live."

  "That's heartless." Barbara shivered.

  "It's crisis logic, and how people survive. If you have five people left on Earth, but only enough food to feed four. Do you give the food to the man dying of cancer? He's already dying. What would be the point of feeding him, even if he can live a few more months with cancer, his death is inevitable?"

  "So, the only option is to let him starve to death?" Barbara said. I caught a glimpse of her disgusted look in the rearview mirror.

  "Or give him a gun and have him take a walk into the woods," I said coldly.

  "Sick, Tim," Hank spoke up.

  "I'm just giving an example. I'm not saying this is the only option, guys. It's just how things get decided in the government. If they think they can save Louisiana by putting a quarantine around New Orleans, our state government will do it. If the Feds think sacrificing Louisiana will save the rest of the country–they'll do that too."

  I looked up when I felt Hank start to brake.

  "I thought you said the quarantine would keep the streets clear." Barbara gestured to the sea of taillights that came into view as we crested the high rise.

  "It's just the Columbus effect, we got this," I said.

  "Columbus effect?" Barbara asked.

  "Yeah, you know, they don't know what's on the other side, so they slow down, afraid they might fall over the edge." She laughed at my response, but I could hear the strain in her voice. Sure enough, when we crested the high-rise over the Industrial canal, the traffic spread out and all the cars began to cruise along. I glanced down at the industrial buildings below us, a large fire raged in one of the warehouses not too far from a bustling neighborhood. The fire was so out of control that I could see flames coming out of the metal roof. There were no fire trucks on the scene.

  "Get off at the Chalmette exit," I said, pointing over the seat at the upcoming exit.

  Hank changed lanes until he was in the far right lane, ready to exit the interstate. We had made good time. We would be at the compound before sundown.

  "You're going to head toward Venetian Isles, just keep going east," I said.

  We were in a very under-developed area of New Orleans. It was mostly marshland and abandoned houses. There had once been an amusement park out here, Jazzland, but it had been struggling before the storm and Katrina had finished it off. Now the relic of an amusement park stood rotting to welcome everyone from the East into the city.

  The streets were dead ahead of us, but a car had exited with us and was following a little close. We turned off the main drag to head deeper into New Orleans East.

  Hank made a right and we went deeper into the area of New Orleans called New Orleans East. The area had been devastated by Hurricane Katrina but was now mostly back up and running. Mostly. I hadn't come out here much before Zach and Blake bought land out here. It was a different world. Once you got this far out, signs changed from English to Vietnamese to Spanish and back and forth, depending on what block you were one. Houses and businesses took on a very Asian look and there was a delipidated look to everything. Most of the buildings had seen better days.

  Obviously the people of this area had not heard the warning to stay in their homes. People milled about in doorways or on the sidewalks, talking to each other. Business still had glowing open signs in their windows and there was a man on the corner holding a cardboard sign that read "Wash Car $10." There was something else written underneath it, but it was either in a different language or gibberish, I couldn't tell which.

  "Keep on going straight." I patted Hank on the shoulder and turned to Alicia. She was looking out the window, entranced by her surroundings.

  "We'll get there soon and once we're there, we'll be safe. No more infected people, no more chaos," I said to her and finally got a response when she nodded slightly.

  "Hank, watch out!" Barbara screamed and I turned in my seat, just in time to see another car blowing the red light and coming directly toward us. Hank swerved and the inertia threw me into Alicia, who cried out. Hank wasn't nimble enough to avoid a wreck and the other car slammed into the rear bumper with a loud crash and spun us out of control. The SUV teetered precariously as it swung around and headed directly for a light pole. The scream of metal and the peel of tires was the only thing I heard as my world was tilted back and forth, out of control for a few tragic seconds.

  I hit my head hard on the side of the vehicle and then was slammed in the face as the rear airbags deployed. The instant ringing clued me in that I had hit my head pretty hard, but I seemed to be coherent.

  One hundred times one hundred is...I was never good at math.

  I could hear Alicia whimpering and Hank was cursing. When I got my bearings, I was relieved to see that we didn't flip and we hadn't hit the pole. I pushed the door open and went to Barbara's door, pulling it open, I checked her and she waved me off when I started to inspect her head, which was bleeding.

  Hank was getting out on his side, so I pulled the back door open and checked on Alicia. She seemed unhurt also, just like the rest of us. We were all just a little shaken. The SUV had a flat tire and the back bumper was a mess, but the engine started back up when Hank tried it. We would have to drive with deflated airbags but that was minor in comparison to what could have happened.

  We had drawn a crowd. They gathered around us and gaped. A few asked if we were okay and we just nodded and thanked them. I looked around for the other car. A man was trying to open the door, but it seemed jammed and the woman was having a fit behind the wheel. She looked like she was flailing around trying to get out.

  The man was tugging and pulling on the door to no avail.

  My phone buzzed in my pocket. When I pulled it out to check the screen it was an unknown number.

  "This is Romeo," I said.

  "Romeo, it's Lena." She sounded breathless and upset.

  "What's wrong?" I asked, instantly on alert.

  "They've got it all shutdown. The military, they've blocked the streets and aren't letting anyone pass. I'm stuck on the bridge along Lake Pontchartrain or something. There's nowhere to go, nowhere to turn around. They have guns pointed on us. I don't know what to do. I don't know what they're doing. I think they're going to take us. I can't move my car, I'm completely blocked in, Romeo...what do I do?"

  "Stay calm, Lena. Have they said anything, given you any sort of direction?" While I was talking to Lena I kept watch as the people of the crowd

  milled around. I didn’t like being exposed like this.

  "No, it looks like they're checking people one by one." I heard the clatter of gunshots through her phone and she screamed.

  "Oh my God, they just shot someone! They just opened fire on a man, Romeo!"

  I didn't know what to tell her. I was a little slow on the uptake, my head still hurt from the impact. What was there to do? Get out of her car and start to run? I couldn't tell her to do that. I knew she wasn't infected. That had to be what the Army was checking for. If she wasn't infected they would let her through, right? Logically.

  I looked up and noticed the man had finally managed to get the door open to the other car. The woman behind the wheel was still floundering around and when he reached in to help her, I knew he had made a mistake.

  "Lena, listen to me, calm down. They're checking for infected." I began to back up, signally to Hank that shit had gotten out of hand.

  The woman surged to her feet and grabbed the man, ri
pping and tearing at him, pulling him to her until he was right by her face–and then she bit down. His scream of pain shattered the silence and everyone started to panic at once.

  "What is that? Are people screaming? Are you okay, oh God, tell me you're okay."

  "I'm fine, sweetheart, you'll be fine too. You're not infected. Do what they tell you, you'll be fine."

  "O-o-kay, one of them is coming, what should I–" A man ran in my direction and knocked the phone out of my hand when he floundered and hit my shoulder. I scrambled and grabbed for it, but when I got it back in my hand, the call had been dropped.

  People started to run. Some fell to the ground while others just high-tailed it in the other direction. The infected woman was pulling herself out of the car. She fell on top of the man that had tried to help her and began to feed. She was ripping at him, the flesh of his skin tearing off with each yank of her teeth. His screams faded to choking sounds until the only noise was the woman's chewing and the sound of flesh being torn away from the bone.

  We couldn’t flee the scene with a flat tire, but with an infected person this close none of us were safe. I made a split second decision. I had no proof that these people couldn’t be cured, but it was highly unlikely. You couldn’t come back from something like this. The man was now ripped to shreds. His guts were ripped open and this woman who was infected and completely out of it, had just ingested most of his innards.

  I drew my .38 and walked up to the two victims of this monstrous disease. I placed one bullet in the middle of their foreheads with two quick shots. Both slumped to the ground with two neat wounds between their eyes, dead, at peace. The whole world seemed to gasp around me. Quiet followed the booming sound of my gun. No one spoke, no one screamed, birds didn’t even chirp. Everyone around us had fled.

  I turned back and faced Hank and Barbara. They just stared at me. Hank looked disturbed, but there was no condemnation. Barbara just looked worried. My eyes found Alicia.

  “You killed them!” she whisper-shouted at me. She stared at the woman and the man now strewn across the street. I ignored Alicia. I had killed them. Them or us. Us won.

  I remembered Lena and dialed the number she had called from. It went straight to voicemail. I tried again and only got a busy signal. I was worried for Lena, but right now I had to focus on my family. She would be safe, the Army would protect the non-infected, they had to, it was their job.

  Now it was time to clean up my mess. I grabbed the woman underneath her arms and began dragging her across the street to the side of the road. I ignored Alicia, who seemed to be stuck on repeat with the "you killed them" chant. I didn’t need her condemnation now. I felt guilty enough. I went back and grabbed the man, pulling him across the street and depositing him on the sidewalk.

  “Change the tire, Hank, we need to get out of here.” I got behind the wheel of the woman’s car and got it started with a few cranks of the key. The front-end was crumpled in, but it moved when I pressed on the gas. The engine was stuttering, but I managed to get it to the parking lot along the side of the road and park it there and out of the street. Didn't need any more accidents today.

  Alicia paced along the side of the SUV, clearly disturbed by my actions. Hank was in constant motion. He unpacked the back of the SUV to get to the spare, and quickly had it out and ready. I looked around at our surroundings. The people in the area had fled to the stores that lined the street. Open signs had turned to closed and lights had been shut off. Even the homeless guy that had been sleeping on the bus stop bench had moved away to safety. I didn’t know if it was because of the infected or because of me and my .38. I didn’t really care; fewer people meant fewer of the infected.

  I wanted to feel empathy for the poor souls that were turning into mindless cannibals – but I just couldn't. They were now the enemy. And in my book, there was only one way to deal with an enemy: eradication.

  Seventeen

  My Sister’s Keeper

  I wanted to help Hank change the tire but I got nervous about having my back turned. I didn’t want any more surprises. I had just shot two unarmed, infected civilians. There was no telling what would happen next. My palms were sweating and I felt queasy. I didn’t regret what I did, or so I kept telling myself.

  There was no way they could come back from the state they were in. It wasn’t possible that these people could be healed. They were the walking dead. Fucking zombies. If I needed any more confirmation, Costco had cemented that theory. You can't survive your guts dragging on the ground. Last I checked, modern medicine couldn't re-stuff your intestines.

  I kept my gun drawn.

  “I need help here,” Hank said, wrestling the jack underneath the car.

  I bent down next to him, my adrenaline pumping the entire time. I grabbed the spare while he slipped the jack under the frame.

  I did not like this. No, I did not.

  My back was turned for maybe two minutes when I heard the screams coming from the store to the left of us. I stood and turned to face the new threat.

  “Get the tire changed quick,” I hissed at Hank, but he didn’t need any encouragement from me, he was loosening the lug nuts like a champ.

  The door of the store swung open and a woman fell out of the building face first. Her body landed with a loud thump. She hit head first, propping the door open where she lay. She looked up at me, her arms reaching, pleading for help. Her face was a mess of blood, strangely muted from this distance. It looked like strawberry jelly, like she had been hit in the face with a cobbler or something. A figure, shadowed from the inside of the building, fell on her and began to feed. Flesh ripped and from this distance I was surprised I could hear the unmistakable sound of its grunts and teeth as he feasted on the woman.

  She had gone quiet, but she still reached for help.

  Alicia whimpered behind me and I turned to console her, to quiet her. I didn’t want to bring attention to our group. They seemed to be attracted to noise. We just needed a few more minutes. We just needed to get the tire changed and we were out of here.

  Alicia's eyes were huge and her bottom lip quivered. I could hear the hitch of her breath as she panted with each inhalation. She was having a panic attack. There was no doubt in my mind. I could see it in the tremble of her hands. I could see her chest shudder in a staccato rhythm as she fought to control her reactions. I had witnessed many a person panic in the face of violence, trained soldiers and innocent civilians. Nothing good ever came from a panic attack.

  “Alicia, I need you to take a deep breath, a really big breath. Can you do that for me?” I said in my most calming voice. She didn’t even look at me. Her mouth began to open and close like a fish, her gaze never wavering from the infected man chowing down on the woman in the door.

  She sucked in a breath and it caught in her throat, a high pitch whine emanating from her throat. We were screwed.

  Her mouth opened and she began to scream. The infected man’s head shot up, he stared right at us. He pushed himself off of his meal, and got to his feet shakily. His gait was awkward, choppy and it looked pained. He was heading in our direction at a much quicker pace than I would have expected for someone that looked very injured.

  Alicia’s scream never wavered. She kept up the ear-piercing barrage until the woman in the doorway pushed herself off the ground too, her insides hanging from her body, her chest a mangled, chewed mess…and she began to walk in our direction. She had the same choppy gait of her attacker. The woman was obviously dead, there was no questioning it, or thinking on the matter. I could see her ribs.

  The silence descended over us as Alicia’s scream cut off abruptly. The moaning of the infected now surrounded us.

  “Get in the vehicle, Alicia,” I ordered. She was behind me, so I turned to face her, pointing to the SUV for emphasis. She didn't move. I grabbed her shoulder and she jolted out of her shocked state. Her eyes found mine, they were still full of panic, tears were streaming down her cheeks. She shook out of my grasp and cringed as if s
he didn’t recognize me.

  “No, no, no.”Sshe focused back on the approaching infected man. I could imagine he filled her entire vision. His jaw that hung open in eagerness, the blood that dripped from his mouth, there was even a bit of viscera caught in his teeth, hanging in a bloody string down his chin. She didn't need to see this.

  She began to scream again, but this time she screamed and ran. She ran away from the infected man, she ran away from us. She ran away from the SUV into the neighborhood behind us. She was fast, Barbara tried to run after her, but Alicia was running for her life and Barbara was ten years older and not a runner. I was suddenly torn. Go after Alicia or stay and protect Hank and our supplies?

  They were adults, Alicia was my kid sister. I drew my second hand gun, placed it in Hank’s hands and ran after Alicia. I screamed and told Barbara to go back to the SUV. I was a runner. I ran every day of my life, just for shits and giggles. But there was a difference between a panicked girl being chased and a recreational jogger. It took me a long time to catch up to her, too long.

  She raced into the neighborhood and I finally caught up to her when she began to go from house to house banging on doors, screaming for help.

  “Alicia!” I yelled. If she was lucid enough to bang on the doors for help, she had to stop and realize it was me behind her, not some infected person.

  She turned around and faced me, on the front step of a small brick house.

  “Tim, leave me alone!”

  “Alicia, what the hell?” I stopped in my tracks, keeping a good distance between us. She looked like she was scared of me. Why would she be afraid of me?

  “Stay away from me!” she yelled again and turned around and began to pound on the door.

  “What is wrong with you, Alicia, we’ll make it out of this, why are you doing this?”