Zapacolypse

by Mixi J Applebottom

  “It’s Redd!” said John, but his voice was ragged with fear. He was not in control of himself anymore.

  Hunter glanced over and saw Redd standing in the doorway of his house. He was also shuffling towards them. Neither man seem to respond to any of their verbal cues, not even a little. The deputy’s gun shivered next to Hunter. Desperately, he tried to think of something to say to John.

  It was too late; John bolted.

  He ran toward the cop car in a panic, uttering a small scream of terror. Both Eric and Redd seem to hear that scream, despite ignoring Hunter’s many commands.

  They started moving faster, now staggering towards John with their mouths gaping open, ready for fresh flesh. He looked back at them, and suddenly biffed it, twisting his ankle and crashing into the dirt. Panic was wild on his face.

  Hunter shouted, “If you don’t stop, I’m going to shoot you.” He paused a moment, but both men kept charging forwards, faster now that they had seen John. They were getting too close. Would they really try to bite him? “One, two, three,” he counted up, trying to warn them.

  John tried to scramble up to his feet but let out another scream of pain. “My ankle is crushed,” he shouted.

  Hunter had to do it. He fired a shot in the knee of Eric, then Redd. They stumbled forward from the force, then carried on, awkwardly moving towards John. They didn’t even scream out in pain.

  John screamed in panic, suddenly firing into the chest of both men. He unloaded his entire gun in terror. Eric stuttered, his chest jerking from the bullets, but then he continued forward. Redd didn’t even seem to notice being shot, as if it was mosquito bites.

  Hunter shot them in the legs again. He quickly unloaded his own gun into their legs. Each shot was carefully aimed to take out their knees. Eric fell, then finally Redd fell, their legs torn to shreds.

  And yet they continued to crawl, still mute. Hunter was staring in shock; they hadn’t screamed even once. They were dragging themselves on the ground, pulling their shattered limbs behind them. They seemed to know no pain. They were silent; the only noise was the clicking of their teeth.

  Hunter ran to John, helping drag him to the car.

  Eric and Redd were slow now, crawling at a tedious pace. But still, they inched forward.

  John couldn’t understand what was happening. “What do we do? I shot them in the chest,” he said in a panic. “I shot them in the chest,” John whimpered, staring at the bullet-ridden farmers.

  “I don’t know,” Hunter said as he shook his head in disbelief. “They’re losing a lot of blood. I don’t know what to do.” He stared at their wriggling bodies, silent and together, scooting toward the cop car. It might take them an hour to get all the way across the lawn, but they were still slowly coming.

  John got into passenger seat. “Could we… handcuff them to something?” he said with his eyes fixed on the two men crawling towards them. They were moving so slowly that John and Hunter were safe, for now. But they still had to figure out what to do.

  Both Redd and Eric had said nothing this entire time, not one peep. Hunter’s mind was whirling. How are they still moving? He tapped his foot on the ground, finally making a decision. “Call for an ambulance,” Hunter said. “I’ll try and handcuff them.”

  He left John to do the phone calling while he walked over to the men. They were opening and closing their mouths like little ducklings when he stood close. They kept grabbing at him. He backed away and tried to think of what to do.

  Their eyes looked so dead. It was hard to look at them. “Can you hear anything I am saying?” Hunter asked. Both men just opened and closed their mouths again, saying nothing else. Whatever had happened to them, they were now… broken. Braindead, or some sort of bizarre retardation. Maybe it’s rabies? Hunter paused at the thought. He’d never seen a case of rabies before.

  Hunter took a deep breath, still dancing around their grasping hands. “Okay, guys, I’m gonna try knocking you out. You both look like you could use a nap anyway.” One quick, loud thump from his billy stick, followed by a second one.

  Both bodies went limp.

  He handcuffed them together. Then he glanced around. A thick two-inch pipe stuck from the ground not two yards away. It had obviously been used as a drying rack for clothes at some point, but the strings were brittle and broken. He grabbed Eric’s hand and dragged the pair of unconscious men to the pole. He handcuffed Eric’s free hand to the pole after checking that it wasn’t loose in the ground. Both men were bleeding profusely, but they didn’t seem to care. He didn’t want to touch them, but it looked like they were still breathing.

  Hopefully, they’d wake up, and hopefully, the hospital could help them. And if they couldn’t save them, maybe the autopsies would help figure out what happened.

  He shuddered when he looked at the pierced torsos and legs. How are they still alive? Hunter wondered.

  He hoped the ambulance would come fast. He walked back slowly to John, who was pale as he was sitting in the passenger seat of the squad car. His hands were shaking. As Hunter got closer, he could hear what the man was shouting. “Nobody answered. Nobody. I couldn’t get a hold of Delilah, I couldn’t get a hold of the hospital. It just rang and rang.” John looked toward the two men, and then looked back up at Hunter. “What kind of problem are we having?” John said, his voice trembling.

  “John, I don’t know. But if it was big, it’d be all over the news. We’d be hearing it on the radio. There wouldn’t be silence. I think… I think that the phone line issue is unrelated. I need you to keep it together, man.” Hunter looked desperately at his deputy, pleading with him to keep it together.

  “You have another one of those stupid jokes?” said John, but his tone was anything but merry.

  “Knock … knock,” said Hunter, but he was staring at the men who were slowly starting to wake again. Their bodies stirred in a slow fashion.

  “Who’s there?” said John, but he was looking away, looking at the house.

  A smile slowly creeped across Hunter’s face. “Booger.”

  John paused. “Seriously?” He took a big breath. “Okay, booger who?”

  Hunter let out a small chuckle. “It snot very funny, is it?”

  John let out a laugh. “I’ll keep an eye on this.” He pointed in the general direction of the two men. “You go see if the wife is okay.”

  Hunter stepped into the house to look for Linda. The wooden front door was broken into chunks. There was a small pool of blood leading to the kitchen, and it was obvious that the long-shuffled footprints must’ve been Redd’s, Hunter hoped.

  There was a stack of breakfast plates by the sink. Hunter thought this whole thing was just weird. Why would Redd have breakfast with his wife, then a few moments later try to attack her? No signs of marital fighting.

  Hunter quickly scanned the room for any more clues. He’d run through the crime scene in detail once he found Linda.

  Hunter followed the drying blood, noting the odd pattern that showed Redd wandered throughout the house. It seemed like he wasn’t … going anywhere. He just kind of mindlessly shuffled into things, according to the path of bloody footprints. He must have been bleeding pretty heavily for this much blood to be on the floor. Would adrenaline have kicked in? Would that have explained his moving so much while losing so much blood? Hunter wondered.

  There was a pool of blood at the bedroom door that was larger than the others. The bedroom door had long, splintered cracks running down it. It was lucky that this was a wooden door, because if it had been a hollow door like most homes, it would’ve been broken through. Hunter noticed something even odder…

  The door handle had no blood on it. The door itself splintered, beaten by hands, was streaked with blood. The handle? Clean.

  Had Redd, in his addled state, forgotten how door handles worked? Hunted blinked in disbelief. None of this was making sense. His chest grew tight staring at the door, a wave of worry rushing over him. For the first time in his entire career, he wi
shed he wasn’t the sheriff.

  He stared at the scene for a while. His brain felt like sludge. What could have done this to Redd? Then he heard her crying.

  “Go away. Please, Redd,” whimpered what could only be Linda, her voice cracking nervously. She was sniffling, but it was muffled.

  Hunter hurried to Linda’s voice. “It’s the sheriff, ma’am,” he replied calmly, then awkwardly adjusted the hat on his head as he stood there. “You can come out. I’ve got them handcuffed in the front.”

  “Are you sure?” Linda’s voice cracked nervously—she sounded slightly less muffled and a bit closer to the door. “You know what’s wrong with him?” she asked.

  Hunter shook his head. “No, but Deputy John’s trying to get an ambulance. I want to warn you, it’s not pretty. We … We had to shoot him; he is in bad shape. They both are.” He realized that she would have to walk past her husband. “I don’t want you to look at them until they’re cleaned up, okay?” he said calmly.

  “Them?” Linda said as she slowly opened the door, peeking out at him. “What you mean?” she asked.

  Hunter looked at her, confused. “I mean Eric and your husband Redd,” he said. “Both handcuffed, they both have been shot. I don’t think you should look at them.”

  She sure was a sight. Karen and Linda had been old friends, but he had never seen the woman as such a mess before. Her eyes were nearly swollen shut from sobbing.

  “But… Eric is dead.” Karen’s voice cracked with fear. “I saw Redd kill him. I saw them fight. Eric didn’t get up, he wasn’t moving. He lost too much blood.” Her hands fluttered to her throat and she let out a rough, sobbing sound.

  Hunter held out his hand to her in reassurance. “I understand, ma’am. I understand what you are going through. But, when we got here, Eric came straight for us. Then your husband. They were going to hurt John. They’re handcuffed. You’re safe. I promise.”

  Linda took Hunter’s hand, and they stepped forward through the house. She shuddered as she slipped slightly in one of the pools of blood. He did have to get the crime scene folks, well… John to take pictures. “We are going to treat this like a crime scene. So I’ll need you to stay with your sister or someone until we are done. She has a spare room, doesn’t she?” Hunter said. He looked over at her, and she was quiet. “Linda? Did you hear me?” asked Hunter, trying to push her gently to get an answer from her.

  Linda nodded. “Yes.” She was closing her eyes as they walked through her house. Her fingers restlessly fumbled at her arm.

  Hunter needed to work this all out; it wasn’t adding up. “Can you tell me again while it’s fresh in your mind… What happened?” He glanced at her. She was clearly in shock. Her eyes were almost glazed over.

  Linda opened her mouth, paused, and then began. “It’s the same thing I told you on the phone. Eric came…” She paused and swallowed, her eyes shut tight. “Then he… attacked…” She took a deep breath slowly and swallowed. “He attacked Redd, he bit him. And Redd killed him, but as soon as he was done, he turned and tried to bite me.” Linda gasped, trying to hold back a sob.

  Hunter stared at Linda. “And then?”

  She was scratching gently at her arm now, the fabric pulled tight with her fingertips. “Our dog got between us, and I ran in the house… But he broke down that door.” She let out a small sob. “Then I hid in the closet when I heard him coming.” She was whimpering slightly.

  A twinge of regret ran through Hunter. Maybe he was pushing her too hard. “Okay, you’re going to need to go stay with someone. This is a crime scene now,” said Hunter. He glanced at the shuffled streaks of blood on the floor.

  “I know,” she said, scratching nervously at her arms. “I can go to my sister’s.” Her arm had a small red rash starting to show. “I don’t want to see him.” She closed her eyes tightly.

  Hunter led Linda to the back row of the patrol car. “Okay, let’s get to the car quick,” he said. He’d need to contain the crime scene, then take her back to the station for more questioning. She climbed inside. “You’ve got something there,” Hunter said, pointing at the edge of her mouth.

  She paused for a moment, not sure what he was talking about, then ran her finger across her lip and wiped a long string of drool away.

  Poor woman, she looks as if she’s lost her mind, Hunter thought.

  He glanced up at John in the passenger seat and the two men handcuffed to the pole. A long day of paperwork would be ahead of them, and he was grateful.

  Hunter shut the door to the back seat of the Pine Crest’s Sheriff sedan and then tapped on the passenger door. John popped it open, leaning out of the car so Linda in the back seat wouldn’t have to hear. “Did you get an ambulance called?” Hunter asked him.

  John shook his head. “I tried. Nobody answered.” He bit at his finger nervously and then stared at the two men handcuffed on the ground. “How are they even still moving?” John questioned in shock.

  The two men looked at the mutilated farmers. They had bullets lodged in their bodies and were slowly leaking blood onto the ground. And yet, the men were thrashing hard against their restraints, as if they’d not been punctured by flying lead. Eric seemed to be moving faster, thrashing hard, until there was a loud cracking sound.

  John let out a hoarse cry of surprise and whispered in horror, “They’re breaking their wrists.” His eyes were wide, and he turned away, disgusted.

  Hunter was shocked. “What?” he said, then walked over to the two men. They were fully awake now, their mouths opening and closing as if they were biting down on the air. John was right; they been pulling so hard that Eric had dislocated his wrist, and Redd looked like he was just about to break his. Hunter stared in disbelief.

  “Eric? Redd?” Hunter said softly. Then he coughed and repeated louder, “I think you two are in shock; you’ve been shot. Please stop moving. Eric? Redd? Can you hear me?” Hunter asked them, but neither man responded. They continued to buck against their restraints silently, opening and closing their mouths in little clicks as their teeth clacked together. Goosebumps ran up Hunter’s spine. He’d never seen anything like this before.

  They weren’t bleeding anymore. It seemed strange, that they had stopped leaking blood, but the bullet holes were still wide open. Both Eric and Redd had gone ghastly pale colored. For a second, staring at the blood-soaked puddle they were lying in, Hunter wondered if they had been fully drained of all of their blood.

  He blinked repeatedly, his eyes not able to compute. But how would they be moving? Hunter thought.

  John leaned out of the car and yelled to Hunter, “Hey, Hunter?” He still hadn’t stood up yet since he had rolled his ankle so badly. Hunter walked back over, and his shoe and sock were off, his foot purple and swelling up huge.

  Hunter took off his hat and fanned his face a little. “Yes, John?” he asked. Hunter could feel that his skin was getting hot, but he wasn’t sure if it was just from the panicky feeling in his chest. His eyes kept blinking, as if the entire day could be blinked into oblivion.

  John looked pleased with himself. “I called Doc. I know he’s retired and all, but at least maybe he could take a look.” John swallowed. “Besides, that call went through,” he said with a tired smile.

  Hunter glanced up to the sky. Thankfully, we’ve got someone. He took a long, slow breath and straightened his hat. “That is the first good news all morning.”

  John shook his head in disbelief. “I don’t understand how they are alive,” said John. He started chewing on his lip. John was shivering, either from the fear or from the shock.

  Hunter nodded over to John’s purple ankle. “How painful is the foot?” he asked and glanced at his deputy. That man was not ready for this kind of craziness. Is anyone? Hunter wondered.

  John tried to wiggle his toes and winced. “Bad. I think its broke,” he added.

  “Did you call Delilah?” said Hunter, thinking about what else could possibly go wrong today. He couldn’t wait to get home to his ki
ds, and his wife, and even his cranky dad. He’d give anything for a bit of normal.

  John coughed hard and then said, “She didn’t answer,” he said quickly, then his face was twisted and red, and he coughed again.

  What’s going on with the phones? Delilah had said there were problems, but this is nuts. Hunter wondered if there was a connection between everything. He hoped Doc would hurry up and get here, then he could get back to town and find out what was really going on.

  There was an ominous feeling in the air between the two of them, as they were both deep in thought about today’s events. Hunter tried to think of something to say that would be comforting. Criminy, even a dad joke would ease the air a little. But he couldn’t seem to think of any. He turned to say knock, knock, but John looked so miserable, he let it lie.

  There was a dusty drift on the horizon; it was Doc in his old car. It was squeaking, squealing down the road. When the door swung open, it too squealed. It was like the entire car was protesting the journey and the weight of this large man. His body rippled as he climbed out of the car.

  Doc was as tall as he was round. He looked like a hot air balloon, with his shirt collar biting into his neck and the rolls of fat flopping over it. Doc had been retired for at least three years already and looked as though he’d been enjoying himself as a food expert.

  Doc’s hair, what was left of it, was totally gray. Nearly white. “What have we got here?” he asked.

  Hunter couldn’t even remember his actual name, having called him Doc for all these years. He wasn’t sure how to start. “Well, we’ve been having a weird day…” Hunter said. Before he could finish, Doc interrupted.

  Doc stared at the two men handcuffed. “It looks like it,” said Doc as he headed over to the men.

  Hunter stopped him. “You don’t want to get too close. Eric tried to bite Redd—according to Linda. And once Eric bit Redd, then Redd suddenly tried to bite Linda. That’s when she called us.” Hunter paused, waiting for Doc’s inevitable questions.

  Doc seemed to take it all in stride or maybe he didn’t care. “Alright.” He nodded, to Hunter’s relief. Maybe Doc had heard of cases like this before and he could help the men.