Autumn's Calling (Book 1): The Outbreak

by Michelle Weese

  “Henry? Are you still in there? Just say something, so we know you are still you,” I told him, trying to give him the benefit of the doubt. But he just groaned and started crawling our way, slowly but making progress an inch at a time. Terrified of what I was about to do, my hands began trembling. The nurse inside me was telling me to try to help him, save him, but my gut instinct said I had to kill him before he could hurt us. “I’m sorry Bea, but he’s gone. We have to shoot him.”

  “No! Please don’t kill my Henry. He will be okay, just let the paramedics see to him when they get here,” she cried at me.

  “Bea, we just watched the news. This virus is everywhere and is spread through bites from the infected. Now, we both know he was bitten by one of those things and will try to spread the virus to us. It has already taken over his body and they don’t know if there is an antidote for it yet. I’m so sorry, Bea. It’s too late for him though. Leland, can you take her into another room please, she doesn’t need to see this,” I said as I raised the shotgun and aimed for his head. Leland crossed the room to move Bea into the bathroom beside them. She was hysterical and trying to get past him but she wouldn’t stand a chance being half his size.

  “Please, Autumn, you don’t have to do this!” she yelled at me, tears pouring out of her frantic eyes. Which made my throat tighten, and I felt that burn against the back of my own eyes.

  “Yes, unfortunately I do. I’ll be sorry until the day that I die for this Bea, but I can’t let him hurt us,” I told her in a strangled voice, getting close to losing my nerve. Leland got her into the bathroom and gently closed the door. I felt like a heartless bitch for having to do this, but there was no other choice besides letting him infect us and we all become rotting corpses, walking around eating people.

  I took a deep steadying breath and squeezed the trigger, only to hear an empty click. “Shit, I’m out of ammo,” I said to myself. Henry was slowly unraveling from the blankets, soon he would be on his feet and we would be in big trouble. Glancing around the room for a gun case, I spotted a closet behind me. If I were Henry, that’s probably where I would hide a gun case. I opened the door and pulled the chain hanging from the light. There was a box of shells on the top shelf of the gun case and he had 4 other guns with boxes of ammo for each one. The man’s closet was meticulously organized. My heart sank to my stomach while I popped the new shells into the gun, finally realizing what I was about to do. I snapped the barrel shut and walked back out into the bedroom.

  He turned, going for their side of the room again, on his hands and knees now. The sound of Bea sobbing loudly in the bathroom drew him in her direction. “Henry!” I shouted and stomped my feet to get his attention. He swung around at a turtle's pace and started for me. Steadying the gun against my shoulder, I got him in my sights and pulled the trigger before I could change my mind. The blast was deafening inside the house, compared to outside, and rocked me on my heels with the recoil. The butt of the gun jumped backwards, bruising my shoulder. The bullet hit him on the right side of the face and blew off half off poor Henry’s head. I managed to get my target the first time, which came as a shock. Even though my dad took me target practicing a few times in the past before he died, it still surprised me every time I got a bull’s eye. Dad wanted me to be able to take care of myself if the need ever arose. All of that practice was paying off now.

  Rita and Wanda heard the gunshot, not sure how they couldn’t, but they came running into the room. Wanda squealed and jumped like someone scared her from behind, tears starting to form in her eyes. Rita looked at me with a look of sympathy and grabbed Wanda’s hand, leading her to the library across the hall. Obviously, Rita was the less emotional one of the two.

  I stood there looking at Henry, or what was left of him, and scalding tears silently rolled down my cheeks. I only met him a short while ago and now he lay on the floor with his brain blown to pieces, by me. Blood and bits of him had sprayed across the footboard of the bed and floor around him. The sight of it all turned my stomach. “Leland, come here, please. But tell Mrs. Bea to stay in there for a moment,” I shouted towards the bathroom. I heard the click of the doorknob turning and Leland walked out, silently closing the door behind him. I could hear Bea still sobbing loudly. “Help me get him wrapped up in the blankets so we can put him on the bed,” I told Leland, as I grabbed the sheets from the floor to cover the body up.

  “Okay. Autumn, you didn’t have to do that yourself. I could have taken care of it,” he said as he helped me roll Henry up and lift him onto the bed.

  “I know. But it’s done and over with now. I did what needed to be done. I’ll have to learn to live with that or the guilt will just swallow me up whole. If this world is going to shit in a zombie outbreak, then I need to learn to separate myself from my feelings and do things I wouldn’t normally do.” We got the body wrapped up from head to toe and I was wiping the blood and bits off the floor and footboard with one of the towels they brought in earlier. Once I got everything cleaned up the best that I could, I went to the bathroom and opened the door. Only to find Bea sitting on the edge of the bathtub bawling her eyes out.

  “Oh, Bea… I’m so sorry. I didn’t want to do that.” I sat down and gently wrapped my arm around her. She leaned her head against my shoulder and sniffled, wiping her nose with a tissue.

  “I know you didn’t honey. I know it had to be done and I’m sorry that you were the one to do it. I just miss him so much already. Why did it have to happen to him?” she cried to me and all I could do was squeeze her small petite frame close and try to comfort her.

  “It seems we are under attack with a major virus and I’m afraid there is going to be a lot more death before they can get it under control. It’s tragic that Henry died this way, but I know if he could have communicated with us he’d say to put him down to keep you safe. He would have wanted us to save you at all costs,” I whispered softly to her, praying I said the words she needed to hear to help her get through this. Daisy came in and wandered over to us. She laid her head in Bea’s lap, and rolled those golden brown eyes up at her. Bea smiled at her and ran her fragile hand across Daisy’s head, petting her soft fur.

  “Such a sweet pup you have here, Autumn. You’re lucky to have her,” she said patting Daisy’s head. She wept for a long time, while I held her and whispered comforting things to help soothe her. I was heartbroken seeing such a sweet lady go through such a tragedy. It was all my fault, too. The guilt began chipping away at me and I felt like I could never go back from what I did.

  Once Bea felt all cried out, she stood up. “We have to get ready for the cavalry to arrive, right? Hopefully they can get rid of these monsters around here and we can get things back in order, and give Henry a proper burial,” she sobbed on the last part. I could tell she was trying to be strong but her grief was putting up a good fight.

  “Well, I hope they make it up here. The news says there are outbreaks everywhere so I have no clue when or if they will show up. In case we are on our own out here, we need to pull all of the guns out and load them up just to be safe,” I said as we walked out into the bedroom. I tried to shield her from the bed so she wouldn’t see the body. “So far none of them have figured out how to get up the steps to even try the doors or windows. Thank God you built this place so high off the ground or else we would be in major trouble. It’s been over an hour since I called 911 and they said within the hour someone should be here.”

  Leland must have overheard me because he was already in the closet grabbing the guns and ammo from the case. I helped him and we headed to library across the hall where Rita and Wanda were waiting. Last to leave the room, I took one last look at what was Henry just a moment ago, now just a body wrapped in blankets. I said a prayer and pulled the door closed behind me. Lord, help us all.

  Chapter 12

  Rita stood by the floor to ceiling windows gazing at the walking dead outside. She seemed very calm, like this was just another day at the office. Maybe she has seen a lot of dea
th in her life. She was a plump woman with skin the color of mocha and hair as black as the night, twisted up in a tight bun on her head. Slightly taller than I was, probably 5’5, she carried herself gracefully. A black cotton dress, hanging just below the knee, and a white apron tied around her waist with a few food stains, completed her uniform. She turned her chestnut colored eyes to meet mine.

  “Mr. Henry got that sickness, didn’t he? I seen his hand wrapped up so he musta been bit, right? That why you had to kill em’?” she asked with a southern accent also, guess she wasn’t from around here either.

  “Yes, ma’am. Henry was bitten by the infected woman we killed out by the patio. The news is calling it a lethal virus that gets passed on through a bite, and turns its victims into what you’re seeing out back. Henry turned and could have hurt Mrs. Bea and possibly the rest of us, so I made the decision to keep everyone safe. I hate it, but he had to die. It breaks my heart and I pray he’s resting in peace now. I’ve called the police and they should be on the way here but just in case they don’t make it, we need to get these guns loaded and ready to use if the worst happens. Do either of you know how to use a gun?” I questioned, looking from her to Wanda, who sat on the couch looking shocked.

  Her big, stormy gray eyes bulged like they would pop out at any minute. She had dark brown hair cut short in a bob, and appeared to be of Spanish descent; her skin the color of coffee with a splash of cream. Wearing the same thing as Rita on her petite frame, with less staining on her apron, she rambled in her native tongue. Bea grabbed her hand to calm her down.

  “English, Wanda, we can’t understand you. You need to speak English, dear,” Bea told her, patting the other woman’s hand.

  “I’m sorry, Mrs. Bea. I was just saying that my parents used to send me to summer camp when I was a young girl. They taught us how to shoot B.B. guns there. I kept the highest score in my camp, but that’s all the experience I have. It’s been years since I held a gun, but I still remember how to use one,” Wanda told us, finally starting to relax. Her hands trembled before but now she tried regaining her composure. Like thinking of better times long ago helped her come back to herself.

  “My grand pappy showed me a few times back in high school how to shoot a revolver. I wasn’t much good at it but I try my best to help out,” Rita said. She walked over to the chaise lounge and sat down crossing her ankles. “You two jus’ show me what I need to do.”

  So we all took turns loading the guns and practiced holding them correctly, even Bea joined us after a few moments of observing. We got everything loaded and each of us had a weapon now. Leland took the shotgun, since it has such a kick to it, and he is much stronger than I am. I grabbed the .22 Magnum rifle with a scope on it, which I’m guessing was Henry’s hunting rifle. Wanda got the 9 mm. pistol, Rita the .22 revolver and last but not least, Bea wielded the .380 pistol.

  I heard sirens in the distance, and a few moments later saw red and blue lights flashing around the property. “The police are here,” I yelled from the front lobby, looking through the window panes surrounding the main door. I watched two police cars pull up and four officers get out, starting for the front porch steps. Immediately, the horde outside appeared fast around the left corner of the Inn, and started for the cops. They must have heard the sirens and were ready for them when they got out. The porch light was the only thing helping to see them. I opened the front door to quickly get the officers inside, my gun tucked under my right arm. “Hurry up, get inside. They’re right behind you,” I frantically called to them.

  The first three officers made it up the steps and onto the porch, before the fourth one started screaming. They all spun around towards the sound of their fellow officer’s cries and pulled their guns smoothly from the side holsters. The horde had grabbed the last man and fell one after another on top of him, fighting each other to get a piece of him. He screeched loudly, “No! Please help me!”, and tried to push them away but there were just too many. Within seconds he disappeared under the pile of bodies. The men that safely made it to the porch started to fire into the zombies, “Howards!” one of them screamed at the fallen officer and shot angrily at the bodies, though it wouldn’t do any good unless he hit their heads. I readied my gun and stepped out to stand next to them and began shooting also. There were so many of them. The number had quickly grown from around thirty to almost double that now. We took down about fifteen of them before they all caught sight of us and tried for the stairs, stumbling over one another. Once they went down they just started crawling up the steps on hands and knees, not quite sure how to stand up on them.

  “C’mon, let’s get inside, quickly! There’s nothing we can do for him now,” one of them said. So I lowered my weapon and ran for the door, the officers at my back.

  We bolted the door shut and placed a long, heavy antique buffet against it. We made our introductions and got it out of the way. The man that went down and was, regretfully, now on the zombie menu was Deputy Phil Howards. Lieutenant Greg Whitmore had called out his name, tall and lanky with dirty blonde hair and hazel eyes. Then Sergeant David Stafford, with his bulging belly, stood my height with salt and pepper hair and frosty blue eyes. Lastly, with huge biceps and hovering over everyone, was Lieutenant Butch Fredericks. Bald as a baby’s bottom with eyes the color of deep blue seas and stood about 6’3, like a giant next to the rest of us. Ripped with muscles everywhere, his clothing looked like it would start busting stitches soon.

  “I’m so sorry about your fellow officer. I was worried someone else would get hurt,” I told them all, feeling compassion for their loss. He came out here to help us and died before he ever got the chance to even try.

  “Thank you, Miss Reed, but we knew what we were coming into before we got here. Howards was a good man. I just wish we could have saved him. God rest his soul. But we need to be prepared for the ambulance. They were just a few miles behind us. Is there somewhere we can cover their backs while they try to get in here, like an attic with a window, or roof access?” Stafford asked, looking at each of us for an answer.

  “Yes, sir. There is an attic with a small window and balcony outside of it, you can stand on the balcony but I wouldn’t put too much weight on it, not sure how well it will hold up to all of you,” Bea informed him in a soft, shaky voice.

  “Okay, that should work. If a few of you could cover from the second floor window facing the front that would help so we’re not all clustered into one area with weapons firing,” he explained, looking at me in particular, since he already saw me fire my gun and knew I was a decent shot.

  So the three officers, Leland and I all went up the stairway to the second floor. We found the small corner door with a winding staircase that went up to the attic. They headed up the steps to find the balcony, while Leland and I covered the large window facing the front of the Inn. We were getting our guns in place and saw the red flashing lights reflecting off of the surrounding trees along the road leading up to the Inn. A moment later the ambulance pulled into the drive, the zombies were still busy eating officer Howards to give any notice to them just yet. Once they parked, the driver rolled down his window when he saw us all watching with our guns poised ready to shoot from the window and balcony. Stafford called to him to stay in the vehicle until we get the area cleared.

  Someone flipped on all of the lights at the front of the building, to shine out on the front lawn where the ambulance sat and the zombies took notice of the others around to eat.

  Gunshots rang out everywhere. One by one we took the dead down. They fell into small piles on top of each other. Blood and meat flew everywhere. Arms blasted away from bodies, heads exploded like morbid watermelons, every shot caused some kind of damage to the walking corpses. A gruesome display to watch, but was even more nerve racking to take part in. So many bodies laying in heaps everywhere the lights beamed. With five shooters, it didn’t take but a few minutes to kill them all. Once we were sure there weren’t any more of them, the Sarge motioned the paramedics to exit
the van; now covered in gore from the blowback. We all pulled our guns back inside, Fredericks stayed at our window on the second floor to keep watch.

  “You guys are good shooters, that will come in handy more than you know,” he told us as he took up his post at the window. The rest of us went back downstairs to move the buffet from the door to let the paramedics inside.

  During the gunfire Wanda got scared again and in a panic, she tried to run into the kitchen, tripping over Daisy in the process and sprained her ankle. Poor Daisy looked apologetic, somehow knowing she was at fault in a way. She kept licking Wanda’s cheek and nudging her as if to apologize. Wanda patted her golden head while the medics checked her ankle and put ice packs on it. There were two of them, one woman and one man. The woman asked us, “We were told there’s a gentleman here that has been bitten, where is he so we can take a look at the bite wound?”

  Bea burst into tears again and rushed from the lobby area into the library down the hall, Rita followed her to offer comfort I’m sure. I felt so bad for her; wishing I could turn back time and save him from getting bitten. “He turned before you guys could get here and tried to hurt his wife, so we had to… deal with him. The body is in their bedroom in the far corner of the house on the bed. We plan to give him a proper burial when we’re sure the coast is clear,” I told them, tears starting to sting around the edges of my eyes. I tried not to let the emotion of what I did take over me. We didn’t have time for that. I must stay clear headed and help make sure everyone else stayed safe.

  “We’re sorry to hear that. I apologize we couldn’t make it here any sooner. Springsville is very short handed on all emergency personnel. This virus seems to be spreading faster than anything we have ever encountered. The hospital started checking people for bites and if they are infected they go straight to quarantine. The CDC finally made it and is working hard to come up with an antidote but they say it will be a lengthy process,” the female medic told us, while she wrapped up Wanda’s right foot and ankle. She had long bleach blonde hair, straight as an arrow, tied back in a ponytail and eyes the color of blueberries. She was very pretty and slender waisted. Her name badge read A. Myers, she told us her first name was Amanda. The male paramedic, Garrett, was very quiet and stood about Leland’s height with light brown hair the color of caramel and dark chocolate brown eyes.