The Dead Don't Bleed: Part 1, The Outbreak

by S. Ganley

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  Miranda was gasping for air by the time she finally reached the front corner of Mr. And Mrs. Carpenter's home. The combination of running when she hadn't exercised in years along with the building smoke clogging up the air had made the escape from her own building seem like miles instead of just over a hundred or so yards. Her right calf had started to cramp up during the last stretch between the far edge of the parking lot and the corner of the house and she had more or less been forced to limp the remaining distance. She wanted to stop at that point to catch her breath and use the cover of the house to make sure the surrounding area was clear before she made the last several feet to the front door. Raising her arms high above her head she tried to use an old runner’s trick to open up her lungs to full capacity and suck in more of the cleaner air further away from her burning building. She pushed her back against the side of the house and caught sight of how much further the flames had spread during her run. She couldn't see any of the windows on the back of her apartment from the angle she was at but she was certain that the fire had now reached the far end of the building which meant that her apartment must be fully ablaze at this point. It tugged at her heart strings to see that row of buildings going up in smoke, not so much for her own sake since she had not really had much time to form any kind of attachment to the place, but she thought of the Carpenters and all the obvious love and care they seemed to sink into the place and what a loss it was going to be for them to see a good portion of it razed to ashes.

  Turning away from the fire, she eased back to the edge of the house and was just working her way around the corner when her eyes fell on someone hunched over on their hands and knees just past the steps leading to the front door. The woman had her back to Miranda and it looked as though she was rummaging through something on the ground just out of her sight. As she tentatively moved further from the edge of the house and slowly approached the front steps she realized it was Mrs. Carpenter and a flood of relief coursed through her body. She picked up her pace and was just about to call out to the older woman when the bare foot and bottom half of a man’s leg came into sight sticking out from underneath the woman. Miranda stifled the scream that was building in her throat and stopped dead in her tracks. Mrs. Carpenter must have sensed something as she turned her head sharply to the right and studied the steps and porch in front of the front door for a moment but didn't look far enough to the side to spot Miranda standing like a statue on the edge of her front lawn. Before she turned her attention back to what she had been doing, Miranda had a clear look at the side of the woman’s blood spattered face and she had no doubt exactly what the source of that blood was. The naked leg she saw peeking out from under Mrs. Carpenter must have been from her husband and Miranda had wandered up just in time to witness what had only a day earlier been a sweet and kindly older woman now feasting on the remains of her own husband. Taking tentative and cautious steps backward she retraced her steps until she reached her hiding spot on the edge of the house. Once she was out of sight of the grisly scene she felt her knees starting to get weak as the fear began to once again take hold of her. She clenched her eyes hard and concentrated on keeping herself steady on her feet, losing it here would more than likely leave her open to becoming Mrs. Carpenter's second course. She let the fear take hold of her for only a minute before finally pushing it back deep inside her and summoning up the smallest ounce of courage to allow herself to start thinking clearly again. Her plan had been to reach the Carpenter's for help, from that point she had not thought any further ahead and she certainly had not considered an alternative plan if she was to find Mr. Carpenter already dead and his wife dining on the remains like a starved vulture.

  Miranda studied her surroundings looking for something that may help her decide what her next move should be, running back further into the complex was out of the question. The fire was still burning unchecked and the smoke in that direction had become so thick that she would more than likely run into the group of crazies she had first spotted outside her apartment window. That left her with moving off to her left, from where she was now standing there was a service road and several large dumpsters as well as a utility shed only a few yards away. Beyond the service road she could just see one corner of a gas station on the opposite side of the boulevard that passed by her housing complex. She remembered passing the gas station in the cab on her way back from shopping. When she saw it earlier it looked like it was a place that stayed fairly busy with its good location at a busy intersection. The building consisted of a convenience store as well as a small diner and had a place for trucks to park along one side. She saw several cars along what should be a bustling street clogged with morning commuter traffic, but none of them were moving and it looked as though their drivers had just stopped in the middle of the street and abandoned their cars in place. She wasn't sure what to make of the traffic jam but seeing no one around either on the street or the gas station she decided to try her luck inside the little store and hope that either someone there could help her or she could find a phone that would get her in touch with the authorities.

  Taking several deep breaths she worked up the courage to start herself moving again and made a dash across the service road to a point just behind the dumpsters where she could scan either way up and down the street. Turning to the east she saw another column of dark billowing smoke rising high into sky behind a strip mall at the next intersection. That fire looked as though it was much bigger than the one at her own apartment building, she wasn't sure what types of structures might have been over there but with the general layout of the area with stores bordering the street and houses and apartments back a little further she thought that even more homes were going up in flames. On the far end of the long strip mall in that direction she could see a crowd of people, maybe close to thirty or more all seemingly milling about aimlessly between the stores and cars parked in the street directly in front of them. They were close to two full blocks away from her and she couldn't make out much in terms of details but she remembered the aimless manner in which the small crowd of crazies in front of her own apartment had been walking through the parking lot before they set their sights on her neighbor and the injured man she had helped escape her burning building. Miranda had little doubt that they were all in the same homicidal mind sight as the others in front of her apartment as well as poor Mrs. Carpenter. With the building smoke from the fire at her own apartment building and the one just past the strip mall the entire street was cloaked in a low lying fog that she felt confident would be enough to hide her as she made the dash across to the gas station. She did consider the fact that the smoke also prevented her from seeing inside the gas station through the front windows and that she could very well be running into a store full of more of the same deranged people. She had decided that the risk was worth taking given the alternative of remaining outside in the open where it was just a matter of time before one of them spotted her. Using a concrete barrier behind the dumpsters as a step, she hoisted herself up to peer over the rim of the metal container in search of anything she could use as a makeshift weapon just in case she did happen to come face to face with one of them. The first two dumpsters were full of general household waste, nothing that she could conceivably make use of and from the smell inside them even the threat of being eaten alive was not going to get her to dive down into the bowels of either trash bin. From her perch over the top of the dumpsters she could see that the third one in line contained discarded construction supplies and that seemed like her best candidate for a potential weapon. Working her way carefully down the rim of the containers she found what she was looking for propped up against the upper lip of the dumpster, a three foot long piece of solid metal rebar. Pulling the rusted metal bar from the trash she was pleased to note that one end of it had been cut rather crooked leaving behind a jagged piece of metal with a nice pointed tip. It would work well either to bash some skulls or as a stabbing weapon, giving her some flexibility in responding if she
was attacked or cornered.

  Violence was not in her nature, she could remember the one real fight she had ever had in her life and that was back in Middle School when a pair of black girls had singled her out for no special reason to start picking on one afternoon in the lunch room. She had tried her best to ignore them but her lack of response to their insults only egged them on even more and before long they started slapping and spitting at her. Miranda could see where the altercation was going and when she realized that no one was going to step in and stand up for her she decided that she wasn't about to let those two ghetto bitches take her down without a fight. She had beat both girls down bad enough that they had spent the night in the hospital and she had spent several hours at the police station with her parents arguing the case against a detective and school administrators that it was self-defense. In the end a deal was struck where no charges would be filed but Miranda would have to finish that year and the following year at a Middle School in a neighboring county. That had been her last real physical altercation but from that one incident she always knew deep down that when push came to shove she would do whatever needed to be done to defend herself.

  Jumping down from the back of the dumpster with the length of rebar in her hand, she moved into a small cluster of bushes separating the row of trash containers from the street behind them. She checked again on the group of people on the far end of the strip mall and thought that it looked like their numbers had grown in that last few minutes, but they still appeared content to remain in that one area for the time being. Looking down the opposite side of the street she saw only empty cars and barren store fronts, nothing that seemed to pose any threats. The weight of the metal bar in her hands gave her an extra boost of confidence and with a couple deep breaths she stepped from the row of bushes and darted across the street dodging in between abandoned cars as she ran. She had made it to the last lane of traffic before reaching the edge of the gas stations parking lot on the opposite side of the street when movement inside a car she was just about to run past caught her attention. It was a newer model small SUV, the inside was adorned with high back leather seats and a pair of drop down television screens for the entertainment of passengers in the back, she had approached the vehicle from an angle that let her see one of those screens was still on but only showing static at the moment. What had caught her attention was the figure still strapped into an over the shoulder seat belt in the back seat just behind the front passenger seat, it was a young man, Miranda thought maybe in his early twenties or very late teens. He was dressed in a smart looking suit along with what looked like a very expensive silk neck tie. He had clearly seen Miranda as she was making her way across the street and it was likely that her movements were what had caught his attention. Struggling against the seatbelt he was reaching out with both hands clawing at the air while snapping his teeth like an angry dog, streams of frothing white bubbly drool were running down his chin from both sides of his mouth and Miranda could just make out his irate snarls as he tried desperately to break free and reach out for her. She watched him for several moments and realized that whatever it was that had made Mrs. Carpenter and the others turn into demented cannibal killers, this is what the face of that illness must look like. All the kid needed to do was unlatch his seat belt and open the door and he could have been on top of her in seconds, but she understood while watching him from several feet away that he no longer possessed even an ounce of intellect that would allow him to figure those steps out on his own. Miranda side stepped around the SUV keeping her eyes trained on the young man still struggling to reach out for her from the back seat, as she moved in an arch around the front of the vehicle he continued to turn his body in line with her, never letting up his efforts to grab for her. Only when she felt her feet strike the curb at the edge of the sidewalk did she allow herself to turn her back on the pitiful scene and resume a faster paced walk towards the front doors of the gas station.

  The double glass doors were both standing open, the glass having been completely shattered from the frames was laying in crushed piles both inside and outside the store entrance. Peering carefully through the glass front window she swept her eyes across the interior of the store before moving closer to the door. From her vantage point she could see no one moving around inside but there was also several places including behind the counter and the freezer area where surprises could easily be waiting for her. Grasping tightly to her metal bar she held it against her shoulder like a bat ready to swing it viciously at the first living creature that tried to surprise her. The broken glass from the door crunched under her feet and for the first time she realized that without the sounds of Monday morning traffic, customers coming and going as well as the normal everyday din of life, it was unnervingly quiet all around her. While the thought of the missing noise of civilization going on about its normal course of the day was somewhat disturbing, she realized that it also gave her an advantage. If the people afflicted by whatever it was causing them to go insane were just as mentally dull as the young man she has watched stuck in the back of that SUV by a simple seatbelt, then odds were good they would not be making any efforts at a stealthy attack or a planned attempt to remain out of sight if there was someone threatening still inside the store. She stopped in her tracks just inside the door and listened closely for a full minute, the only sound she could detect was from the humming of the refrigeration units and a slight electrical buzz from the overhead fluorescent lighting. Moving slowly she rounded the first aisle of salty snacks and sugary cookies on her way to the counter, as soon as she spotted the pair of legs jutting out from a point just around the far end of the aisle she froze once more while swiveling her head from side to side searching the farthest reaches of the shop for signs of life. She continued to hear nothing moving or any other sounds that an attacker may be lying in wait somewhere nearby. The legs she had seen remained perfectly still and lifeless and she finally convinced herself that she had more than likely discovered a dead body, the thought sent a wave of nausea coursing through her that she fought hard to repress. She actually found it unsettling that after all she had witnessed in the last hour that a single lifeless body would be the one thing that triggered her body to act with such revulsion. Under any other normal circumstance coming across a corpse would have more than likely resulted in that expected response, but she had seen folks actually eating people alive not long ago and she figured that if she didn't spew last night’s dinner at that sight, then she could handle whatever it was she was about to see around the corner of that rack of chips and cookies. As she moved closer, more and more of the body became visible and after her fourth step forward she saw the first signs of pooled blood spreading out from the body on the floor in a growing puddle. She saw that it was a man, she guessed a migrant worker from the tattered jeans and telltale flannel shirt that was out of season and many years out of date, he was face down on the ground so it was impossible to tell much more about him, but when she saw the size of the exit wound blown from the back of his skull she was eternally grateful not to see the ruined face where the bullet entered. There was something distinct about his skin tone that she now realized was different than the crazy ones she had seen, his skin had the normal suntanned brown that you would expect from someone who spent most of their time working outdoors. The others she had seen who had shown signs of being sick and crazed had all had a yellowish sickly color to their skin, something she hadn’t really recognized until seeing the man lying dead at her feet right then. She believed that he had probably not been like the others and instead been shot by mistake by someone in a moment of panic. From the angle the man was laying and judging by the location of several pock marks in the wall behind him from apparent bullet strikes, she guessed that the shooter had been standing near the cash register on the counter. Seeing many shelves that were bare of goods, a display rack knocked completely over resulting in cans of beer strewn up and down two other aisles and the smashed front doors, she thought that she was seeing t
he end result of a looting and this man had most likely been shot by the store clerk in an attempt to defend his store.

  Miranda walked over to the doorway that led behind the counter and peered around the corner expecting to see either another body or a scared clerk hiding just out of sight and holding a large hand gun pointed at her head. She found the counter empty instead. There were signs of a struggle though, the cash register had been pulled from the counter and was laying smashed and empty on the ground alongside another generous pool of drying blood. The racks of cigarettes that had been stored behind the counter were almost completely empty except for several brands of menthols and she also noticed that the magazine rack with the adult’s only logo on it had been emptied of its contents as well. She found herself stifling a laugh as she thought of how stupid some people could be, coming into a store to loot it in the middle of a major crisis and taking things like porno magazines.

  The little laugh at the absurdity of the situation went a long ways to helping Miranda feel a little better about her situation. She up righted the overturned stool behind the counter and pulled it further back down the back side of the work area where she could sit out of sight from the front of the store while still able to observe in three directions if anyone started to approach. After situating herself to keep watch of her surroundings she pulled the phone from the wall receiver and dialed the emergency line, hopeful that a land line would somehow have better luck than her cell, it rang only once before only an insistent busy signal greeted her. She slammed the receiver back down in frustration, one of her biggest hopes in reaching this store was that she would be able to contact some form of authority for help. Rifling through the drawers behind the counter she found a junk drawer with a local area phone book buried under an assortment of tools and parts. Miranda opened the book to the inside front cover and found it full of local emergency and non-emergency numbers for all the various services in the region. It took her over fifteen minutes of trying to go almost all the way through the list calling each number in turn before giving up. A mix of prerecorded messages, unanswered lines, voice mail and constant busy signals was all she got from the numbers she tried. A feeling of isolation and despair was rapidly starting to sweep over her as the realization took hold that whatever she had witnessed happening in this small section of town may actually be a much more wide spread and ongoing problem than she had anticipated. She flashed back to the scene at the airport just after her arrival, the sick passengers and the gunshots ringing out through the terminal building. The theories of the shoppers watching the television news reports outside the electronics store the day before and how one of them had bellowed on about a possible act of terrorism. That theory had struck her as a sensationalist type of view mixed with a degree of paranoia when she had first heard it, but now she thought that it might actually have a certain ring of truth to it. They were close enough to Washington, DC that any large scale attack on the capital could easily spread into the townships nearby. She knew little about chemical and biological weapons but the symptoms she had witnessed so far could possibly be explained by weapons of those types being used in this region. She now started to worry that she had also been exposed to the same germs that was making everyone else go crazy, but she felt fine and thought that it was possible she had some kind of natural immunity to the illness. Shaking her head against the flood of thoughts that she had allowed herself to delve into she told herself she was not going to go down that path, what if's and maybe's could quickly turn her into a blabbering idiot incapable of fending for herself. There was a rational explanation for the situation as well as why she was not affected like everyone she had seen so far, the authorities were likely out in the community working on the problem and thus unable to respond to phone calls. She felt that at the moment she was relatively safe from discovery and had a good position to watch for potential threats or even rescue as long as she just stayed put. She settled in against the back of the chair while keeping a tight grip on the metal bar in her hands and began slowly and methodically scanning the approaches to the store. She would stay put for as long as she could and just hope that someone who could help would eventually come along.