No Man's Land

by Jacqueline Druga

  The second I grabbed the cord to do so, I couldn’t. It was my child. It was my job to protect him, to keep him safe, and to get him to a better place than a run-down shed.

  I would. With that thought, I severed the cord and the baby from his mother.

  Guilt consumed me for even thinking about it. I would mourn Leah and deal with her later, but first I had to care for my son. That was my priority.

  Recall

  45 Days Earlier

  July 19

  Martin was right. More than I wanted to believe, he called what was going to happen. I wanted to take Leah and leave, head to Montana, but within one month of Martin’s retirement party, things were totally different.

  Had we decided to leave just two days earlier, when Martin called and said, “Leave,” we would have been close. At least out of city limits. Airline travel was cancelled, trains stopped moving, and busses only travelled within certain limits.

  Major cities had been closed. Military moved in to keep law and order, and no one, absolutely no one, was permitted to leave. The only vehicles allowed in and out of the zones were delivery trucks and supplies.

  There were ways around the barricade and people took them. Delivery trucks were one way and people bought passage.

  Realistically, there was no way to barricade an entire city, unless of course it was Manhattan. I was fortunate not to be there.

  Close enough though, I was in Philadelphia. A small borough inside the city limits. All highways were closed down and a curfew was in effect at sundown.

  We were encouraged to go about our lives as normal as possible, and we tried.

  I watched the news a lot, as did most people. America’s version of bunker cities were less rumor and more fact. Pictures popped up daily on the internet. Large internment-style camps set up in the desert with high fences and huge water tanks. They were named Sanctuary Cities, each given a number.

  The government vehemently denied them, stating they weren’t needed. They swore the outbreak would be contained, or cured.

  I spoke and communicated with Martin frequently. He kept telling me to leave. That soon enough, the sporadic infected would become hoards.

  “Find an underground way,” Martin said. “You have maybe a week or two tops, before those are shut down. Once you are out of the major cities, getting a car will be easy and just avoid highways. You need to go soon.”

  “What if we can’t?” I asked.

  “Then you’re going to be trapped. It will get worse. You’re Region Three. You’re not getting out until they tap that region a dead zone and order evacuation for the Sanctuary City. Get out now before you can’t move on the streets.”

  “We haven’t been hit yet.”

  “You will. All populated areas eventually were hit.”

  By that, he meant hit with the virus.

  No one could really pinpoint how the infection spread. It was a given it spread person-to-person, saliva, blood, bite, scratch, sex. However, the scariest part was that it was airborne. It seemed to move in waves. Hitting an entire area at once. Like parasites carried in the wind. Ninety percent of the area would become infected instantly. More than likely that was the reason everyone believed at first it was a weapon dispensed.

  It was no weapon. It was a freak of nature. An extinction event. Labeled outbreak storms, the virus cloud, or whatever it was, would hit an area and then without warning, days later, maybe weeks, it would hit again. They weren’t really storms, no thunder and lightning happened, no tornado or dark cloud rolled by. Everyone just dropped. A storm was about the best analogy given and it stuck.

  Everything was given a name for ease.

  The infected garnished the name “Vees” by everyone who talked about them. They were everywhere. It was frightening at first but then it became commonplace. News alerts would tell of areas to avoid because of Vee infestation and areas that were hit by outbreak storms.

  Like war levels, there were Vee levels for an area. If one was spotted, the entire area was flagged.

  We were fortunate, we hadn’t actually seen one or watched a person die of infection. Other than on the news or the internet.

  CBS ran a special on what to do if you or a loved one was infected with the Vee virus. Hotline numbers were in place to call and report a Vee, and the curfew was in place to get them all.

  One would think a world besieged by plague and in a military state would be a chaotic one. People knew it was us against them. At least for the time being we were fighting together to live.

  They were different than the stereotypical ‘zombie’ depicted in movies. Some moved slow, some fast. Never any superhuman feats of strength. The Vee were more reflective of how they were in life. Some only attacked for food when hungry, some just plain attacked.

  I was working late, one of nine employees that remained in the company. Well, late by new standards. The city had hired any one that could to help run things. Our accounting firm handled the distribution inventory, and my bonus pay was rations.

  There was no stopping at the grocer on the way home. Everything was distributed and accounted for. I had my day that I went to the store. Everyone did. The days of freedom shopping were gone. Even though we were told to go about our lives, things were changing and fast.

  The curfew went into effect at seven in the evening. All internet services were blocked at that time and the only thing on television was the news.

  Thankfully, I had saved all those DVDs

  Finishing the day, I heard the alert of my phone. Figuring it was Leah asking what train I was taking, I lifted it. To my surprise, it was an alert from my bank, I was overdrawn.

  I didn’t know how that could be? I hadn’t used the account in days, not since distribution.

  Quickly, I went online and to my bank. The electric company payment cleared causing a deficit. It appeared earlier in the day, a huge withdraw had been taken out of the branch. Almost every dime we had.

  I wanted to call the bank, but they closed at three. I sat there wanting to pull out my hair. Money wasn’t important at that moment, but once the virus situation cleared up, it would be needed again.

  My cell phone rang, nearly causing me to jump from my skin.

  “Cal?” Leah called my name. “What train are you taking?”

  A nervous twitch hit me, how was I going to tell her someone wiped out our account? “The uh, five ten.”

  “Can you catch the four thirty?”

  “No, I have to finish up here.”

  “I need you to leave work early, Cal,” she said calmly. “I have us a way out.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “The Save a Lot truck. I bought us passage. It cost—”

  “Leah,” I cut her off. “Did you drain the account today?”

  “I did. It was the only way to get us out. We need to be at the warehouse by six thirty. We’ll wait in the truck until it’s ready to pull out.”

  “We can’t do that, Leah. It’s illegal.”

  “Too bad. We need to get to Montana. The truck will take us as far as Beaver County. My father will meet us there. We’ll head to Montana. We need to get to Martin’s place.”

  “Yeah, well, we should have gone when we had the chance. You didn’t want to.”

  “I want to now. Be home, Calvin. I love you, but I will go without you. This baby is my top priority.”

  Then she hung up.

  What was she thinking? Our suburb was safe, we were far enough out of the city and there had been zero reports of Vee in our area. Plus, our home was secure. Our house was on a small hill with a long set of stairs leading to the front door. The porch was easily blocked, and our first floor windows weren’t ground level. So even if Vee made it up the hillside, they couldn’t break through the windows. We had supplies. The news hadn’t spoke of Sanctuary City retreats. Leaving was a mistake, I believed it.

  However, I had to go where she went. Leah and the baby were my family. I hurriedly finished my work, and made i
t with a minute to spare, catching the four-thirty train.

  There was a strange and different feel to everything when I left work. It felt like a holiday, like the time I went to work on Thanksgiving. No one was around, no one on the streets.

  There were three other people on the train; they all got off before me.

  My stop was the last one, and when I disembarked, I saw the parking lot. It was empty. My car was the only one remaining.

  Had I missed something? Admittedly, I was so busy at work, I never listened to the news or checked it. Surely, Leah would have told me if something happened. I had my phone set up to receive Vee alerts. Nothing came through.

  There was a scary sensation around me, a deadness to the air, it just didn’t feel right. When I reached for the handle, I paused when the sound of air raid sirens blasted through the air. It wasn’t the first time I’d heard them. They were commonplace because they were a means to call upon the volunteer fireman in the area when there was a fire.

  These sounded different. Perhaps it was my imagination, but I felt they were different. I hurriedly got in my car and pulled from the lot.

  Instantly, I turned on the radio The Emergency Alert System was playing mid-cycle.

  “…urging citizens to remain in their homes and vigilant…” The robotic female voice said.

  I kept changing the station hoping to catch it, but it was the same message, played at the same time on all stations.

  Finally, it repeated.

  “This is the emergency alert system. This is not a test. Citizens of the greater Philadelphia and surrounding areas be advised. The area is under a level three warning…”

  Level three. That was the highest it could be. Usually we weren’t under even a level one. Never a level three. That meant that one of those waves of outbreaks finally hit our region. How many people were struck? Was it wide spread or sporadic?

  The automated message didn’t give that information.

  “Immediate infection outbreaks have been confirmed in the following areas …”

  The streets and areas were read off like a computer reading text to speech. As soon as I heard Powell Street in Springfield, I knew it was too close to home.

  The short two-mile drive to my house was an adventure, more like a video game. There was a mad rush to leave; cars were driving erratically and fast. Pulling out without stopping, running red lights. It was stop and go for me, dart and move. Holding my breath, hoping some car didn’t fly out from a side street and T-bone me.

  To go where? Another area? The current retreat and safety place was Springfield Mall. Were they all going there? Surely, they weren’t getting on the highway, it was blocked off, as were many of the main roads. Then again, I knew getting out of the city and area wasn’t an impossibility. There were side roads and lesser-known routes.

  Authorities advised people not to take those roads. They were jammed tight with vehicles and people ended up getting stuck when they ran out of gas. There were countless stories online. The worst happened outside of Boston. Citizens tried to escape, traffic came to a standstill and all it took was a few Vee and the gridlock quickly turned into an all they could eat buffet.

  I made it to my street, a small dead end road, where one side was the ‘flat’ side where the homes set flush with the road, the other the ‘high’ side where the homes were on a hill. Cars were whipping out of the driveways, backing up and speeding away.

  As soon as I pulled to the curb, I saw my neighbor loading his car.

  “You better get moving, Calvin,” my neighbor, Bill, yelled. “You don’t have much time.”

  I raced around my car and to Bill. “What’s going on? I didn’t hear anything. I was on the train.”

  “Outbreak storm hit all over. They say for a fact it hit the entire area north of Powell,” Bill said. “Authorities can’t get in there fast enough to get them all. So you know what that means. In about an hour, Vee will be everywhere. Get out now.”

  “And go where?” I asked.

  “East, south, they said Swarthmore is setting up a secure area. Anywhere but here, Powell is four streets over, Cal. Get your wife and get out.”

  “Don’t you think if we hunker down and wait until authorities clean up?”

  Bill laughed at me as he secured a bungee cord to the roof of his SUV. ‘If they don’t. You’re stuck here.”

  “Cal!” Leah called my name and I turned my head to see her on the porch.

  “Get your wife and go,” Bill said. “Now.”

  I nodded and rushed up the steps to my porch.

  “I tried to call you. I couldn’t get through,” Leah said. “I’m trying to pack.”

  “No,” I shook my head. “Just pack what we can in a backpack. The Save A Lot warehouse is only three miles south. Worse comes to worse, we can walk with a backpack for three miles.”

  “What about all of our stuff. We have so much.”

  “We lock it up,” I said. “We need to. In case we have to come back.”

  “Will we?” she asked.

  “You got us a ticket on that truck,” I said. “Hopefully, we’ll be out of here by nightfall.”

  We were out of the house in a few minutes. I swore it took longer for me to lock up than it did to pack the backpack. We didn’t need much. We just had to get out of the quarantine zone.

  The Save a Lot truck was parked just outside the loading docks. Several cars were parked behind the building and the rear end was open.

  Leah had explained that for three days she was working on getting us passage in the truck. He would take ten people, hidden behind a phony wall of boxes.

  I felt relieved when I saw it there, but unsettled because there was no one walking around.

  “Let’s just get in the truck,” I said, shutting off the car. “Do we have a secret code, a pass, what?”

  “I met with him this morning. He knows us.”

  We both opened our car doors at the same time and stepped out. I reached in, grabbed the backpack and tossed it over my shoulder.

  “Cal, something is not right.”

  “I know.”

  Where was everyone? The truck driver? The passengers?

  I wanted to call out, but I didn’t. As we moved closer to the tractor trailer we saw the first body.

  It was a man, a younger man. His lifeless body was contorted on the ground. His back arched with chest outward, his legs bent in different directions as if he fell from a huge building.

  I knew the look; I saw it on the news enough. The white pasty skin with dark blotches. The bleeding from the eyes, nose, and mouth.

  Holding out my arm, I stopped Leah. “Stay here. Get ready to run back to the car.”

  I nudged the man’s body with my foot. He was hard. I walked closer to the back of the truck.

  More bodies were in there.

  “Shit.” I spun around to Leah. “The Storm hit here. Who knows when and how long we have. We have to get out.”

  “The truck,” Leah pointed. “It has permission to leave. Are the keys inside?”

  It was a good idea. Take the truck and roll out. The only problem was, what to do with the ten or so bodies in the back. Take a chance and precious time to move them out?

  Again, I told her to stay back near the car as I moved to the cab of the truck.

  I wasn’t short, but I wasn’t a tall man and I couldn’t see up inside the cab. I climbed on the side step and reached for the door.

  Before I even opened it, a Vee suddenly appeared inside, snarling and biting the window. His hands smacked hard against the glass in his plight to get at me.

  I stumbled and tripped in my shock, landing on my backside. I cringed in pain and rolled to my side.

  “Leah,” I called out. “Get in the…”

  Leah screamed. I was instantly hit with energy to get to my wife. I rolled to a stand, grabbed the backpack and headed toward the scream.

  I expected her to be by the car, after all that was where I told her to go. Yet, she was
near the truck, backing up as the Vee headed her way.

  “Run, Leah, to the car.”

  She was too scared to move, I could see it on her face. I barged forward, swinging the backpack, hitting the Vee as I did, until I made my way to her.

  “Move!” I ordered, grabbing her arm and pulling her to the car.

  She kept screaming, and her screams attracted more.

  It wasn’t just the ten or so who came from the truck, Vee came from behind the warehouse and across the lot.

  None of them were those passive ones I had heard about.

  I shoved her in the car and raced around to my side, just as four or five Vee hit our car. One threw himself on the hood and began banging his head and hands on the glass.

  I had to hurry, there literally was no time. After starting the car, I put it in gear, jerked the wheel, and hit the gas.

  Hood ornament Vee flew off and I careened into another one sending her flying.

  There had to be at least five that I hit. The bangs and thumps against the car as I connected and the jolt of the wheels, as if going over a speed bump, when I ran them down told me so.

  We managed to get out of that lot. Leah was hysterical. Surprisingly, I remained calm.

  “It’s okay. We’re fine.” I grabbed her hand. “We’re good.”

  I had been holding my breath and released it slowly. My heart raced out of control, but for the sake of my wife I had to appear confident and unshaken.

  We made it from the lot but we weren't in the clear. Vee were in packs at every corner we turned. If we made a left, we had to back up or make another left.

  It was as if we were in a maze, being led one place to another. That place was our home. We couldn’t go forward, we had to go back. We didn’t have a choice.

  Name

  September 2

  He was naked and prefect, probably cold and it broke my heart that I instantly loved him so much. I wanted not to. I didn’t want to feel a connection to my son. Not in this world.