I grabbed one of Leah’s shirt form the pack and after using the drinking water to clean him, I swaddled him tightly.
He’d need to eat soon. I was glad Leah and I came up with a contingency should he be born on the run, and Leah unable to feed him.
I’d break out that bottle soon enough, but he wasn’t fussy or crying. He kept staring at me, trying to focus. I could tell. His little mouth opening and closing, as he produced the quietest of newborn whimpers.
I just wanted to hold him and stare right back. Believe for a moment that all was right in the world. It wasn’t and I had another problem to face.
Leah.
She had been bitten and she had died. It was only a matter of time before she rose.
Leah was my wife for a decade; I loved her like no other and believed she was the heartbeat of my existence. Now, she was gone. I was angry because I couldn’t even mourn her. Couldn’t take time to break down and cry because I had to think about how to put her down.
She was still on her side, the lower half of her body naked and painted in blood. The umbilical cord extended from her and I could see the placenta partially expelled.
She died right after giving birth. Collapsed and died. I knew because not only wasn’t there a sound, there was no more free flowing blood.
A part of me believed I needed to do something before she woke up. It seemed wrong and like a desecration. Almost as if a part of me was hoping she wouldn’t wake up.
I didn’t even know how I would accomplish it, what I would use. How would I do it with a baby in my arms? I couldn’t put him down, what if she lunged and got him?
Whatever way I picked it wasn’t going to be easy.
Since the outbreak in my town, I had run from many Vee. I fought off and distracted more than I could count. Yet, I killed only a handful. It wasn’t for lack of trying, I did try.
Taking out the Vee wasn’t easy. Not emotionally or physically. The only way to kill a Vee was to destroy the brain. It was harder than it sounded. At the point when a Vee just turned, they were still solid. The flesh hadn’t rotted. Sharp objects didn’t go easily through bone and breaking a skull is not a piece of cake. An ax or hatchet was ideal, but they were difficult to maneuver or swing. If you didn’t get them the first time, your next delivery would lose strength.
I didn’t have a gun, even I if did, the shot would attract more Vee. Experts claimed the best weapon was a knife. Use it through the eye or temple.
Again, another situation easier said than done. The knife wasn’t ideal.
It plunges into the soft flesh with ease. It was creepy and caused me to get physically squeamish and shiver. Much like fingernails down a chalkboard. The movies had it all wrong. There was no aiming a gun at a loved one when you knew they were infected. You feel bad for a moment and then bang. It wasn't that easy. Anyone you knew was hard to take out. It was hard to see that they weren’t anything more than sick human beings. Even a crazy neighbor, no one immediately went for the kill, it was instinctive to avoid them and run….
That was how it got out of control. No one wanted to kill someone they knew and loved.
I was no different.
I didn’t want to kill Leah again. My choice was gone, I didn’t have one.
She stirred some, then opened her eyes.
Recall
3 Days Earlier
August 31
There was a learning process, an educational window before the world shut down. Most people were too busy running trying to find a safe place, and they never paid attention.
We did.
After the insanity at the warehouse, we managed to make it home. There wasn’t any rash movement of Vee, like Bill had said, the streets were pretty calm. We actually felt relatively safe, only a few times were there instances of Vee coming after us. It was during one of these times, I killed my first one.
He was on our porch, the only one to make it up. Fearful that he was going to get in, I grabbed a baseball bat and stepped out to confront him. It wasn’t my slug of the bat that killed him. I ended up hitting his shoulder and he flew backwards down the steps, landing with a final crack of his skull on the concrete.
We had so much food, so many supplies. We contemplated staying.
For the first two weeks, the news played constantly. The fed us information and we learned it. The internet went down right away so the news was our source.
The Vee were their most violent when they were infected directly with the airborne virus. The virus caused the lungs to bleed, the bronchial tub to swell and the victim, unable to breathe drops where they are.
Within minutes they are dead.
An hour later… they rise.
The worst ones. Those who were bitten or infected via secondary route were more docile and didn’t tend to attack on instinct, they only attacked for food.
They all had one thing in common… they were dead.
Just after the television went off, Leah and I went into great lengths discussing what we should do. We really wanted to stay, at least until the chaos subsided and the world went quiet. Getting away and out of the city would be easier.
Then came the drop.
We heard the plane first and were worried that it would attract Vees. When we looked out to see if any were coming, we watched sheets of paper rain down from the sky.
An old-fashioned method of getting the message out.
The flyers were our warning to leave.
It also was the first official confirmation of Sanctuary Cities. Ours was number sixteen and in Morehead, Kentucky. I immediately pulled out a map. It was located about fifty miles east of Lexington and I could see by the map why it was chosen. It was easy to seal off the highways in and out and it was nestled in the mountains.
That was well over six hundred miles to travel. Though it was closer than Montana. Even though my vehicle was more of a wagon than car, I got good mileage. I had enough fuel, confidently, to make it nearly three hundred miles. That was half way there. There were places listed as transportation hubs to the city. Dates to be there by. Perhaps I could get to one of those.
Our Sanctuary City was scheduled to shut its gate and take in no more survivors after September 30.
With nearly a month to get there, it was more than doable. We couldn’t piss around though, because the flyer also warned our region was scheduled for Vee mass extermination two weeks before the gate shut down.
I knew what that meant. We had to get out.
There were a few cars remaining on the street, and I syphoned what I could from their gas tanks. I knew fuel would eventually be a problem. We packed our vehicle, I believed we were smart. We had enough time to think ahead, what we would need, down to the baby supplies. We grabbed one of those carriers that went over the back or chest, just in case we had to walk. We even stole the neighbor boy’s red Radio Flyer wagon. Never did we take for granted that we wouldn’t have to eventually move on foot.
That small hatched cargo area was jammed packed. With the exception of the fuel cans there was nothing we could carry and fit in that Radio Flyer.
The first day out went well and was pretty easy. Avoiding the highways, we took mostly back roads and made quite a bit of distance.
We saw a lot of Vee. As we drove by them they’d extend their arms like dead hitchhikers.
We didn’t however see people.
None that were alive, anyway.
Had they all died, or were they tucked away safely in a sanctuary city? Admittedly, Leah and I were behind the eight ball. We stayed when others pulled out.
I thought for sure that somewhere around Interstate 68 we’d hit some free and clear roadway. From a distance, it looked good, but when we actually drove the highway, we saw how bad things were.
One side of the highway was at a standstill. I stepped out to take a look at the sea of abandoned cars.
But they weren’t really abandoned. The smell of rotting flesh filled the air and the humidity made it worse. Body parts str
ewn across the road. Partially eaten corpses were half out of their cars. Probably bitten and beaten down when they attempted to flee.
“What now?” Leah asked. “Turn around?”
I shielded my eyes from the sun and peered around. The other side of the highway didn’t look quite as bad. That was the route we’d go.
Cautiously, so as not to cause damage, we drove across the wide-open median, making it to the other side. From there we got a good thirty miles until we had to stop again.
I didn’t worry, there were maybe ten cars.
After getting out of my own vehicle, I examined the scene. It wasn’t a traffic jam, but an accident. A large white pick-up was on its side blocking half the road. Directly before it, cutting off any way to pass, was a little blue car.
The rest just created a chain reaction fender bender. It was more than that. The Vee had passed through. More carnage was on the roadway, flies buzzed over the remains and I heard a slurping sound.
“Cal?” Leah called my name.
“Stay in the car,” I told her.
“What are you doing?”
“I just need to move that blue car and we can get through.”
“I’ll help.” She had stepped from our car and leaned against the hood.
“Leah, please. Get back in the car and shut the doors.”
“Why?” She lifted her hands. “It’s fine. No one’s around.”
I knew that wasn’t the case, because that slurping sound continued. I walked slowly through the line of wrecked cars. We could get through, all I had to do was move that blue car. Then my foot hit something and I looked down. Immediately, I was sick to my stomach. It was bloody, tiny shoe. Just beyond it was a doll, a pink backpack and more ‘child’ items. I wondered if they had been in the one and only minivan on the road.
As I passed it, I saw the door was open and I promised myself I wouldn’t look. That was until I realized that was where the slurping sound came from.
I paused only a second, looking side-eyed into the van.
Inside was a child, a boy of maybe eight. His hair was probably light, but it was hard to tell with the blood matted to some of it. His face was gray with purple spots and streaks of veins, his eyes translucent. He held in his hand some sort of organ and he gnawed and slurped it like corn on the cob. When he saw me, he lifted his eyes and snarled at me.
I kept on walking.
From what we heard on the news, an eating Vee was a safe Vee until they needed more food.
He was preoccupied and that blue car was right there.
I approached the car, listening for the slurping in case it stopped. The driver’s door was open, there was no one inside and the key was in the ignition. After checking back to make sure van boy wasn’t coming, I tried to start the car.
Nothing.
I moved the key in the ‘on’ position, shifted the gear to drive, and holding on to the frame of the driver’s door, I pushed the car. It wasn’t hard and once it moved, it moved directly to the side of the road, and the momentum of the slope took over and the car rolled down the grade.
“Yes,” I said with a victorious smile. Then I realized the slurping had stopped.
I spun around quickly. Where was he? I didn’t see him or hear him.
How stupid was I? I walked away from my car without a weapon or means of defense.
After grunting, “Shit,” I assessed how far away from my car I was. Thirty feet maybe? I could run, get in and drive out of the situation.
Then I saw Leah get out again.
What was she doing?
Shaking my head I hurried her way, but half way there, I saw it before she did. A little girl Vee was to her left on the side of the road. The child wore a blood stained white tee shirt and purple shorts.
At that moment, I ran. “Get in the car! Now!” I shouted.
“Why?”
Why? Why would she even take a second to ask? I was running, I was screaming. Was she that much in denial? Before I even arrived, before I guess she could process my yelling, Vee Girl lunged at Leah and latched onto her arm. The force of the child knocked Leah a bit off her balance and into the side of the car.
She screamed and tried to pull the child from her.
As I ran, I watched the struggle and saw Van Boy. He ran my way, but wasn’t fast enough. We crossed paths and I arrived at Leah.
She screamed at the top of her lungs, loud and shrill. I grabbed Vee Girl and whipped her small body as hard as I could from Leah. She pulled the flesh right from Leah’s arm, and had it in her mouth. Blood poured out of my wife and I tossed the child. She didn’t weigh much, and my adrenaline fueled my strength. Vee Girl landed with a ‘thud’ on the road.
I shoved a hysterical Leah in the car and raced around to my side.
Van Boy arrived.
Hurriedly, I got inside as the boy leapt on the hood of my car. I jolted the car in gear and slammed the gas causing him to roll off.
I couldn’t move very fast, it was an obstacle course of vehicles. Carefully, I drove around the cars, looking in my mirror. The Vee children had collected themselves and were following. The little girl’s leg dragged behind her.
Leah cried, and there was nothing I was able do at that moment to help her. I had to get free and clear and to the open side of the road. Once I did and we were safe, I’d pull over and see what I should do.
Bottom line was, she had been bitten and other than trying to stop the bleeding, there wasn’t much more I could do.
Choice
September 2
I couldn’t do it.
When Leah smoothly rolled from her side to a sitting position and looked at us, I cringed and froze. Then I thought, You know what? This is it. This is how it ends.
I prepared to die holding my newborn son because I just couldn’t kill Leah. I had weapons, not a gun, but weapons: a huge wrench, a hammer, a bat. All of which were at my disposal, none of which I could bring myself to pick up against her.
How? How do I just simply bash in the brains of someone I loved?
I cradled the baby into my chest, lowered my head to his and waited.
Then it was easy. Leah wasn’t violent. She didn’t lunge at us. It was almost as if a part of her knew us and remembered us. Then she became preoccupied with the placenta that slipped from her body. She lifted it and slowly began to consume it.
We weren’t on the menu at that moment. It gave me time to figure out what I was going to do.
Keeping her - for lack of a better word - alive, had its advantages. I always knew the Vee could hear and see us. I theorized they could smell or sense us. That theory was somewhat proven true when Leah reanimated. From that moment on, the viciously attacking Vee started to leave. The ones that reached in through the broken walls and tried to get us, tried no more. It could have been, as I predicated earlier, because we were quiet and Leah wasn’t screaming. A part of me believed not only could they not hear us, they couldn’t smell me and the baby, so they moved on.
That left one problem solved, the other was nightfall. We couldn’t go anywhere until the sun came up. Simply because I couldn’t see a foot in front of me at night.
That shed was only going to get darker. I wouldn’t have worried about it so much, had it not been for Leah and worrying what she was going to do once she finished her placenta.
In the dark, my eyes wouldn’t adjust. I wouldn’t see her coming at all.
I had to chance it and use the small, round, battery operated closet light I had. It didn’t give a lot of light, but enough for me to watch Leah.
I had to pick my battles. Take a chance of sitting in the dark or having the Vee outside see the light.
Without sound or scent, I was hoping the light didn’t draw them in. Maybe they moved on. They did that. After failing at a food source, they eventually walked off.
I’d deal with them in the morning.
The car wasn’t that far, but with the overcast sky and no moon I couldn’t see it. I hoped at firs
t light no Vee would be outside and I could make a quick escape.
As the hours passed the temperature dropped. All I could do was sit there shivering, holding the baby, hammer at my side, while I watched Leah and waited for her to attack.
Chase
September 3
I gave my son a name. I called him Edward. The baby’s name was always a source of contention between Leah and myself. She wanted to name the baby one of those names that no one ever pronounced correctly. I wanted to give the child something old-fashioned, like John or Jill. I thought ahead to their old age and what name would be fitting for a senior citizen.
Now it didn’t matter. Chances were, Edward would probably never see his first birthday. Not in this world.
The tiny circle light was enough and I kept my eye on Leah. When I realized she wasn’t immediately attacking after her placenta meal, I pulled the duct tape from the bag, set the baby on my jacket and ripped a long piece. Carefully I approached her. She perched on her knees and moved her head my way, snapping her jaws in my direction, trying to bite me.
I was ready for her to lunge, but she never did and I took advantage of that. When I felt confident, I placed the strip of duct tape over her mouth.
She shook her head violently, trying to shuck the tape. While she did that, I bound her hands. Then after the initial taping, I reinforced.
I didn’t know how much was left in her brain, but common sense was gone. Not once did she reach up her hands to her mouth.
After several minutes of thrashing and tossing herself around, Leah gave up. Almost in defeat, she sat back down on the ground.
I suppose it was wrong to duct tape her. To let her suffer. But I just couldn’t bring myself to kill my wife.
Dead, alive, infected, whatever… she was still my wife.
It would have been physically simple to grab the hammer, walk over and smash it down to her skull. No matter how she appeared, she was Leah.
Before becoming infected there was nothing bad I could ever say about her. She was kind and loving, unselfish to a fault. Leah was a first grade teacher who cared more about her students than she did anything else. She brought the joys and problems home and worried about students during break.
No Man's Land Page 3