A Broken World: A Post Apocalyptic Thriller

by Andrew Lauck

  I ran to the car, dipping my hand in my jeans to grab the keys as I approached the passenger side door. There was no fumbling with the keys like in the movies, but rather a deep focus on precision as my fingers found the key ring. I remember my Sergeant drilling into our brains back in training that the hardest part of an operation was always the end when you were most likely to let your guard down. As soon as Kat’s door was open, I slid across the hood Bo Duke-style and popped open my door. I threw the rifle in the back and was almost in when I caught motion in my peripheral vision and had just enough time to bring up my arm before an infected came out of nowhere and lunged for my throat. My hand caught its neck, and I barely managed to hold it inches from my face as Kat was frantic in the passenger seat trying to get an angle while she quickly reloaded.

  “Eric, you have to move or something! They’re coming!” I glanced through the windshield and saw the silhouettes of the horde backlit by a flash of lightning. With no choice, I shoved the barrel of the Sig up under its jaw and squeezed the trigger, turning my head and shutting my eyes at the last second. The side of my face was bathed in warm blood that contrasted with the cool rain that drenched my clothes, but I pushed the body away from the car, and shut the door. The mud reduced traction on the tires, but I slammed the car in reverse, and we peeled away from the farmhouse before swerving around to drive on the side road.

  As we sped through the night, I could see the horde in the rearview mirror, and a chill crept down my spine because it felt like a reminder that the zombies were always coming for us.

  Chapter 34

  2100 Hours

  After the farm house disappeared from my rear view mirror, I gave it another hour of driving before pulling off to the side of the road and putting the car in park.

  “Are you okay?” I asked, my eyes never leaving the scenery in front of the car. My hands clamped down in a vice grip on the steering wheel.

  “Eric, why did we stop? Is everything alright? Are we out of gas?” She panicked, shifting in her seat to see the fuel gauge. It sat comfortably under full.

  “Did they bite you?” I didn’t mean to raise my voice, but the words caught in my throat as I angled my body to face her. “Before I shot the one on top of you, did it bite you?”

  “What? No!” She said it more as a denial than an answer.

  “Your arm is bleeding, Kat…” I kept my tone level and absent of menace, but the look of fear in her eyes broke my heart. She rolled up the short sleeve of her shirt and found a fresh gash on her shoulder, the pain being covered temporarily by the adrenaline still pumping through her system.

  “I must have hit something when that zombie jumped on top of me, or it scratched me when it pushed me down…” she whispered. Her eyes flashed to mine in sudden terror. “Am I going to turn into one of those things?”

  “I honestly don’t know, Katherine. I wish I had a better answer.” My mouth moved on its own, because my mind was having difficulty processing the possibility of losing Katherine. She slid over and hugged her face to my chest. I felt the warm tears against my shirt and her body heaved with her sobs, so I wrapped my arm around her. “We can’t be sure it was the zombie. You could be right about hitting your arm on something.” I had to be the positive one for once since she had always filled that quota.

  My words lacked conviction, but it was the best I could do at that particular moment. Being faced with the potential reality of Katherine, the one relatable human being I had found since Chicago that I trusted, getting infected was the scariest feeling I’d felt in a very long time. She wiped her eyes and leaned up, apparently finished crying.

  “I guess we should keep going. Maybe we can find more survivors before…” She trailed off and her eyes dropped to the floor.

  “Before your arm heals, and we find out you scared me for nothing.” I grinned, and she laughed half-heartedly.

  “You really suck at this whole trying to be positive thing,” and I laughed.

  “Hey, one of us has to do it. Besides, for all we know there’s a scientist at a military compound somewhere coming up with a cure as we speak, and by the time we get there he’ll be done. So, there’s no need to worry either way. Our bases are covered.”

  “Now you’re just grasping at straws, Eric.” She lifted an eyebrow and looked at me. “But thanks for trying.”

  “It’s all anyone can do these days.” I stared at the key between my fingers.

  “Just…promise me something? If I do…if the cut is infected, promise me you won’t let me suffer?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. I kind of like the idea of having a pet zombie to take everywhere.”

  “Eric, I’m serious. I don’t want to be a zombie. I mean, what if I hurt you or someone else? I can’t deal with that.”

  “And I can’t deal with being alone, Kat.” I said softly. “Not again. Not after everything we’ve been through. Honestly, the only thing keeping me going anymore is you, and if I lost you…” I took a deep breath. “I just can’t accept that. I won’t. So we’ll just keep going and see what happens together, okay?” I looked over to find her smiling, and I have to say I think Katherine is crazy.

  “Alright, Eric, I won’t bring it up again.”

  “Thank you,” I said, turning on the car and illuminating the darkness ahead. I wondered if I’d be able to do what was necessary if the wound ended up being infected. Back in Chicago, I had faced a similar situation, and then again at the gas station. How many times had I been forced to end someone’s suffering? Katherine has been with me for almost two weeks, and we’ve already been through so much. Could I pull the trigger on someone I cared about again? The car edged out onto the road, and I drove toward the horizon, hoping I wouldn’t have to find out.

  Chapter 35

  Day 185

  0900 Hours

  I drove through the night, ignoring the sleep that threatened to overtake me. Kat fell asleep a while ago, and her head now rested on my shoulder, her quiet breathing giving an odd sense of calm to the situation. We had cleaned her arm and wrapped it in gauze that I pulled from my pack. I knew it hurt because of her failed attempts to conceal the wincing, which almost made me laugh if things weren’t so tense.

  The car’s gas gauge now almost resembled my hope, dwindling down as the miles wore on. During the night, we passed over the Indiana state lines which explained why I was starting to see more countryside. Unfortunately, I wasn’t as familiar with the layout of Indiana and had no idea where any major cities were besides the capital, so the prospect of finding a doctor was dimming.

  Upon the thought of going back to a city, a chill ran down my spine. I wasn’t sure if it was regret, guilt, or fear that swept over me, but it seized my thoughts in an instant. Images of my ex-wife and son passed through my mind so vividly, I could swear they were right there sitting in the back seat when I glanced in the rearview mirror. Shaking my head clear, I forced my mind to focus on the road. Katherine must have felt the movement because she leaned up and stretched.

  “Are we there yet?” she asked in a yawn. I shook my head.

  “To be honest, I’m not even sure where ‘there’ is. I figure if we drive long enough, we’re bound to run into someone.”

  “That sounds like a great plan you’ve got there.”

  “Thanks! It took me all night to think of it.” We both laughed, and I stopped the car to grab a quick breakfast now that Kat was up. A bottle of water and an energy bar later, we were back on the road. Neither of us brought up the events on the farm, but I could tell the incident held a dark cloud over both of us by renewing our fear of being infected. I can’t imagine how much worse it was for Katherine, though.

  I remember back in the town Dawes had told me I’d have to kill Kat eventually, and I was beginning to wonder if he knew what he was talking about after all. Obviously, he couldn’t foresee this exact scenario, and we still weren’t even sure she was infected from the scratch, but either way this was a close call. Maybe it was even a wake-up
call for me to realize just how fragile any relationship was now.

  Luckily, we passed a sign that pulled me out of my thoughts. “Crown Point 30 miles.” I wanted to believe that Crown Point would be our last stop, but somehow the memory of the town caused me to doubt any hopes I felt. Maybe “last stop” was a poor choice of words.

  ***

  I really needed to look into getting a new watch that actually told the right time. Judging the time of day as 1300 hours based on the sun’s position was a good approximation, but it would be nice to not go blind trying to figure out the time.

  We sat in the car eating the last two MRE’s for lunch. To the right of the car was the sign that read “Crown Point Next Exit.” As I twirled spaghetti onto the plastic fork, I could feel the intense stare coming from my right.

  “What?” I said, breaking the silence and eating a mouthful of the noodles in front of me.

  “Are you okay, Eric? Ever since we saw the first sign for Crown Point, you’ve been on edge.”

  “No I haven’t!” Admittedly, I got a little too defensive.

  “Well, you’ve been staring at that spaghetti like it has the answers of the universe, and I seriously doubt noodles are that profound.” She waited expectantly.

  “Fine.” I sighed. “It’s just that the last time I was anywhere near a city was back in Chicago, and I don’t know if I’m ready to confront those demons yet.”

  “What do you mean?” Her look softened to sympathy which only furthered my defensive tone.

  “Well, I barely made it out of Chicago alive, Kat. I left a lot back there, like one of my best friends and my family.”

  “Why didn’t you go back for them?” She sounded shocked, but I guess I can’t blame her. My phrasing left out a key detail.

  “Because they were dead.” My voice dropped to a whisper.

  “Oh my God, Eric, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”

  “Maybe it’s time you did.” My mind drifted back to Chicago, the vivid memories that haunted me surfacing again as I told her my story.

  Chapter 36

  Day 1

  1000 Hours

  Chicago, Illinois

  Ironically, the apocalypse didn’t happen on any of the days foretold by so many self-proclaimed prophets and ancient civilizations. The outbreak started on an ordinary day in spring, with ground zero being a nationally televised funeral. Pandemics become so by spreading so fast that they can’t be controlled or stopped through the quarantine process. In this case, it hit so fast in so many places that the CDC didn’t have time to mobilize before it was beating down their front door.

  Unfortunately, by the time I was running to my bedroom to grab my go-bag it was already too late. Before the last one died in the hospital, the members of the research team that made it back managed to infect countless others in the airports. The virus was unleashed and moved across the world like wildfire. That’s how it got to Chicago.

  I heard shots being fired outside my apartment mixed in with the terrified screaming and panic of my neighborhood. With the bag strapped to my back, I threw open my front door, and walked onto the street. Smoke billowed from flames all around, and sirens blared through the city.

  After I got back from my third tour overseas and retired, I moved into this pretty nice apartment complex not too far from my ex-wife so I could spend more time with my son and be a part of his life. Across the street from my first-floor apartment lived a very nice woman and her son that I had grown to know over the past two years. But as I walked through my doorway, what I saw horrified me.

  That “very nice woman” was chasing her screaming eight-year-old son across the front lawn, blood drenching the shoulder of his shirt from a huge gash. I took off in a charge to try and stop her, but it was too late. She lunged on top of the kid, smashing his face into the pavement. Tears streaked down his face mixed with the blood from his broken nose as the mom bit deep into the side of his throat from behind. Her eyes came up and locked on to me, a ragged strip of flesh hanging from the corner of her mouth.

  She rose and stalked toward me in an unnatural walk. When she was within ten yards of me, the grill of an F-150 Ford truck slammed into her, splashing her blood across the front, and sending her flying sideways onto the sidewalk. My best friend from Special Forces, Anthony Burke, stepped out from behind the wheel with his M16 in hand. I gave him a confused look and was about to ask what was going on when I followed his stare behind me.

  The mother was trying to get up, her legs broken in several places by the truck slamming into her. The snapped bones crackled and prevented her from standing properly, so she was forced to pull herself along the ground toward us. All emotion was absent in her eyes. Pain, guilt, even sadness over her child, were replaced with hunger. Tony raised his M16 and fired a .223 round into her head, shifting his stance, and putting one in her son as well.

  He leaned over the son to make sure he hit the mark and switched the M16 to his off-hand, patting me on the shoulder on his way back to the truck.

  “Are you coming?” he asked, glancing around the area nervously.

  “Coming? I just saw my neighbor eat her son, and you shot her in the head! Tony, what the hell is going on?” Not much got me to freak out, but the sight of my sweet girl next door taking a bite out of the chicken dinner that was her eight-year-old managed to break my calm.

  “Eric, just get in the truck. I’ll fill you in on the way.” Reluctantly, I hurried to the passenger door and got in. The Ford was in motion as soon as my ass hit the seat, so I pulled the door closed and buckled in.

  “Tony, what the fuck happened back there?”

  “Well, the short version is the virus that those assholes in the arctic brought back has spread to Chicago, and the shit hit the fan. Everyone is regrouping at the police station, so me and some other guys volunteered to go round up anyone we could find.”

  “But what did the virus do to Maggie?”

  “Who?”

  “My neighbor. You know, the one your grill got intimate with back there before you shot her in the head.”

  “Oh, Maggie. I hate to tell you this, brother, but Maggie was a zombie.” Anthony managed to say that with a straight face.

  “A zombie? Dude, this shit is reality, so get your head out of your ass and be serious for once.”

  Tony stopped the truck suddenly and turned to me, stress obviously tugging at the seams of his anger. He simply pointed at the windshield, and I looked outside the truck. The town hall was engulfed in conflagration, flaming bodies lying dead outside. Some of the bodies still moving seemed off, moving to intercept the fleeing politicians. One survivor was putting out his fire by rolling in the grass when a burning zombie caught up to him, reigniting the fire as it sank its teeth into his stomach. The man screamed and gasped for air before falling back against the grass, his lifeless body jerking with each tear of the zombie.

  An infected woman was moving closer to the truck, her mouth broken and hanging open at an angle. I was about to reach into my bag on the floorboard, but my action was halted by the blaring sound of a siren filling the air before a fire truck slammed full-speed into the zombie and splashed her remains everywhere. The fact that the truck didn’t even try to miss her bothered me.

  “Eric, I’m being very serious. Everything is going to Hell, so we need to get the fuck out of here ASAP.” I nodded, forcing myself to look away from the devastation. Anthony started driving again, barreling down the road, and swerving around corners. “We’ll get to the police station and come up with a plan.”

  “I can’t go there yet, Tony. I have to get Samantha and Phillip. Just let me out here, and I’ll meet you at the PD.”

  Anthony shifted the gear to park and looked sideways at me, a dark look in his eyes like he didn’t expect me to make it. I think he was debating whether to let me go alone or not.

  “I can’t leave them, Tony, but that’s not your problem. I’ll get them, and then I promise I’ll get to the station.”

&nb
sp; “Alright, bro. But you get there, man.” I opened the door and stepped out, checking the surroundings. “Here.” Tony called behind me, holding out his standard issue M9 pistol. I reached in my bag and withdrew my Sig, holding it up for him to see.

  “I’m good, man.” I tucked the handgun in the back of my waist and grabbed my bag. “Besides, you might need that. I’ll see you at the station.” We shook hands, and I stepped back, letting him put the truck into drive and head toward the police station. I took one last cautious glance around and set out on foot for Samantha’s house four blocks away.

  Chapter 37

  I settled into a jog and made my way down the first two blocks without any problems, dodging and weaving between infected roaming the streets. It was on the third block that the cell phone rang in my pocket, and I slowed down to pull it out and shield the screen to read the caller ID. It was Samantha. I instantly flipped it open and answered, jogging over a flattened fence, and taking cover behind the vehicle responsible.

  “Samantha! Are you alright?”

  “They’re all outside, Eric! I think they’re breaking down the door.” I could hear the fear in her voice and pounding on the door in the background. “We were just outside playing and then…” She trailed off, so I cut in.

  “Just calm down, and take a deep breath, honey. Where are you in the house?”

  “We’re in the living room. I blocked the door, but there are so many of them.”

  “Okay, Samantha, I need you to take Phillip and get somewhere safe. Try a closet or something; anywhere easier to defend.”

  “Okay.” I heard her call for Phillip before the sound of glass breaking cut through the calm. Samantha screamed and static washed over the phone in between the sounds of footsteps. I yelled her name into the phone, but the call went dead. Cursing, I sprinted for her house and said a silent prayer that she was okay.