Z Fever

by Jay Mouton

  For the first time since they’d escaped from the school, Gavin had some time to think about his father.

  It wasn’t that the boy didn’t love his daddy; he did, and did so with a depth that, sometimes, even Gavin found himself surprised at. But, his father was a professional musician, and, often, was gone for days and weeks at a time. Once, and Gavin remembered this time so well, because he’d heard his mother and little sister crying one night, together, because they both missed Sean Kingsley, husband, father and guitar player, so very much. Gavin was eavesdropping that night, and even though he, too, missed his daddy, found himself chuckle when he heard his mother trying to comfort Ariel and, inadvertently, got the both of them in tears.

  Even though Sean had been home the night before, he’d had to leave that very morning to play a show up in a city called Chicago. Gavin didn’t know a whole lot about that city, but his daddy had told him that it was “really, really, cold up there at this time of year.”

  Gavin and Ariel, had said goodbye to their father about an hour before Mr. Stuart picked them up at the end of their driveway just before they left for school. Gavin and Ariel had walked across the yard to Granddaddy and Grand Mama’s house to wait until their bus came to take them to school. Their mother, drove off in her black Camry to take their daddy to the airport over in Jacksonville. His own vehicle was back in a garage in town, again, getting some, as his daddy would, often, say, “work done on it.”

  The last time Gavin saw his father, his daddy, the guitar player had been leaning across the car, from where he was sitting in the passenger seat, and kissing Gavin’s mama on her right cheek just as Kayla Kingsley was blowing a kiss to Gavin and Ariel, smiling, then waving goodbye to her children.

  Her last goodbye, ever.

  Ariel stirred next to her brother, and called out from her dreams, “Mama!”

  Gavin patted his little sister, again, and shushed her. He, silently, thanked her, too, as she brought his attention back to the present. And, Gavin knew himself enough to know that he was just about ready to start crying if he didn’t concentrate on something else.

  * * * * *

  The bus drove on, and Gavin could see out the window that they were just coming up on Altman’s Grocery store, and that meant they were only a few miles or so away from their home; and, hopefully, Granddaddy and Grand mama Kingsley had come right home when they heard about all the crazy stuff that was going on at Gavin’s school.

  Zombies!

  The word flashed to the forefront of his mind, again.

  What if Granddaddy and Grand mama Kingsley are zombies, he thought?

  You know they are, Gavin!

  “No! I don’t know that!” Gavin yelled back, out loud, at the taunting words that rushed right out of his thoughts and teased at him with no mercy.

  “What’s that, boy?” Mr. Stuart hollered over his shoulder, brought back from his own thoughts upon hearing the abrupt yell from the child, and, then, turning his head to the side for a fraction of a second.

  SMACK!

  Ben Stuart quickly turned his eyes back to the road, just as he watched the hands of somebody, or something, that they had just run into disappear from the front of the windshield, and shoot under the front end of the bus.

  The old man swerved, on instinct, but way too late to avoid hitting whatever, or whomever he’d just pulverized.

  The big old bus, only slugging along at forty miles or so miles an hour, juked to the right side of the highway, and then back across the blacktop careening onto the loose dirt on the left shoulder of County 125. Then, Ben Stuart made a last-ditch effort to try to bring the squealing tank under control, but it was not to be.

  Even as Gavin reached over, trying to secure Ariel, and keep her small body from falling off their seat, his own small frame went airborne when the bus began to make its roll off the pavement of County 125 and into the ditch right before the crossroads at Altman’s Grocery.

  Again, the world around the boy down-shifted into slow motion, and as his body, slipping the bonds of gravity as the bus tumbled, sailed through the air inside the churning husk of metal, he could see his little sister float by him. As she had awakened, immediately, when her body lifted from her perch beside Gavin, she let out another scream. Gavin could see her eyes, as the two of them flew by each other, face to face for a millisecond, wide and filled with terror once more.

  Gavin felt a sharp pain in his side, as he banged up against what might have been the back of Mr. Stuart’s seat, but he had no idea just what he’d hit. Then, almost as quickly, he felt another jolt of pain on his lower lip when his body, no longer in freefall, came to a sudden stop, along with the bus, and slammed into the top of the vehicle, which had, now, become the floor.

  Ariel’s scream had come to a quick end when she, too, made contact with the hard metal of the bus top. Gavin, even though his own surprise and pain, panicked when he heard his little sister’s scream end so suddenly. Then, like the sound of a song right out of Heaven, Gavin heard his sister crying. Maybe she was hurt, he thought, but she’s not dead.

  Carefully, as the bus top, now floor, swayed ever so slightly below his body, he moved. First he wiggled his fingers, then lifted his arms, then his legs. Convinced he was intact, he then pushed himself up into a sitting position. Every part of his body seemed to hurt at the same time, but he was reassured, and thankful, that he did not seem badly hurt.

  Ariel, crying, still managed to call out to her brother.

  “I’m okay, Ariel,” Gavin shot back at her, hoping to reassure her just a little that she’d not lost yet another loved one, today.

  “I hurt, Gavin,” she managed to get out.

  “Are you bleeding anywhere,” Gavin asked, looking at the girl, and then, somewhat painfully, shifted onto his knees and began crawling towards her.

  “No. I don’t think I’m bleeding,” she said, then added, “should I be?”

  Despite it all, Gavin grinned at his brave, little sister and shook his head, no.

  Suddenly, from just behind where Gavin was balanced upon his knees, and slowly crawling towards Ariel, another voice moaned.

  It was a deep voice, and it sounded vaguely familiar to Gavin.

  It was the same, unearthly, sound he’d heard at the end of the voice messages that Mrs. Stuart had left on Mr. Stuart’s cell phone; indeed, the sound was coming from the crumpled body that belonged to Mr. Stuart. He’d landed just below his own seat, and right below the bus’s steering wheel.

  Gavin’s first thought, as he turned to the sound of the old man’s moaning, was that he, Mr. Stuart, too, was alive. Then, as the memory of the sound of Mrs. Stuart screaming from the voice messages, and then the horrific sound of what had to have been the thing that must have been attacking her, hit him.

  The boy stopped in mid-crawl and, for the second time that day, the hairs on the back of his neck danced about, again, and sent another cold shiver of fear though his entire being.

  “Who is that, Gavin?” Ariel asked, not recognizing Mr. Stuart’s voice at all.

  “I’m not sure, Ariel, but I don’t think it’s Mr. Stuart anymore,” he answered.

  Ben Stuart, or whatever he was now, stirred further, but did not move from the spot on which his huge frame rested. Still, the sounds of his moans, and then a more guttural sound began to emanate from him and swell in volume.

  Off to Gavin’s right, maybe eight or nine feet away and close to the tail end of the bus, was Justine Webb. She was about a year younger than Gavin, but slightly taller than he was. She, too, was crawling about on her knees, and seemed a little dazed by the accident.

  Mr. Stuart, or whatever he had become, or was in the process of becoming, growled and stirred yet again. This time, the huge hulk shook its head, as if groggy and trying to clear its thoughts. Mr. Stuart turned his head to the side. Though the light streaming in through the bus’s, now missing, front window, Gavin caught his profile.

  The boy was right; Mr. Stuart, his oldest adult
friend in the world, was no longer anything that Gavin would admit to calling human.

  The creature, near the front end of the bus, continued to shake its head back and forth; a frothy drool sprayed left and right and the creature’s ugly head shook and quivered, causing a morbid rainbow through refracted sunlight.

  Gavin could feel his fear ever growing, and his heart throbbed with more intensity with every second that passed.

  Run!

  Gavin could feel the primal urge to flee, but another groan from the front of the bus reminded him that he was the oldest child on the bus, and he felt responsible for his schoolmates. Above all, Gavin had to protect his little sister, Ariel.

  The boy heard another muffled sound just off to the right of the creature. Unfortunately, the monster, that was quickly becoming more animated, heard the sound, too. It, as Gavin did, turned its head toward the same sound.

  It was Sammy Puget, one of Ariel’s classmates. The boy’s family attended the same church that the Kingsley children did, just up the road in Taylor. Little Sammy was one of Ariel’s friends.

  Sammy groaned, again, and was now trying to raise his small frame up into a sitting position.

  “Shush,” Gavin whispered toward the boy, but it sounded like he was yelling at the top of his lungs, to Gavin.

  The creature that Mr. Stuart had, fully, become, quickly darted its dead eyes toward Gavin.

  The young boy felt his blood turn cold, and wished more than anything that he could simply make the monster, not ten feet in front of him, just disappear.

  “What happened?” Sammy croaked out, weakly. Slowly, the little boy raised a tiny arm into the still air around him.

  He was now sitting up, and Gavin could see that the child must have hit his head against something hard and, probably, sharp. There was a huge gash in the boy’s left cheek, and he was bleeding profusely.

  The monster, an arm’s reach from Sammy, jerked its head back to the sound of the boy’s voice. The very sound of the child, so close by the creature, seemed to set it off. The creature started to drool even more while its grunts grew in volume. Gavin wondered if the monster could smell the warm blood as it leaked out of the gash on Sammy’s cheek.

  The very sound of the monster seemed to jar Sammy Puget out of his stupor.

  The boy took in a lungful of air, and managed a terrified screech.

  The monster reached over, clutched the child’s small head, brought it toward it, then, with a hungry lunge forward, clamped its hungry jaws upon the child’s throat, and cut the child’s squeal off an instant later.

  Sammy Puget’s last moments on Earth were the stuff that nightmares were born of. The thing that all children, at one time or another, know lives under the bed had finally escaped out into the clear, blue light of the day. The shadows, no longer strong enough to bar the monsters from entering the world of the living.

  The sound of the creature’s jaws, tearing and ripping little Sammy Puget to shreds, jolted Gavin back to the horrendous reality that had engulfed them.

  “Ariel! Come on!” he yelled at his little sister.

  The small girl stood up and ran toward the back of the bus. Justine did the same. Gavin was in the process of turning away from Mr. Stuart, now another hungry creature from hell, when he caught sight of Mr. Stuart’s cell phone, on the floor, only a couple feet away from him.

  And, a couple of feet closer to the monster.

  Gavin shot a quick glance at the scene of carnage at the front of the bus. He gambled that the hungry creature was so caught up in its gory meal that Gavin could make a grab for the cell phone.

  The boy made his move, felt the device solidly clutched in his right hand, then turned to his sister, Justine Webb, and the freedom that was beckoning to them just outside of the bus.

  Gavin swiftly made his way to join the other two children standing near the emergency exit at the rear. It looked strange to Gavin, since the door was, now, closer to the roof of the bus than the actual floor they were standing on.

  Still, Mr. Stuart had taught Gavin, nearly two years before, how to quickly open the emergency door in case of just that; an emergency. Handing the cell phone over to Justine, the boy grabbed the emergency handle and gave it a firm tug.

  It held fast.

  Gavin tugged it, again.

  It did not budge. He felt another wave of panic rush over his slender body, and he pulled once more on the handle.

  Nothing!

  The boy’s thoughts raced, as he could hear the monster. It was, apparently, still content with feasting upon whatever remained of Sammy Puget.

  Think, Gavin!

  The logic part of his mind insisted that he calm down and figure out why the emergency handle wouldn’t give; the limbic area of his brain begging for him to get them out of there—now!

  With the sound of the beast up front still devouring its human prey invading every available centimeter of his mind, Gavin fought for control of his senses. The boy willed himself to calm down.

  Ariel and Justine just stood next to him, silent. But both sets of eyes, wide with fright, compelled him to hurry on his mission to free them from their captivity.

  Yes!

  Gavin’s mind shouted out to him, echoing inside his head and, momentarily, blocked out the sounds of the hungry beast feasting at the front of the bus.

  In his rush to get them out of the coffin like bus, Gavin had forgotten that the vehicle had over-turned, and the top of the bus was now the bottom; the emergency door handle had to be pushed in the opposite direction, as it, too, was now upside down.

  His hands gripped the metal handle, once more. Then, with all the strength he could muster, his skinny arms pushed up on it.

  He felt a reassuring squeak. Then the door handle moved, and the door swung open to freedom only inches away.

  Gavin Kingsley, grinned. Then, he turned to help his little sister out the exit. Once his sister had scampered out the emergency exit, he paused, once more, and turned back to their schoolmate, Justine. He held his arm out for her to grab hold of, and helped push her up, over, then out of the emergency door.

  Once both girls were standing under the warmth of the sunlight, Gavin took hold of the sides of the doorway, pulled himself up, and then scrambled out into the same beautiful light of day. The warm rays that landed upon his exposed skin, had never felt so good before.

  * * * * *

  The three children ran from the bus, and toward Altman’s Grocery, which was a little less than a football field’s length away from where the bus lay, belly up; a rusty, yellowed metal caterpillar with all its legs torn off, across the shallow ditch that lined County 125.

  As they rushed forward, nearing the gas pumps at the front of the building, Gavin told them to hold up; the three of them slowed down, stopped, and simply stood close to each other breathing heavily.

  Ariel spoke first.

  She was standing right next to her big brother, and she brought the tiny finger of her left hand up to his lower lip and touched it.

  Gavin winced.

  “Gavin, you’re bleeding,” she said, still breathing heavy, but steady on her feet.

  Gavin reached up and, carefully, ran an index finger over his lower lip. Sure enough, it felt swollen, and painful to his light probe. He brought his finger away from his mouth, and held it steady in front of him. It was, indeed, dabbled with specks of blood.

  He remembered hitting a seat, or something hard, with the side of his body, but he didn’t remember hitting his mouth on anything; his fat lip proved otherwise. Then, he remembered the sudden stop he’d made on the floor, or top, of the bus when it landed. He shrugged it off.

  “I’m okay, Ariel,” he said, to his little sister. Again, the big brother attempting to sooth his younger sister.

  “Are you sure you’re okay, Gavin,” Justine Webb asked him, her voice sounding timid, but perhaps simply tentative. The girl had had a crush on Gavin Kingsley for nearly the whole of the school year, and was already a girl
prone to shyness. She was tall and, somewhat, lanky for her age group. And to top that off, she was adorned with a head of flaming red hair and a freckled face; both attributes, combined, seemed to act as the opposite of a talisman, and seemed to ward off all boys she came into contact with.

  Still, Gavin Kingsley treated her with kindness, and she returned his kindness with the favor of her crush on him; of course, this was whether he liked it or not.

  At school, they got along well when they ran into each other at recesses. And, now and then, Gavin would even sit at the same lunch table with her.

  “I’m okay. I’m, Alright,” he said, carefully wiping his lip on a shirt sleeve.

  They all stood for a few more seconds.

  Suddenly, all three turned toward the bus several hundred feet down the road.

  The monster inside the bus was, apparently, trying to make its own exit from captivity. They could hear the grunts and howls of the beast, as it attempted to break free of confinement. The sound of the beast hammering its blood and flesh covered hands against the shattered glass and metal of the front double doors of the bus reminded them that they were, still, nowhere near safe.

  Gavin grinned to himself. He thought the monster must not be too awful bright; all he had to do was to crawl through the wide expanse of the missing front windshield of the broken and battered bus.

  “Let’s go in the store,” Justine said. She reflected a moment, then added, “maybe there’s an adult in there that can help us all get home?” It sounded more like a wish than a question.

  “Wait!” Gavin said, holding a hand up. The sounds of the monster within the belly of the bus still breaking the silence of the lonely county highway.

  Gavin took a deep breath.

  “We have no idea about who, or what, is in the store, Justine,” he said.

  “I’m hungry,” little Ariel said, to nobody in particular.

  It occurred to Gavin that he, too, despite all the terrible events that had so quickly taken place, was absolutely famished. And, he thought, we’ve got to get away from Mr. Stuart.