by Matt Ryan
“Oh my god!” Julie yelled standing just inside the store.
Joey stumbled against the counter at the sound.
“What?” Lucas ran to her.
Joey darted over to join them. She held up the printed newspaper and he examined it.
“What’s the date?” Hank asked.
“July 2022,” Julie said.
“Where the hell are we, Harris?” Lucas demanded.
“A parallel,” Julie said. “There’s a theory that in the quantum world, even the tiniest of things move between all realities and every decision is played out. In some other reality, Russia got to the moon first, or all our parents lived.”
“What the heck does that mean?” Lucas asked.
“We’re on a different Earth.” Julie’s eyes narrowed and she faced Harris. “But what is it about this planet, Harris? You know this place. I’ve seen it on your face since we found that soda can.”
“I knew we were on a similar planet from the plants, but there were no planes, no distant smog, no drones, or highways. So I wasn’t sure.”
“Great, so we’re interstellar, inter-dimensional time travelers now?” Lucas threw up his hands and turned his back.
“My goal was to get you to safety at any cost. If I hadn’t been bumped by Simon’s blast wave, we’d be at my compound.”
“So where is here?” Joey asked. He looked to the ceiling and walls, then out to the parking lot and beyond. The thought of it being true made him dizzy. How could they be on another version of Earth? He turned back to Harris, waiting for the answer.
“Ryjack. A planet ruined by Isaac and MM’s failed experiment. I was afraid we might be here. That article will probably explain it.” Harris pointed to the printed article.
Julie read it aloud.
Panic crushes the world as the CDC struggles to find a cure for the ZN1 virus. ZN1 knows no borders; it has passed through checkpoints and jumped oceans. The virus’s inception point appears to be near the L.A. area, but every major city in the world is now infected. The whole world holds its collective breath as we bunker down and attempt survival.
Details continue to emerge from ERs and morgues. Symptoms of infection start with a simple cough, followed by a mild fever. As the fever sets in, the virus attaches itself to white cells, shutting down the body’s functions one by one. The time from first exposure, to time of death, is about 2 weeks. The mortality rate is one hundred percent. The President, in his Address to the Nation, called for everyone to stay home and seal their houses. The military will be stopping by each city to distribute supplies.
Making a bad situation worse, there are reports of murders in L.A. and San Diego areas, involving possible cannibalism. We have some shocking footage, at INT.OUR.TIME.MAG, showing a graphic video of multiple murders, committed by what looked to be infected people. Some are saying the fever has driven people to schizophrenia; others are claiming it is the dead rising. Please use caution when watching these videos; they are traumatic for most viewing audiences.
Julie stopped reading the yellowed paper. “How long ago do you think this was written?” She looked out the store windows.
“Nineteen years ago,” Harris said. “When I said you were the end line of experiments, this planet is where it started. Marcus Malliden wants to live forever. He and Isaac conducted longevity experiments here, changing the DNA of their victims. It didn’t work. He lost control of one of his labs and the infected escaped.”
“Infected people?” Julie echoed.
“Are we going to get infected?” Poly pulled her jacket tight around herself and looked at the air surrounding them.
“Only if you come in contact with the infected,” Harris said.
Joey looked out the store window to the empty parking lot. Still nothing moved—no signs of any life or infected. He touched the hilt of his gun. He would make sure nothing came close to his friends.
“I don’t think we have to worry about viruses because we’ll die in days without any food,” Lucas sagely pointed out.
“Yes, we do need food.” Harris nodded. “Let’s drink some water.”
Joey’s stomach rumbled, as he happily took the water from Harris. Infected or not, he needed to take some weight off his legs, if only for a bit. He sat down with his back against the wall. Hank sat next to him, the smell of sweat wafting past Joey. Poly slid in on the other side of him with her bag of water sloshing around. Lucas and Julie sat in front of them.
After a night of trudging in sand, his legs hurt. He tried to rub the pain from his legs, but when he saw Poly eyeing him with her weary face, he stopped and took another drink of water. All of his friends slumped against whatever they could find. A night without sleep came at a cost, unless you were Harris. He didn’t look beat at all, even with gunshot and arrow wounds.
“Gas station’s empty. What do you guys think we should do for food?” Harris asked.
Joey choked on the water. He assumed Harris had a plan. He stared out the windows to the houses lining the street, searching for a simple answer that wouldn’t make him seem stupid. “Uh, well, we can go to the houses in town and search for supplies. Maybe they left stuff behind?”
“Sounds good to me,” Harris said.
Lucas sighed and fell against Julie. She shoved him off with a disgusted look. “You’re all sweaty and gross.” She brushed the spot his face touched.
“Can’t we rest for a while?” Lucas asked.
“It’s only going to get hotter,” Harris said.
Joey climbed to his feet and the rest followed. He snuck a glance at the camera while leaving the store.
Outside, the heat radiated from the black asphalt as they crossed the parking lot. The bottoms of his feet felt the heat and he picked the few remaining white painted lines to walk on.
They stopped at the sidewalk in front of the first house on the street. The front porch battled against the desert, as sand covered most of the concrete. Dried weeds clung to the house in large stacks. Streaks of brown ran down the stucco walls.
“Let’s go over how we’ll search the houses,” Harris said.
He formed two teams: one outside, which consisted of Hank and Julie, and one inside the house with Harris, Poly, Joey, and Lucas. He then gave instructions on how to enter a house, covering each other as they cleared each room of any danger.
Harris opened the front door with his gun drawn. Joey, Poly, and Lucas took up the rear. He motioned Joey past him and he stepped into the entryway. A faint smell of decay and mildew hit his nose. The family room couch lay on its side with clothes and broken glass scattered across the floor. He paused, examining the black smears on the wall.
“Old blood stains,” Harris whispered. “Keep a look out for anything and be as quiet as you can.”
Joey gave the bloodstains a wide berth and tried not to think about how they got there. He half expected a creepy kid on a big wheel to come by and say, “Redrum.”
Harris moved to a door behind the family room and they put their backs to the wall on each side of the door. He rotated the handle, opened the door, and went in first. Joey followed next. Poly and Lucas mimicked their movements, as they too entered the kitchen.
The room appeared untouched compared to the family room. The tablecloth draped on the table, anchored down with a bowl of vibrant fake fruit. The white kitchen cabinets showed some aging, a yellow tint creeping in around the edges. He ran his hand on the painted cabinet door and opened it to find a stack of plates. Poly yanked open a cabinet door next to him.
“Cups,” she reported.
Harris opened the long cabinet door and pointed to the contents inside. Joey walked next to him to see the food pantry, still full of various foods. It reeked of mildew and decay, but one shelf held a few canned items. Harris pulled out a black bag from his jacket and placed the cans in it.
They went from house to house, taking turns. Most of the other houses had less in the way of can goods and nonperishables, but they still managed to find a dozen
cans. There were a few more houses left on the street.
“Let’s hit one more house and get some blankets for the cold nights ahead,” Harris suggested.
Nights, as in plural? Joey sighed. Not knowing if Samantha was okay, if his parents were okay, caused fear to build. His shoulders slumped and he sighed as he stepped onto the porch of the next house. It was his turn to go in this house with Harris, Poly and Lucas. Poly and Lucas looked as tired as he felt. A cold night under a blanket sounded like a vacation.
Harris, as cautious in this house as he had been in the first, had them work in twos, clearing the house. This time, they went upstairs to retrieve blankets from the bedrooms. Dragging his feet, Joey climbed the stairs.
“Maybe we can just stay here today, ride out the heat,” Joey suggested.
“Quiet,” Harris whispered. “You don’t want to stay in these houses. Trust me.”
Joey sighed and lifted his tired legs up the remaining stairs. They hadn’t seen a single person the entire day, but at every step, Harris seemed on edge.
Harris stopped in front of a bedroom door and Joey put his back on the wall next to the door. He held up three fingers, then lowered one and then another. When he swung the door open, Joey got a peek into the dark room—blankets covered the windows, and the bed lay on its side.
Once Harris took a step into the room, a high-pitched scream sounded and made Joey fumble his gun. A man with nothing but brown-stained underwear on lunged at Harris. Two booming shots rang from his gun and the man slid onto the gray carpet near the door.
Joey’s heart pounded and his ears rang. He looked at the man lying in front of him. His skin was dark and saggy-looking, with a large portion of his arm missing. He saw more movement in the room. The woman, or at least what looked like a woman, opened her black mouth, growling, with dark eyes and gray skin. She clawed at the turned-over mattress, thrashing at the bed, trying to get to Harris. Scaling the mattress, she jumped at them. Two more booming shots cracked and the thing slid next to the man on the floor.
Frozen in place at the doorway, Joey gawked at the two bodies. He couldn’t breathe. Harris walked up to the bodies, inspecting them. He pushed the man over with his foot, revealing the gaping hole in its head. Black blood seeped from its wound.
“You killed them,” Joey said.
The sound of pounding footsteps came from down the stairs. Poly was there first, with her knives out. Lucas followed closely behind, holding his bow with an arrow cocked.
“They were dead a long time ago,” Harris said. “This is what happens if you get bit by one of these creatures.” He pointed at the bodies. “You’d become a mindless monster.” He holstered his guns. “Only a shot to the head stops them.”
“Everyone okay in there?” Hank called from the front door.
“Yeah, just killing zombie people up here!” Lucas yelled back in a sarcastic tone.
“What?” Hank ran up the stairs. “Holy cow,” he said as he reached the top of the stairs.
Joey couldn’t take his eyes away from the couple on the floor. Why were they in this room? Were they complete monsters, or did they still have some kind of humanity behind the rotting skin?
Covering his nose, he took a step back and leaned on the railing. Up to this moment, part of him wanted to believe he was still on Earth. But after looking at the things on the floor, it was confirmed. His only chance of getting back home now belonged in the hands of the man holding a gun in front of him.
“Guys!” Julie yelled from the front door. “I think you should get down here now! There are freaky looking people coming our way.”
JOEY RAN DOWN THE STAIRS as Julie closed the front door and backed away.
Harris got to the door first and pulled up a wooden slat on the blinds. He peered out the opening, and then slammed it back in place. “Get down.” Harris laid on the floor and motioned with his hands for them to do the same.
Joey slid to the floor and found himself face to face with Poly. He looked past her to Julie. “What’s out there?” he asked.
“I don’t know. They look like humans, but all mangled and wrong.” Julie’s hands shook. “Are those the infected?” Something hit the front door and she let out a small squeak and crouched her body against the floor.
Harris held his finger over his mouth and motioned with his hand for Joey to come over to him. More bodies thumped against the house. Joey cringed at each noise made. If the things outside acted anything like the things upstairs, they were in deep trouble. Poly’s face quivered in fear.
“Be right back,” Joey whispered to Poly.
“Be careful,” she warned, as another thumped into the wall. She held her dagger in her hand and stared at the wall.
Joey crawled under the window next to Harris.
“Joey, take a look through the blinds and let us know what you see,” Harris said.
He leaned up on his elbows and squinted through a crack in the blinds. Out front, the street had dozens of zombies, similar to the ones on the second floor, coming toward the house. Most had chunks of their body torn off. Just then, one brushed up against the window and Joey fell to the floor, squeezing his eyes closed, hoping it didn’t see him. The thumping sounds grew and the noise of feet stomping around on the porch filled the room.
“What did you see?” Harris asked.
“The street’s full of them, and a bunch are on the porch already,” he answered.
“Oh my god, they’re going to kill us,” Julie whimpered, “I won’t die, not here.” She pulled her knees to her chest and held herself. Lucas scurried over the floor to her and whispered in her ear. She nodded her head and seemed to relax some.
“They won’t go crazy unless they see us,” Harris said. “They are as violent as they are dumb.”
“Maybe they haven’t surrounded the house yet. The back could be clear.” Joey leaned forward a bit so everyone could hear.
“Sounds good. Let’s do it before it’s too late.” Harris crawled toward the kitchen.
They followed him on their hands and knees. The unobstructed windows gave them a view of the backyard—no zombies. They stood next to the back door and Harris placed his hand on the handle.
“Everyone needs to get ready for what we might face out there.” His gaze passed over each of them. “There’s a group out front, and if we’re lucky, we can sneak away without them noticing. But, if it all goes wrong, make a run for the store.”
Joey stretched his fingers and nodded, feeling for his guns. Lucas took his bow out and Poly flipped a knife in her hands. Hank carried the trash bag of supplies, while Julie stayed in the middle between Lucas and Poly. They formed a loose circle as they exited the rear door of the house.
Once outside, Joey heard the grunts and thuds as the zombies stumbled on the front porch. Not ten feet past the back door and he cringed at a hissing sound, like a huge cat. He turned toward the noise and saw one running at them. Its insane eyes locked on him, mouth open, showing its yellow teeth and black tongue.
“Lucas, shoot it,” Harris whispered.
Lucas hesitated, struggling to get the arrow in the bow. He secured the arrow and pulled his bow back, letting it fly. The arrow missed, striking nothing but a few strands of silver hair. He cocked another arrow and shot it, hitting it in the head. It fell onto the fake grass in front of them. Joey had his finger on the trigger and kept it aimed at the back of the thing’s head.
Lucas stared at it, the bow shaking in his unsteady hands. “I had to, it was going to kill me,” he pleaded.
Julie covered her mouth, tears rolling down her cheek.
“Uh-oh.” Hank pointed past the fallen zombie.
The first errant arrow had hit a zombie rounding the corner. It hissed and ran toward them. Lucas unleashed another arrow and hit the thing in the neck. It slowed, grabbed the arrow, and yelled in a guttural, gargling voice.
Moving faster, the creature closed the gap. Joey held his gun out, pointing directly at its disturbed face. Lucas fu
mbled with his arrow again and Joey put his finger on the trigger.
Come on, Lucas. Don’t make me do it.
Poly leaned forward and threw her knife. It plunged into its head, falling face first on the fake grass. Joey took his shaky finger off the trigger, terrified by the fact he was going to shoot it.
“I can’t do this. We need to get out of here.” Julie shook her hands up and down, frantically looking for an escape.
The need to move hit Joey hard as he looked up to see a dozen zombie-things rounding the corner of the house. Each of their sunken faces changed when they spotted them. Their mouths widened and gaped abnormally. Many of the zombies hissed and growled as they ran at them.
“Run to the store,” Harris ordered, as he pushed them in that direction.
Joey didn’t need a push. He ran full speed, out in front. Glancing back, he saw the creepy group increasing in numbers and closing in.
Harris ran at the rear of the pack. He fired and the gunshot echoed through the houses. He fired again and with each shot, Joey winced. If there were any not aware of their presence, they were now.
Every hundred feet they had to jump over a small, white picket fence separating one fake lawn from the next. Joey ran with his gun in hand, bobbing up and down. He didn’t think it was possible to make a shot on the run the way Harris did.
“Joey, ahead of us, to the right.” Harris nodded.
The large zombie stumbled toward them with his withered, sagging face and open black mouth. Joey slowed down and grasped his gun with a shaky hand. He took aim and fired while walking, striking the thing in the shoulder. He shot again and hit the chest. Panic built as it trotted toward them. Black drool spilled from its mouth. It must have been salivating.
Gunshots blasted from behind. Joey stopped at a picket fence and held up his gun, looking down the sights. Frustrated, he felt the pressure of not letting his friends down. Lucas pulled back an arrow and fired into the ones coming down the side of the house. It struck one in the chest but it kept coming.