Extinction Level Event (Book 1): The Turn

by J. Walker

“Christ! Emily, get in here now!” Bree was screaming my name loudly.

  Her voice seemed to be coming through a tunnel. I was so shocked by the appearance of John, or what had been John, that I stood motionless, unable to move. This was Ashley’s father, this was my ex-husband. There was a time, long ago, when I loved this man. Now he was nothing more than a horrifying ruin of dead and rotting flesh that wanted only one thing, to feed and pass on the virus.

  Finally I heard the shuffling of feet and the groans of a horde close behind me, coming from the forest across from the compound. My senses continued to be attacked by the heavy and malodorous reek of decomposing organic tissue. The instinct of self-preservation kicked in at last and I plunged my blade into John’s ear with a barely audible crunch and waited until his body went limp. I pulled the blade from his head and I turned.

  All the while, Bree continued screaming at me to come back inside.

  There was no way of knowing exactly how many there were as they wormed their way through the dense grove of trees, like maggots erupting from a bloated corpse. A swarm was approaching and the sheer size of it was something I hadn’t yet seen.

  This is what it must have been like when they overtook the highways. A never-ending tidal wave of grotesque corpses bearing down on the helpless evacuees who had nowhere to run and no way to defend themselves. All they could do was sit and wait to die as dozens of teeth ripped into their flesh, while hands tore at them, cleaving limbs from bodies.

  “Dammit Emily get in here now!”

  Aroused from my reverie, I finally turned to the gate and quickly slid it open. Slipping inside I called up to Bree, asking her to radio the others in the compound for help. My hands shook as I made sure the gate was locked.

  “Tell them we need the rifles, suppressors and lots of ammo.” I said breathlessly, finally reaching the top of the platform.

  “Bree.” I started to tell her about John but suddenly I couldn’t finish.

  I choked back my tears and instead, I reached for one of the cross-bows that were kept nearby. My hands continued to shake violently and I was having a difficult time trying to pull the bowstring back. We had never seen more than ten on any given occasion and John’s presence had completely rattled me.

  “Bree that was John.” I cried out at last. “It was John. Fuck!”

  She turned to me, aghast. “Are you serious?”

  Just then Sam’s voice called to us from the ground below. “What’s going on?” His two boys were with him, along with Mike and they carried heavy, powerful rifles.

  “Just get up here!” I called down to them.

  Finally able to fire some bolts into the crowding horde of zombies below, I didn’t even pause to look at their approach. Bree had taken up the extra crossbow and was also firing into the crowd. The fallen corpses were beginning to pile up around the base of the wall and soon the others were climbing over the bodies of the fallen. Their leathery hands tried in vain to reach us and the sounds of so many was starting to unnerve me.

  “We can’t let them pile up.” I cried out loudly.

  Mike, Sam and the two boys climbed up the scaffolding and viewed the scene below with horror.

  “What the fuck?” Mike cried out in shock.

  “Just take them out!” Sam yelled at him.

  Ben and Charlie were already taking down the outer ring of the groaning mob with perfect head shots. Bree and I were out of bolts and reached for two extra rifles. Within a short period of time, most of them were down. There were still some that were now crawling over their fallen comrades because their lower limbs had been rendered useless. We would have to go out there and finish the job with the forks.

  Mike and Sam had found a bunch of old pitchforks that had been left behind by the farmsteads previous owners and we had about ten of them. They did the trick for the kind of pest control that involved weeding through a pile of fallen zombies when we weren’t quite sure they’d all been put down for good.

  The forks were a great weapon in any situation. They had a long reach and the spikes were filed to a perfectly pointed end that could pierce even the thickest skull.

  I looked at Bree and rolled my eyes. “Great. We’re going to have a hell of a mess to clean up. Watch yourself.”

  We pulled on high, thick leather boots to protect our legs from bites and thick leather gloves for our hands and lower arms. We then wrapped duct tape around the top of the gloves and top rim of our boots for further protection. We could never be too careful because even the smallest error in judgment could mean the end of the line for anyone of us.

  Chapter Twelve

  Corpse duty was no one’s chore of choice and yet it needed to be done. The overpowering stink had reached the inner compound and the children were complaining. The smell of horse manure and goat droppings was a far greater aroma compared to the dozens of zombies rotting in the hot summer sun.

  The boys went back to the compound for the gear we needed for cleanup. They returned with the heavy duty pick-up truck and trailer to remove the corpses.

  Donning heavy aprons that were similar to the kind found in an abattoir or mortuary, we prepared ourselves for the gruesome task. We covered our noses and mouths with bandana’s to mask the stench and wore goggles to protect our eyes. With forks in hand, we cleared out the remaining zombies that were still snapping and groaning. We paused every now and then to remove any bolts that were still of use from their heads.

  The last corpse to be picked up was John’s.

  “No.” I said to Sam. “Not that one. That’s Amy’s husband, Lauren and Ashley’s dad. We’ll give him a proper burial on the property.”

  I reached inside the truck for a sheet of plastic tarp.

  “We’ll wrap him up in this but leave him by the gate for now.”

  Sam nodded with understanding while he and Mike solemnly wrapped up the body in the tarp.

  “Why don’t you two head back inside? We’ll finish this up. You should let Amy and the girls know.”

  He patted my back sympathetically and gave Bree a long, comforting hug.

  I watched the two of them with a mix of envy and sadness. Their innocent gestures subtly reminding me of how much I missed Marcus and those insignificant moments we take for granted every day. The simplest deeds; holding hands, a kiss on the forehead, a knowing look exchanged between lovers.

  Seeing them together after taking down John made me wonder what might have happened to Marcus. Although I had accepted the fact that Marcus was dead, I refused to entertain the notion that he might have turned as well.

  I felt a tear slip unheeded down my cheek and wiped it away before anyone could see. Desperately wanting to shower, I looked down at myself and realized that I was covered in gore. I felt heavy beads of sweat rolling down my back and I knew that I was absolutely filthy. The outer gear we were wore was heavy and overwhelming in the oppressive heat.

  As the truck drove away, Bree and I headed back to the compound, locking the gate carefully behind us. We stopped at the outer chain link fence to remove our gear. We hosed everything down and left it in the sun to dry.

  As the summer months had approached, we’d placed two small sheds just outside the high chain link fence. One contained supplies for clean-up and fresh, clean clothes stored neatly inside plastic storage bins. The other had two small camp style solar showers inside, with a plastic tarp dividing the two showering areas.

  We checked each other over for scratches or bites that might have gone unnoticed in the melee. Both of us came away with a clean bill of health and joined the rest of the group inside the compound.

  Amy, Amber and the two older girls waited anxiously on the other side.

  Ashley rushed over and gripped me tightly. “Mom!” She cried out. “I was so scared for you!”

  I held her face in my hands and looked in her eyes. I sadly relived the moment when I recognized her father before I put him down for good. No words came and I wept openly. I held her close and told her how much I lo
ved her. I looked at Amy and shook my head.

  “I’m so sorry.” I said to them both. “Come with me, I need to tell you….”

  My voice trailed off, the words unfinished.

  We walked away from the noisy group and retreated to the quiet of the orchard. It felt ten degrees cooler in the shade and I was grateful for its relief. Sitting at the base of an apple tree, I leaned against the rough bark. I closed my eyes, buried my face in my hands and pondered how to tell them.

  They both sat down on the ground beside me.

  “What is it Emily?” Amy finally asked.

  “John.” I said simply as I met her gaze.

  “What do mean?” Ashley asked.

  “He was the first zombie that we saw. I’m so, so sorry. I had to, I had to do it.”

  A great sob escaped from Amy and she reached for Ashley.

  My daughter looked at me in disbelief, shaking her head violently.

  “No, no, no!” She wailed loudly, tears streaming down her face.

  “His body is at the front gate. Mike and Sam will bring him in. We’ll have a proper burial for him. But I don’t think either one of you will want to see him like this.”

  Ashley sniffled and wiped at her tears angrily. Her grief quickly turned into resentment and she pushed Amy away. I watched Amy standing alone and uncomforted in her grief. Her face was buried in her hands and she wept quietly. While I wanted to console her, my daughter was desperate with her own sorrow and needed to be subdued.

  Standing up, she wiped her hands on her jeans and said with determination. “I want to see him. I want to see my father.”

  I looked at Amy questionably.

  “No, I can’t do it.” She whispered painfully. “But I’ll make a plan for his burial. You’re right, Em, it’s the least we can do.”

  Ashley stared at me almost accusingly.

  “Now.” She said with determination.

  “Ashley, are you sure?”

  I brought her to the main gate and we slipped out quietly. The others were long gone to cremate the corpses at the old farmhouse and the dirt road was quiet once again. Thick, black odorous fluids and slimy, rotting organs covered the road in front of us. The stench was still strong but there were no other zombies in sight from either direction on the lonely dirt road.

  Ashley gagged but was able to hold the contents of her stomach.

  “My God, mom, how many were there?” She asked, regarding the scene around her in horror.

  “I don’t know. A hundred? More?” I said groggily.

  The exhaustion was beginning to take over every part of my body.

  “Watch where you step. I don’t want to go through decontamination again.” I said to her. “And I don’t want you to either because I’m not waiting for you.”

  She rolled her eyes at me.

  “Whatever.” She mumbled.

  “I’m exhausted Ashley.” I said bluntly.

  I took her hand and led her to the body of her father. He was wrapped in a plastic tarp beside the wall. Kneeling down, I began to pull back the neatly folded covering but before doing so, I paused to look up at Ashley.

  “Are you sure?” I asked her again.

  Ashley merely nodded in the affirmative, as she was unable to speak. The tears rolled down her dirty face, leaving streaks of clean, pale skin behind.

  “Don’t you want to remember him the way he was? This, this thing, it isn’t him. You know that, right?”

  “Did he try to bite you?” She asked, her voice sounding small and far away.

  I sighed sadly. “Yes. Yes, he did, Ash.”

  I pulled the tarp back to reveal John’s face and then further down so she could see the tattoo on his arm. Refusing to pull the sheet down any further than that, I paused and looked at her. She didn’t need to see his hands or what was left of them.

  Although she had seen far worse the few times she had been on the wall, this was different. This was her father. One day, it might even be me. She needed to harden herself to the realities of this new world but we could only take one step at a time. And this was not the time.

  She approached slowly and cautiously, pausing to kneel beside me. With her head on my shoulder, she cried and gently stroked the side of his face that had remained somewhat uninjured. His face was in the early stages of decomposition but in this final, restful death, he looked like he was truly at peace.

  “Poor daddy.” Her voice wavered tearfully. “Poor, poor daddy. I love you. I’ll always love you.”

  I reached over and held her as she cried. There was very little I could say or do except to hold her in this moment of grief and I allowed myself to mourn as well.

  I wept openly for John, for Ashley, for Amy and Lauren but most of all, I grieved for Marcus. I knew he had met the same fate. He was either roaming the countryside as a zombie, attacking and infecting others or he’d been taken down for good. His remains likely discarded in a heap with others like him, dumped in a ditch or left to rot in the place where he finally fell.

  Our moment of retrospect was suddenly interrupted by the sound of the truck returning from their funerary task. We stood up slowly and dried our tears. I gave Ashley another, much needed hug and attempted a small smile as I stroked her tear stained cheek. We greeted the others with a wave when they pulled up alongside us. Mike jumped out from the passenger side and gave Ashley a bear hug.

  “Get in the truck you two. I’ll take care of the body.”

  With an exhausted effort I climbed into the passenger side of the truck while Ashley climbed into the backseat beside Charlie. He put his arm around her and kissed her cheek. She laid her head on his shoulder and quietly wept. The others remained respectfully silent as Mike loaded John’s body into the trailer, carefully rewrapping him in the tarp.

  “I’m so sorry Ash.” Charlie whispered to her softly.

  We entered the compound in a solemn quietude. Everyone stood waiting in a small clearing just outside the inner fence. It was the perfect site for the first gravesite of one of our own. A somber occasion indeed, it was the first time we would bury one of our own. Each of us silently hopeful that we’d never have to do it again.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The days turned to weeks. Eventually those weeks turned to months. The sun rose and set, the moon waxed and waned. The long summer days abandoned us to long autumn nights. The air became cool and crisp, carrying with it a fresh and clean feeling. The best part of all, it didn’t carry the sour aroma of the dead that often left a bitter aftertaste on our palates.

  Although the weather was still favorable, we eventually moved Sam and his sons out of their cramped tents and into the empty mobile home. The two young siblings that had arrived with them had been living with Amy for quite some time. She lavished them with much needed love and attention. They seemed to fill the void left by John’s death.

  The youngest, a girl of three named Chloe, quickly became Lauren’s best friend. Chloe’s older brother, Cooper was six and soon he was best buddies with Liam and Simon. Sarah’s little brothers, Matt and Lucas admired the older teenaged boys and followed them around most of the day. Ben and Charlie were very good natured about their new fans and allowed the boys to help them with their chores.

  The summer harvests gave us plenty of food to preserve for the winter months. The autumn yields proved to be almost as bountiful. Everyone continued to work on fruit preserves and vegetable canning because we were able to grow an ample supply of both. We wanted nothing to go to waste. Without knowing how long we would have to wait for government or military intervention, our food supply was a crucial element to our survival.

  Regardless of the great harvest, I worried about the long winter ahead. Amy was preparing seedlings to be planted in the greenhouses. There was no promise that it would work but we had to try. Guaranteed we would grow weary of what we had on supply and the lack of variety might not meet our nutritional needs. I was worried about the younger children, their physical and intellectual growth co
uld be negatively affected by malnutrition.

  Ashley and Sarah decided they would take on additional responsibilities by giving the younger ones simple lessons in math, spelling and reading. If governments around the globe had truly fallen, all of humanities collective discoveries and knowledge would eventually fade away. In a generation or two, everything we’d become and everything we’d learned as a collective consciousness, would be lost to humanity as a whole. We would be adrift in an age of darkness and there was no guarantee we would ever recover our evolutionary footing.

  Ben, Charlie and the older boys studied as well but their focus was on learning the various aspect of the compounds operations. They worked under the careful guidance of Mike and Sam. Sam knew a great deal and we continued to learn from his past experience in the pre-outbreak world.

  Prior to his entering the scene, Amy and I had very minimal knowledge of keeping everything running smoothly. Now we were all capable and knowledgeable in the maintenance of the compound’s complex equipment. Sam went so far as to create detailed reference books about the maintenance and operation of everything from the windmills to the solar panels to the water purification system.

  Amy and Amber did the same for the care of the animals to the planting, maintenance and preserving of our food. Since Amy had been a personal support worker, she had basic medical knowledge and extremely valuable first aid skills. She was the one who took great care of all our little injuries and illnesses with a soothing hand. She also boasted a knowledge of natural remedies. This familiarity with herbal treatments prevented our inventory of medication from being depleted too quickly. Sarah and Ashley were also acquiring a variety of her skilled trades. It was an asset to our little community that more than one person have a necessary set of skills. If anything happened, there would always be someone in the compound who had expertise in any given field.

  We also welcomed another small group into the compound. We discovered them hiding out at the ruinous old farmhouse where we were cremating the corpses. Amber, Mike and I were on a disposal run in early fall when we when found them. As we pulled up in the pick-up truck, they came out of the house to greet us. Exiting the vehicle, I mistook them for zombies and readied my crossbow. Amber’s quick thinking probably saved their lives. I’d grown so used to seeing only the dead wandering around that my mind seemed unable to make the distinction between the living and the dead.