Things Change (Book 1): Things Change
Page 1
Things Change
GW Citroner
Copyright © 2019
gwcitroner.com
This novel is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means without prior permission from the author.
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This book is dedicated to my beloved wife Amanda. All roads lead home when I’m with you.
Prologue
“Are you feeling Ok, Mommy?”
Carol Tully pulled the blanket from her face to answer. “I’m not feeling well, Ashley. Mommy has a bad headache, and the light hurts my eyes.”
“But I’m hungry Mommy. Can I eat the new cereal you got me?”
“Can you get it yourself, baby girl? You’re almost seven now.” Carol closed her eyes briefly, but that didn’t relieve the excruciating pain. She’d always suffered migraines, but this was unbelievably worse than any previous attack. “Let Mommy rest for a while, I’ll feel better soon, promise.”
The family’s health insurance had gone months ago, along with her husband’s well-paying job at the bank. Although his present position brought in enough to make ends meet, it didn’t provide benefits. They were one medical emergency away from losing the house and that meant her migraines went untreated. She resolved to tough it out rather than risk an unpayable medical bill.
The little girl’s face clouded with worry. “Do you want me to make you breakfast too?”
Carol’s skin itched and her eyes burned. Speaking became increasingly difficult, but she replied hoarsely. “No baby. I’m really hungry; but I can’t even sit up. Just let me rest a bit. I’ll grab a bite later.” She covered her face again.
Ashley closed the door behind her as she left the room. Getting a freshly cleaned bowl out of the dishwasher, she served herself and sat at the table. Hearing her mother moan loudly, she was disturbed by how strangely it sounded. There was an odd trilling note that a human being shouldn’t be able to make. She went back to the bedroom.
“Mommy, do you want me to call someone?” Carol writhed underneath the blanket, but didn’t reply. Ashley gingerly pulled back the covers. What she saw made her run back to the kitchen. She picked up the phone with shaking hands and dialed 911.
Saturday morning was usually a busy day for emergency services. There were always casualties to pick up after Friday night’s festivities, but this morning was different. The call center was overwhelmed with people requesting assistance due to severe headaches and body pain. Overworked ambulance companies were reporting incredibly long response times; some over an hour. Emergency Medical Dispatcher Darlene Feldman was doing her best to get help were it was needed. “Charlie, I’ve got a little girl who says her mother’s eyes are bleeding and that she’s unresponsive, but I’ve got no one available to respond. She’s a half mile from you, can you assist?”
“All my crews are out, but I’ll see what I can do. ETA will probably be an hour from now.”
“Nothing sooner?”
“Sorry, Darlene. She’s gonna have to wait, I’ve never seen it this bad.”
“I’ll let her know. Thanks.”
It was two hours before paramedics arrived; they walked in through the wide-open front door and found Ashley in the kitchen. Her little body was torn apart, blood covering the tile floor. Red footprints led out a backdoor, quickly disappearing in the moist grass.
Paramedic Cade Jones reported the incident dispassionately, even as he seethed at the sight of the murdered child. “Dispatch, this is 3310 at 52 Willoughby; one fatality, send law enforcement.” He looked at his partner. “Ty, this is the third one today.”
One
“No Nancy, I can’t just grab a flight.” He switched his phone to the other ear as the discussion with his wife stretched out. “Customer service isn’t answering the phones anymore and the airports have been locked down to slow the rate of infection. Since yesterday, there are roadblocks on all of the roads going out of town; how the hell do you expect me to make it all the way to Lafayette? ”
He listened to her response, becoming increasingly frustrated at her stubborn insistence and his helplessness.
“Honey, I know it’s scary but you and Jesse need to sit tight right now.” Eyes tightly shut he thought fiercely to himself please God, whatever you do, don’t say I told you so, but bitterness won out over common sense.
He almost whispered it. “You could have stayed here instead of pulling Jess out of school last month and running off to your mother’s in Louisiana.”
She wailed inconsolably. “This isn’t my fault, Dan!” The line went dead as she abruptly cut the call. His heart fell with the realization that he didn’t even get to talk to his son. Kicking a fireplace brick, he stubbed his toe painfully.
He tried calling her back at least a dozen times, but she wouldn’t pick up.
The ice tinkled and bounced as it hit the bottom of the glass, but the Scotch he poured carefully, not wanting to waste a single drop. He carried the drink, his fourth, back to the living room and sat in the old overstuffed, green leather recliner he’d loved since first seeing it on the cluttered sales floor of a thrift shop in Portland.
Nancy hated it, but it had pride of place in front of the old stone fireplace that warmed the house on cold nights. Earlier, he’d raved incoherently as the gravity of the situation gradually sank in.
Now, he sipped thoughtfully and planned.
While he and Nancy had their share of problems living together, their son was the center of his life and the only bright spot in an otherwise monotonous existence. He hadn’t intended to make a career with the fire department; he’d been twenty-two and back home from a four-year stint as a Marine Corps infantryman.
Feeling his folks didn’t want him to stay longer than necessary, mostly because that’s what they kept telling him. He grabbed the first steady job that would keep a roof over his head, a gig with Hillsboro Fire and Rescue. He even studied in his off time and managed to become a paramedic as well.
It was supposed to be temporary. He figured something better would eventually come along. But in the ten years since, he’d found a wife he truly loved, had a great kid who idolized his firefighter dad, and bought an old Victorian fixer-upper that kept him busy every weekend.
Everything was going fine until things changed.
It started with one patient in a Maryland hospital complaining of severe headache. A few hours later, he was barely recognizable as human and rampaging through the hospital. Cornered in the neonate unit, he was shot on sight. The responding police officer vomited after seeing what was left of the newborns.
Autopsy results revealed it was a retrovirus of unknown origin. Although found not to be universally infectious, those it did affect rapidly transformed into something monstrous, violent, and hungry. Within weeks, it had spread across the country.
***
His phone began vibrating insistently almost as soon as he sat down. Dan knew it couldn’t be Nancy. She was always one to give her emotions lots of time to fester and rot. One of many reasons things haven’t been working out between them. Checking the caller-id, he saw it was a friend.
“What’s up, Ty?” He may have slurred slightly, but tried to speak more clearly than the three S
cotches he’d downed in rapid succession warranted.
“Listen Dan, I know you’ve already pulled your shift this week, but the Chief says we’re too short to cover the city tonight and Station Three needs their men to help the cops control access to Century Boulevard, if it gets bad enough we’ll be called in too. It’s not just you, Dan, they need everybody. Cade’s already agreed to pull the extra shift. We can’t do this without all hands.”
Dan sighed, resigned to the inevitable. One last shift and then he was going to find a way to get to his wife and kid. He owed his friends that much. What happened after that wasn’t important. Somehow, he’d get his family, and figure something out to keep them safe. “Sure Ty, I’ll be there. I’ll meet you at the station.”
“Good to hear, buddy. Hold on a sec, Cade wants say something.”
The man’s voice was deep and raspy as only a pack a day habit could make it, but conveyed deep emotion. “Danny, listen. I know you got your own worries right now, we’re worried about Nance and Jess too. Hold on a sec.” The line went quiet for a few seconds.
“Ty said that if you want to go get your people after tonight, we’ll come with. A big road trip, it’ll be like old times.”
“Thanks, Cade. You guys are great, I’ll be there soon.” He cut the call, putting his phone down on the table.
Then all hell broke loose.
Window shattering inwards, a body thumped to the floor. Broken glass crunched and squeaked as it rose, moving jerkily toward the seated man. Blood red eyes, skin impossibly white and peeling in sharp, jagged strips like razor grass, it filled the room with a stench like spoiled meat and raw sewage.
Dan leaped to his feet, tipping over the side table and sending both phone and drink to the floor, the intruder’s stink mixing nauseatingly with a sharp odor of spilled booze.
He ran upstairs to the bedroom, where Nancy had grudgingly tolerated a shotgun he kept between the mattress and bed frame on his side. Tonight, at least, his paranoia was justified.
It made an eerie staccato warble. He knew this one wasn’t just infected, but completely changed.
Pulling the gun from its hiding spot, he jacked a round into the chamber. Twisting toward the door, he tripped over a throw rug. Chin hitting the floor the gun flew out of his hands. White, cracked fingers probed the landing as it crept cautiously up the stairs. Dan was surprised. Shit, this one’s smart enough to be careful. Throwing himself back against the bed, he saw stars as his head struck painfully on a sharp corner. It rose before him, the sight of its wide, broken-toothed mouth and cracked face freezing him on the spot. Feet wearing the stained and tattered remnants of socks stepped on the dropped weapon. It paused to examine the gun. Dan froze. Does it remember how that thing works?
Distracted, it lifted the weapon with distorted hands, a sharply spiked thumb poking through the trigger guard. He held his breath, waiting. Incredibly, it turned the barrel toward its own face and sniffed the barrel.
He shouted hoarsely. “Fuck you!” He threw the first thing he could reach; a heavy lamp that fell with him when he tripped. The barrel smacked into its gaping mouth, and it jerked the trigger. A deafening boom and the walls were spattered.
He stared at the gently steaming mess, then at his shirt. He was covered in hot blood smelling of rotting meat and sun-baked landfill. Panicking, he remembered that contact with an infected’s body fluid is all it takes. Absent natural immunity, a migraine and fever would start within minutes. Soon after, the blood vessels in his eyes would burst from skyrocketing blood pressure. Finally, the skin lost hair and pigmentation before cracking into razor sharp, jagged spikes. Reason would vanish, replaced by mindless hunger and murderous rage. Within hours, the infection would turn someone into a red-eyed, albino monstrosity.
Of course the only change most people had to worry about was going from whole to bite-sized chunks if they were anywhere near one of them.
Dan raced to the shower; he didn’t really believe he could clean himself before catching the virus, but the stink was unbearable. Clean and wearing fresh clothes, he braced a heavy bookshelf against the shattered window and returned to his spot by the fireplace, his shotgun leaning on an armrest.
Bottle in hand he drank, and waited.
He tried to call Nancy one more time, to say goodbye, if nothing else. But the connection quit before she could pick up. Things fall apart, he thought sadly to himself.
First, the headache, and then skyrocketing blood pressure. He wasn’t making it to the station tonight.
Two
Waking with a start and one hell of a hangover, he was surprised to be in his chair, somewhat sane, and entirely human. He had slept assuming the migraine and fever would wake him with enough time to blow out his own brains.
Smiling wryly, he considered his luck. Head pounding he rose gingerly to his feet and headed to the bathroom, desperately needing to relieve himself. Washing his hands, he looked himself over in the mirror. He was pale, eyes bloodshot – but otherwise normal.
No harm in making sure.
His phone was under the coffee table. There were six notifications, five from Ty.
Ty: Dan where R U?
Ty: Shits getting real, Dan. Call me.
Ty: Its chaos here.
Ty: Infected r here. Bad. Stay away.
Ty: Bad night. Coming over. Hope ur OK.
The last was a heart-breaking voicemail from Nancy. We’re scared, Danny. I’m sorry and I still love you. Please come and get us, we need you.
He quickly tried calling and then texting her back, but no luck. He had bars but couldn’t connect. Forget email – the wifi was still on, but there was no internet connection.
Something banged hard on the door and jiggled the knob. He jerked his face away from the screen and stepped toward the gun.
“Dan you stupid bastard, I was texting you all night! I think everybody’s dead. I thought they got you too.” It was Ty. He shouted through the shelves that blocked the shattered living room window.
Letting him in, Dan said shakily, “look around buddy, one of them almost did.” Ty took a deep sniff, and quickly regretted it. “What happened?”
“It was right after we spoke last night, one of them broke right through the window. I ran upstairs for the gun, it followed.”
“You took out the son of a bitch!”
“Nah, poor thing must have been depressed. It committed suicide.”
“Stop messing around. What happened?”
“Stupid thing picked up a gun I dropped. It managed to shoot itself.
“No joking?”
“No joke.”
“You’re a lucky bastard. What else is going on?”
“Sit down and we’ll talk. You can tell me about last night. Want some coffee?”
He told Ty about his last conversation with Nancy while he got coffees, toast and a few aspirins for his hangover. “Where’s Cade?”
Ty’s face fell. “Let me start from the beginning.” He sipped some coffee and then cleared his throat. “It was crazy all day, we were scrambling to reach every call, but there wasn’t much we could do once we got there. Usually the cops were there first or showed up seconds after. They were checking eyes and shooting anyone who went hot and red. No questions asked. If anyone was bit or scratched – they shot them too. It was crazy, we were freaking out.” Taking another long sip, he breathed a heavy sigh. “But that was nothing compared with what happened after sundown. We were ordered to set up every available vehicle along Century Boulevard to stop anybody getting on or off the highway, but I guess people became more desperate the darker it got. Folks trying to get through town swarmed us. Cars were backed up for miles.”
He paused for a moment, his broad, rough face clouding. “What happened next was a nightmare. The infected showed up. I don’t know how many, but enough to start a full-blown panic. All those people, they were crying, yelling for help, or just screaming. Law enforcement fired at the mutants but only hit people in the crowd.”
“I guess they didn’t have it locked up as tight as they thought. Anyway, after the infected started working their way through the crowd all bets were off. We ran away from there as fast as we could. We almost bought it when a bunch of people came running at us. I tried yelling that there was nothing but trouble ahead, but they kept coming. When I picked myself up again, I saw why they were in such a rush. Two of ‘em was tearing up what was left of some lady in the middle of the street ahead of me.”
Dan shook his head. “Christ.”
“You know Cade. More guts than brains. He ran straight at them, pulling that old Glock he loves so much. One of those bastards smacked him aside as if he weighed nothing. He was on the ground, chest shredded. He didn’t get to fire a shot. I thought I was going to lose my mind watching them chew on her. There was a wet sucking noise when they stuffed their mouths with fresh chunks. I pulled myself together and ran to get Cade. He had deep scratches and a banged head. They were really into their meal, not paying attention to anything else, so I grabbed his gun and shot the two of them, toot-sweet. Then I got us out of there as fast as I could. I wasn’t thinking about the risk of infection when I pulled him away. We sat in an alley to wait it out. I put the gun between us in case something showed up. We just sat down and talked about stuff we’d done. Like that fishing trip we took last year, the pub crawl we did after his divorce went through and he kept the house. Your kid’s last birthday party when Nance tripped coming out of the kitchen and dropped the cake.”
“You both got away, then. Where’s Cade?”
Ty stared at the table. “Then he got a headache. A little later, his eyes went bloody and he was hotter than an oven. When his skin began cracking, he begged me to end it. The pain must have been really bad.” He swallowed convulsively. “I told him I loved him, and that I’d see him on the other side. Then I blew his brains out.”