Fatal Reaction, The Beginning

by M A Hollstein

  “Arrrr…!” the man bellowed, lifting his head. He coughed violently, phlegm hung from his thick bottom lip. His golden eyes glared. Mike could actually see the man’s face puffing up around them. “Bitchhh!” he snarled. “F’n bitch….!”

  “I’ll take that as a yes!” Mike said, his stomach lurched again as he envisioned the groceries scattered on the highway. Did this man harm Ellie? The thought of having to shoot him wasn’t quite as bothersome now.

  “Urrrr!” the man snarled. His eyes glanced in the direction Ellie would’ve headed to get to the motel. He then leaned forward and dry heaved some more.

  “Thanks. That’s all I need to know.”

  Mike scowled. He decided to leave the man to his change. Even though he was tempted, he couldn’t kill him unless he was provoked. It just wasn’t in his nature. He grabbed the door handle to his car when he heard the quick crunching of footsteps on the dry desert foliage behind him. Mike spun around and fired, right as the man leapt to attack. His large body crashed to the asphalt as a bullet lodged into his chest. The man bellowed and Mike shot again, making sure the infected man was down. Once his body was still, Mike shook his head with pity and slid into the driver’s seat. He didn’t bother to take a closer look. As the engine roared to life, Mike made a mental note to call the incident in as soon as the phone lines were back up, if they came back up. He hated to think that way. But as the night progressed, he was having a hard time staying positive. Maybe Sheriff Arnold was correct. Maybe this was the end. Frowning, Mike floored the accelerator and headed in the direction of the motel.

  Chapter 11

  Breathless, Ellie clutched her side and leaned forward. She never knew she’d had it in her to run for so long. But then again, she’d never been running for her life before. Now that Ellie had stopped to catch her breath, she realized how tired she really was. Running was never her thing. Heck, she didn’t even like to jog. Not willing to give in to her fatigue, Ellie forced her legs to continue forward, now at a snail’s pace. She cursed at herself for being so physically out of shape. Her muscles felt like Jell-O and each step was becoming a major challenge.

  Glancing over her shoulder, she looked behind her. From what she could see, no one was following her and there didn’t seem to be anyone else around. “Thank God,” she whispered. It’d been awhile since she’d heard any other sounds over her labored breathing and the beating of her heart that was pounding in her ears. She wondered how much farther it was to reach the motel. She prayed she was headed in the right direction. As far as she knew, she was. She’d moved more inland, away from the highway, because she’d felt it might be safer to be in the desert.

  A part of her wanted to travel along the highway so that she knew she was headed in the right direction. The other reason was so that someone might see her walking and stop to help her. Though, that was also the problem. She didn’t know if she wanted to take that chance. What if whoever stopped had good intentions, but was infected? What if I ran into men with bad intentions? Men like the ones trying to take my car. Goosebumps covered her arms at the thought. She’d never forget the look on that man’s face. She knew exactly what he’d planned on doing to her.

  Sick to her stomach, Ellie pushed the thought from her head. She tried to think positive. Soon she’d be running into the road that turns off from the main highway, the road with the motel that Officer Wilson told her about.

  Officer Wilson… Ellie’s mind drifted to her phone conversation with him. She held onto the hope that he’d be on his way to the state line right about now. And maybe, just maybe, he’d see her car stranded on the side of the road. He’d help her. She could trust him. Unless, of course, he too was infected. She tried not to think about him being infected. She needed to focus on something positive. He’d help her. She was sure of it. Not really believing the story she was telling herself about Officer Wilson coming to her rescue, she glanced in the direction she believed the highway was in. She prayed she hadn’t gotten turned around. The miles and miles of desert surrounding her all looked the same. Scrub brush and prickly dried up plants were everywhere. It all looked the same. Maybe she should head towards where she thought the highway was and walk along it so that Officer Wilson could see her.

  No, Ellie told herself. Officer Wilson coming to my rescue is wishful thinking. I’m on my own. Besides, it’s safer to stay away from the highway.

  Just then, Ellie thought she saw something. A light. She squinted to get a better look. She did see a light. Up ahead and over to her right, there was a slight twinkling. She bet the turn off from the highway was right up there. She looked towards the twinkling lights to her right. She bet they belonged to the motel. If she cut diagonally through the desert, taking her farther away from the highway, she bet she could get there pretty quick.

  As fast as her legs would allow, which didn’t seem so fast anymore, Ellie headed through the desert. Scratchy plants tore at her skin. The plant life seemed to grow thicker and denser the further she wandered from the highway. She cursed herself for not having worn jeans.

  Trying to be a bit more careful, Ellie headed forward with the hopes of a nice motel room that she could lock herself away in until this virus epidemic thing was either contained, or she could find a way home.

  ***

  Amanda slid into the driver’s seat of the patrol car and shut the door. She let out an exasperated sigh. She furiously fumbled with the door, trying to find the lock. It took her awhile to figure it out. Eventually her trembling fingers found the lock and she was able to lock the doors manually. She then searched for keys. Nothing.

  “Damn!” she cussed, staring wearily out the passenger window across from her. Gnawing on her bottom lip, she slunk down into the seat as low as she could while still being able to keep an eye on the hospital. From what she could see, the horde of infected people seemed to be thinning out and moving away from the doors. “Thank God,” she whispered. The last thing she needed was for them to break through the doors and come after her. Her shoulders began to relax as the tension eased. The streets seemed baron. It was eerie to be sitting in downtown San Diego and not see anyone about. Well, not anyone who wasn’t infected anyway. What am I going to do?

  Amanda took in a deep breath, held it for a moment and then exhaled. Her eyelids were suddenly feeling heavy. She hadn’t realized how exhausted she was until now that she was somewhere hidden. Somewhere safe. Well, hopefully safe enough. Being locked up in a cop car sure beat kneeling next to a dumpster all night. She figured she’d probably stick it out until morning, using the car for shelter. She wasn’t quite sure what else to do. And she wasn’t about to wander the streets shoeless and in the dark with creepy infected people.

  Amanda glanced again at the hospital. She wondered why that was. Why was it that the people infected were attacking people? And why weren’t they attacking one another? They’d been clambering all over the door trying to get at her, but none of them bothered fighting each other. So odd. Everything was so odd.

  Looking at the dash, Amanda tapped some of the buttons. She grabbed a walkie-talkie, or whatever it was called, she wasn’t sure, and pushed the button. Nothing happened. If only she had the key, she could start up the car and call for help. Then she remembered the cop inside the hospital that’d been salivating on the door, chomping his teeth at her. Was there any help? Would someone come to my aid? This patrol car had been abandoned, same as the fire truck parked behind it. How often did you see that? “Never,” she whispered, answering her own question. It felt as if her heart dropped into the depths of her stomach at the thought. No one would be coming to her rescue.

  In a warped sort of way, she thought life was ironic. She’d spent a good portion of her youth hiding from the cops. She generally had been up to no good. In fact, she’d taken quite a few rides locked up in the backseat of patrol cars similar to this one. She ran her fingertips over the steering wheel. It was kind of an odd feeling sitting in the front seat, let alone the driver’s seat. Now,
of all things, she wished to be able to call out to the police for help.

  Amanda slunk further down in the seat trying to hide. She wished she could recline it, but couldn’t. The car obviously wasn’t made for comfort. She felt safer, not being so visible through the windows. She leaned her head towards the center console and made herself as comfortable as possible. Her eyelids were growing heavy again. She wasn’t sure she could keep them open for much longer. She told herself that she’d let herself get a couple hours of sleep. Then, hopefully, when the sun came up, the world would look different. She prayed that when she awoke, everything would be back to normal.

  Chapter 12

  “Shhh…,” Joanna hushed her husband. “I just got him to sleep. You’re gonna wake him.”

  “Fever come down?” Bill asked, peeking worriedly over his wife’s shoulder into their son’s room. Benjamin was tucked in with his sheets and navy blue blanket tucked beneath his chin. His favorite teddy bear with the flattened stuffing and matted fur was lying next to him. He’d carried his teddy around everywhere when he was toddler. Now he was eight and his buddy was more of a security blanket. He cuddled with it to keep away nightmares at night. Bill frowned. He hoped that the teddy bear also protected against nightmares during the day.

  “No.” Joanna shook her head, trying not to cry. She’d seen the news reports. They’d both been watching up until the cable went out. “Not yet. I’m sure the Tylenol will work… always does… We just need to give it more time.”

  “What time did you give it to him?”

  “I just gave him another dose,” she shrugged. “Maybe a half hour ago.”

  “But the first dose didn’t work.”

  Frowning, Joanna shook her head again. Tylenol always worked for him. In the past, it’d been the miracle of all miracles whenever Benjamin had the flu.

  Bill didn’t want to bring it up. He hated to even think of it, but he had to. The reality was that he could have it. “You don’t think…”

  “No!” she snapped, her voice wavering. “No! Benji’s fine!”

  “You sure?”

  “Of course I’m sure!” she whispered harshly, firmly shutting the door behind her. “He’s not one of those... things. He’s not infected! So don’t even think it!”

  “Okay,” Bill said, knowing how upset his wife was. Her bloodshot eyes stared daggers at him. He knew she blamed him for their son’s condition. He should’ve never taken Benjamin with him to the corner store to grab some food. He should’ve gone alone. He didn’t believe that there was much to worry about. Well, he believed it enough to know he wanted to stock up on some snacks in case this so called epidemic were for real and they were trapped inside for a few days. Joanna had been upset about it. She didn’t think it was safe to bring Benjamin with him and he’d yelled at her. He’d called her paranoid. Man, if only he could tell her he was sorry. If only he’d have listened to her then none of this would’ve happened. That little girl in the store, she just went berserk and bit him, right before his eyes. Benjamin screamed and next thing he knew, people were running, screaming, and panicking. They began to trample each other and started grabbing food from the shelves and running. And his boy had a set of teeth marks on the back of his leg. Thank God he was wearing jeans. Somehow though, the girl had managed to nick his skin. He hadn’t thought it was enough to spread it. And even though he didn’t want to believe it, he was positive that Benji had been infected because an hour or so later, he started feeling sick, feverish. What else could it be? He prayed that it could be something else, anything else.

  Sighing, Bill headed for the small living room. “I’m gonna check the news,” he said. “See if things have settled down some.”

  Joanna walked right past him, not even acknowledging him. She headed for the kitchen. Bill knew she was worried about Benjamin and decided not to push her. He’d give her some space. Leaning forward and grabbing the remote from the beat-up walnut and glass coffee table, Bill pushed the ‘On’ button. The old projection screen, which took up half the space in the little room, lit up a bright turquoise blue.

  “Huh,” he said, clicking on the cable channels. Nothing happened. The channels were changing, but the screen stayed blue. Bill directed the remote to the cable box and turned it off and on, thinking that maybe he needed to reset it. Still nothing happened. The screen was still blue. “Figures,” he groaned, getting up from the couch. He manually pushed the button on the cable box, switching it off and on. He then checked the connection of the cable to make sure it wasn’t loose. Everything was fine. Frowning, he pulled open the little panel on the front of the TV and tried changing the input. That didn’t work either.

  Bill wandered to the kitchen where his wife was washing dishes and sniffling. He came up behind her and lovingly placed a hand on her shoulder. “It’ll be all right, you know.” He could feel Joanna tense beneath his touch. She stared out the kitchen window in the direction of the swing set in the backyard. “Ben’s gonna be fine.”

  Joanna nodded and returned to washing the dishes without saying a word.

  “Cable’s out,” he said, picking up the phone off the kitchen counter next to a pile of junk mail and bills. That corner of the counter was always cluttered with mail. Sorting through the bills and junk mail was a never-ending battle in their household. “Do you know the number?”

  Joanna sniffled and shook her head. “On the counter,” she cleared her throat. “I paid it a couple days ago.”

  Bill shuffled through the mail, searching for the cable bill. When he found it, he picked up the phone and dialed the number. Nothing happened. “What the…” Bill pushed the ‘Talk’ button. He pressed the phone to his ear. No dial tone. “Was the phone left off the hook again?”

  Joanna shrugged and then closed the dishwasher.

  Bill hit the redial button. The phone redialed the number. The little battery symbol on the screen showed full power. He again pressed the phone to his ear. Nothing.

  “Phone lines must be down,” he muttered. “Where’s your cell?” He’d accidentally left his at work and had been too lazy to turn around on Friday to go get it. He’d been half way home at the time when he’d realized he’d forgotten it.

  “In my purse,” she said. Swiping tears from her eyes with the back of her hand.

  Bill snatched Joanna’s purse from one of the chairs at the small kitchen table where she always put it. He reached inside and found it beneath her wallet. Her battery was almost dead. He’d probably have to plug it in while talking to the cable company. This could take hours. He hated having to call them. It never was a fast and easy process. He’d more than likely get a hold of someone overseas at a help desk in India. Then he’d be put on hold several times until he’d be able to either get someone to help him or schedule an appointment to have a technician come out. Hopefully that wouldn’t be the case. Hopefully they’d be able to fix the problem over the cable lines.

  Typing in the phone number on the touch screen, Bill pushed ‘Send’ when he heard a loud crash coming from the other room.

  Joanna’s eyes grew large. “Benji!” she shrieked.

  “I’ll check…”

  Ready to race from the room, Joanna held her hand up at Bill. “I’ll check on him!” she snapped. “You’ve done enough already! Call the damn cable company!”

  Bill frowned, the phone felt heavy in his hand.

  Joanna fled from the kitchen. Bill heard another loud crashing sound. This time he knew it was coming from Benjamin’s room. He wanted to chase after Joanna, but knew better. She blamed him for Benji’s being sick. He’d try calling the cable people again, and then he’d peek his head in Benjamin’s room.

  Bill redialed the number and pressed the cell phone to his ear. Nothing.

  “Are you kidding me?” He looked at the screen. The battery level was at 6% and the little icon at the top of the screen was red. Maybe the low battery was keeping him from dialing out. He found the charger connected to the wall next to the home phone a
nd hooked up the cell. He put the phone on speaker and tried again. Still nothing.

  “What the hell?” he cussed, losing his temper. He slammed a fist on the counter. At the same moment, the lights went out, bathing him in darkness. The room grew eerily silent as the refrigerator, air conditioning, and all the rest of the noises that were a usual constant, came to a halt. Bill turned on the cell phone, using the glow to light up the kitchen counter. He worked his way over to the junk drawer where he kept an emergency flashlight when he heard a bloodcurdling scream and another loud crash.

  “Joanna!” he yelled, wrenching open the junk drawer so hard that it crashed to the floor. Frantically, he flipped the drawer over and rummaged through the contents until he found the small black metal flashlight. Another scream rang out into the otherwise silent house. Tossing the phone onto the counter, Bill ran to Benjamin’s room. “Joanna?” he yelled, grabbing hold of the doorknob to Benji’s door and yanking it open. “Ben!”

  He shined the high-powered beam of light into the room. The beam swooped through the darkness until it landed on his son’s face. Bill took a step back, his breath catching in his throat. Benjamin was standing next to his bed, face distorted and puffy, with what looked like blood, dripping from his lips. He could hear his wife sobbing.

  “Joanna?” Bill quickly scanned the room. “Ben, where’s your mother?” Benjamin didn’t answer. He just stood there, staring at him.

  Bill rushed toward the sound of his wife’s muffled sobs. Finally, the beam of light landed on Joanna’s back. She was curled up on the floor near a toppled over bookshelf. Books were scattered around her. She was clutching her neck, blood oozed from beneath her fingers.

  “Oh my God!” Bill rushed to her side.

  “Get out!” she screamed. “Get out!”