Thankfully, it was over quickly for Tex. The zombies lunged in with such fury that there was nothing left of the dog but a glistening red mass of meat, a mere twenty seconds later. Dale felt the bile rise up. He backed away a few steps, turned to the sink and threw up. He heard his mom making concerned sounds from the living room.
He quickly rinsed his mouth with water over the sink, then carefully stepped around the counter and walked up to his mom. She was quietly weeping. Dale held his mom in an embrace. He breathed in his mother’s smell. She smelled like lavender and something else – something sweet, like cookies. It brought him a sense of peace.
DALE AND HIS MOM STAYED at the kitchen counter. They were afraid to move into the kitchen for fear of the zombies spotting them but were too much on edge to go sit down.
The phone ringing nearly had them jumping out of their skin. Mom snatched the phone this time.
“Tom! Oh dear ... Tom, they killed Tex!” Dale watched his mother get control of herself and listen intently. “Ok. Oh, do be careful, Tom! ... Yes, ok dear. ... Yes, we will. ... I love you too. Call back as soon as you get there!”
Claire put the phone down and wiped the freshly formed tears from her eyes.
“Your father says he can’t get on the highway. The ramp was blocked off. He is going to follow the feeder road to the next on-ramp but thinks he might have to take a different route.”
Dale nodded, not entirely surprised. “On a normal day. it takes about forty-five minutes to drive to Darren’s from here. I figure it will take him twice that long at least.”
Dale and his mom hid in their darkened living room for the next two hours. When there was still no call from dad, Dale decided to call him instead. There was no answer, and after four rings he was met with his own voice indicating to leave a message. He didn’t leave one.
For the next several hours, Dale and his mom took turns trying to reach Tom.
“Maybe he is in an area with poor reception, or maybe the cell tower in his area is down.” Dale said, trying to keep his mother from losing all hope.
“Maybe...” Was her reply.
Dale snuck a look at the zombies in the back yard later that afternoon. He spotted two zombies, still congregated around Tex’s corpse. The third one was out of his field of vision. Dale decided that with the deck and the sloping yard, these zombies would not be able to see into the house. He moved back to the living room and turned on the television.
There was no new information available. However, Dale noted that their neighborhood name scrolled along the news ticker, followed by a phone number. Above this information there was the header: ‘Neighborhoods scheduled for evacuation, October 28. Please call in now.’ Dale collected a pen and paper and noted the number down.
He looked at his mom when he finished recording the number. “Should I call them?”
Claire sat silently for a moment, deep in thought. She closed her eyes and nodded. “Yeah.” She said, her voice barely audible. She looked up at Dale and nodded again. “Yeah, I think we should.” She said, with more conviction this time.
Dale agreed. “They won’t show up until tomorrow anyway. I think that dad and Darren will make it back here before then. We’ll stick to the original plan and make this our back-up plan.”
Dale headed to the kitchen to make the call. The person on the other end was all business.
“Does anybody in the household have symptoms of HAPS?”
“No.” That was a lie. Well, he wasn’t really sure...
“Please provide your address.” Dale gave him the address.
“Please provide the phone number associated with this address and the names, ages and relationships of the people at your location.” Dale answered dutifully. He was put on hold for several minutes before the voice on the other end spoke up again.
“You are Dale Alfred Moore?”
“Yes.”
“Your name does not match the address supplied.”
“Yeah. This is my parents’ place.”
“All civilians were to stay at their own home during this state of emergency. Why did you travel to your parents’ location?”
“Uh–” Think quick, Dale!
“I was here at the start of the emergency, sir. I stayed here when I saw the President on tv, asking everybody to stay in their house and not travel.”
The other end was silent for a few seconds. “Very well.” Then, after a brief pause. “According to my records, there is a Thomas Quincy Moore listed at your location. You did not mention him.”
“Yes sir. He–”
“Was he infected with HAPS?”
“No sir.”
He could tell that the person on the line was considering this information. “Well, why is he not at your location?”
“Tom is my dad. He left to go pick up my brother. ... We haven’t heard from him since he left.”
Once again there was a pregnant pause on the other end.
“Do you expect him back tomorrow?”
Now it was Dale’s turn to pause and consider. “I don’t know.”
“Very well.” The person on the other end then proceeded to repeat all the pertinent information back to Dale and asked him to confirm.
“Yes sir, that is all correct.” Dale replied. Fucking government and their red tape. He thought.
“Please pack one bag only, with your personal belongings. We recommend clothing and toiletries only. There will be no weapons allowed into the safe zone. Be prepared for evacuation anytime from 10 a.m.to 4 P.M.. You will receive a phone call within fifteen minutes of your actual evacuation. You must comply with the instructions that you will receive at that time. Any breach of these instructions, including the one bag per person rule, can be used as grounds to refuse evacuation services to you. Is this understood?”
“Yes.”
“Thank you and good luck.” It sounded dry and rehearsed.
“Ok. Thank you. Goodbye.” Dale hung up. He turned back to the living room and spotted his mom peeking out the window around a corner of the curtains.
“Mom.” He whispered urgently. She did not stir, other than to beckon him towards her. Dale walked over and crept behind his mom, so he could see over the top of her head.
There was a small crowd of roughly a dozen zombies congregated around their earlier kills. A dead man lay in the middle of the street, less than 30 yards away, with several zombies standing around the corpse. It was the man that Dale had seen getting torn apart. He lay on his side, facing down the street. Thankfully, his features were hard to discern in the fading light. An arm lay a couple of yards away. The brutality of that arm getting torn off replayed in Dale’s mind.
He’d seen enough. He gently pulled his mom away from the curtains. They sat down on the couch. “It’s ok. We’ll be ok...” He said without much conviction.
“They’re back.” Claire stated.
“Yeah. Maybe they still have some basic memory function, that takes them back to their home, or to their last... um, kill.”
Claire just nodded. Nothing was shocking anymore. Or maybe everything was equally shocking.
Dale continued. “We should keep as quiet as possible. And we should turn off all the lights. They don’t seem to move around on their own. I haven’t seen them actively looking for people...”
Claire nodded. “You’re right. Let’s eat something and go to bed early. Something tells me that we will need all of our energy and concentration tomorrow.”
Dale smiled at his mom. She really was stronger than a lot of people gave her credit for.
Himself included.
Dale carefully snuck into the kitchen to retrieve items, while his mom instructed him what to collect. Out of the corner of his eye, he still saw the two zombies in the far corner of the back yard. They hadn’t stirred at all. Within five minutes, mother and son sat down for a quiet dinner.
They ate a meal of cold leftovers, followed by a delicious chocolate pudding. Dale had always been impressed by how hi
s mom could produce the most amazing meals. She always stated that it was the ingredients. It was the one thing she would not compromise on. She bought organic foods only, and even had one of those home-delivery services for the hard-to-find ingredients.
Dale had put their dishes back in the kitchen after supper and was returning to the living room. “Hey mom...”
“Yes Dale?”
“I’m not sure, but I think I might be infected with the syndrome...” Dale grimaced, fearing the reaction of his mother.
“I know you have been having stomach pain. Let’s not jump to conclusions yet, though.”
“You knew?”
“Of course, I knew. I’m your mother.” That really was all she needed to say.
Dale should have realized that his mom knew. She always knew when something was wrong with him. His mind drifted to his youth. The big fight with Jeffrey ‘Stinky’ Stikovic. The crush on and rejection by Angela Sandler. His first experience smoking weed... She always knew.
“So, what should we do?” Dale asked.
“Take some antacid for now and go to bed. Things might be better in the morning.”
Dale smiled at his mom’s easy optimism. “Thanks mom.” He hugged her. They stood there in the darkness, holding each other for comfort. His mom felt so fragile in his arms. And yet her strength was the rock that got the whole family though many things. Dale suddenly felt an overwhelming desire to tell his mother that he didn’t blame her for the past.
He was about to speak when the sound of gunshots could be heard somewhere off in the distance. Dale reluctantly released his mother and looked down into her face. He could barely make out her features.
“I love you, mom.” He could see his mom’s mouth stretch into a smile. “I love you too, son.”
That night was long. Dale spent many hours lying awake in his bed. The silence was often broken by sounds of violence, and Dale cringed every time he heard something. Especially when, at the edge of his hearing, he could hear people screaming.
Twice that night he heard a bump, as if somebody had walked into one of the outer walls of the house. Dale was convinced that this was exactly what those sounds were.
It was an exhausted and hurting Dale, that finally drifted off to sleep.
Chapter Fifty
Dale slept in.
When he finally awoke, he stayed in bed and looked up at his window. There was a small hole near the top of the curtains. He recalled making that hole as a young teenager. Spy games. A smile pulled the edges of his mouth upwards but faded fast enough as Dale was brought back to reality with the start of yet another cramp. He laid still until the cramp faded, studying that hole.
From his angle, he could see that the morning had dawned clear and cloudless. It looked like it was going to be a beautiful day. A late taste of summer.
Dale sat up in his bed. He had no desire to push his curtains aside and see the rest of his reality. He knew what was waiting out there for him.
He rubbed his gut. The pain had spread. Upwards. Dale sighed ruefully. Deep down he knew that he was infected. The realization did not scare him though. Today, he was going to make sure that his mother made it out alive.
You will do this for your mom.
He got up and dressed, then snuck into the bathroom and washed up. An unbidden cough rose out of his chest as he was drying his face. A quick ‘Koff-Koff-Koff’. When it passed, he saw the fine spatters of blood on the towel.
Yes, I get it. I’m dying. Just let me last one more day, ok? He pleaded with whatever deity controlled his destiny.
Dale put the towel into the hamper, making sure the blood was not visible. He quietly made his way to the kitchen and tried to see the zombies in the back yard. He could still see two of them. They had barely moved from last night’s location. Dale had a brief moment of panic when one of the zombies seemed to look straight at him. Dale ducked behind the wall.
Fuck! Did it see me? Dale stood there for half a minute, his heart beating rapidly. He dared not look again, so slowly backed away out of the kitchen.
What do I do! Dale felt the rush of fear wash over him.
Wait. Dale stopped himself.
Calm. The fuck. Down. Dale leaned against the hallway wall, trying to slow his breathing. Eventually, he managed. There was no noise outside indicating that he’d been spotted, which helped calm him down some more.
He also came to the realization that he needed a weapon. That helped focus him.
Dale looked around the kitchen and quickly dismissed the assorted knives he saw there. He needed something that would allow him to keep his distance. Something capable of blunt force trauma. He looked down the hall. His mom wasn’t up yet. His eyes passed over the other doors.
Wait!
His eyes settled on Darren’s door. Dale had an idea. He crept quietly down the hall, until he stood in front of his brother’s room.
Were the curtains shut? Dale didn’t think so. He’d have to be very careful.
He cracked the door open, got low, and slowly opened the door wide enough to squeeze his head through for a look. Thankfully, there was no activity outside of Darren’s window. Dale slowly opened the door some more.
Why oh why did I have to be fat? Dale berated himself.
Dale crawled into Darren’s room. He immediately saw his goal. But now he was faced with the next dilemma. How to get it without being spotted.
The curtains. He had to shut them.
Dale crawled to the window on his hands and knees, and with infinite slowness pulled one of the curtains, then the other. It felt like a lifetime had gone by before those curtains were shut.
The moment that the curtains were shut, his mom strode into the room. “What are you doing in here, Dale?” It shocked Dale so badly that it took him several seconds to respond. With his eyes closed, he fought for inner calm.
“Mom! You scared the shit out of me! I was closing the curtains. It’s a good thing I got them closed before you walked in! What if one of those things had seen you?”
She nodded. “Yeah. That’s why I waited until you got the curtains closed before walking in.” She said with a wink.
Dale chuckled. His chuckle turned into a cough and he quickly covered his mouth.
Damn, more blood. He realized as he studied his hand.
“Mom can you grab Darren’s baseball bats. I figure we might need them.”
She grabbed the bats as Dale surreptitiously wiped his hand on his brother’s duvet cover.
Bat in hand, Dale advanced back to the kitchen. He darted a glance into the kitchen and out the window. From his vantage point he could only see the back deck. No zombies out there though, so that was good. Dale placed his bat in the hallway just outside of the kitchen. So did his mom.
Dale and Claire ate a cold breakfast and sat around in silence. Dale had taken a peek out of the front curtains just before breakfast and could see that even more zombies had gathered outside. The situation was starting to feel hopeless.
It was eerily quiet. No man-made sounds could be heard for long periods of time. No living man-made sounds that is.
Dale and Claire heard occasional crashes as zombies ran into things and knocked them over. There was a garbage can that had been knocked over yesterday and had rolled into the street. Dale imagined the thing was being played like a soccer ball. Every time the group of zombies moved, one of them would kick that can.
Whenever Dale and his mom heard it; they froze up. Especially one time, when after that all too familiar noise they saw a shadow pass right in front of their window.
They were so fearful of making noise that they didn’t even dare turn on the television.
They packed their bags in silence. Dale noticed that his mom had packed a bag for Tom as well.
It was getting close to noon. They were sitting in the living room when suddenly Dale had a bad case of cramping and coughing simultaneously. There was no hiding the blood spatters. His mom looked at him after the fit passed, her eyes full
of concern.
“I’m ok, mom.” Dale said.
Neither person was convinced. “Hey mom.” Dale hesitated before continuing. “Do you think they’ll let me into the safe zone?”
For possibly the first time in his life, his mom did not reply with false optimism.
“I don’t know, Dale.” She looked at her son for a moment. “But if they don’t take you then I won’t be going with them either.”
Dale shook his head. “Mom. You have to!”
“I don’t ‘have to’ anything! I haven’t heard from Tom, or Darren. You’re all I have left, Dale. Tell me. What do I possibly have to live for if I lose you too!” She was getting upset.
Dale didn’t hesitate. “Live for yourself!” His mom started shaking her head, but Dale continued. “Do you think dad would want you to give up? Darren? What do you think all of us want more than anything? For you to survive this, that’s what.”
Her eyes had welled up. “I can’t. I can’t!” She repeated vehemently.
Dale moved over on the couch, so he could hold his mother’s hand.
“Yes, you can. Mom, you are the strongest person in this family. The strongest person I know ... You always were.” Claire was crying now, but Dale wasn’t finished. “Mom, Darren and Sheila might still be out there. Dad might be out there. You can’t give up on them.”
She nodded slightly as she cried.
“Mom.” She raised her eyes to meet his. “Even if they are gone... You need to go on.” She shook her head. “Mom. There will be other people out there that will need your help. That need you. I know that Dad and Darren would want the same thing. We all love you very much. We couldn’t bear the thought that you would throw your life away.” Dale was running out of steam.
Claire cried quietly for a few minutes. After she regained her composure, she straightened out the imaginary wrinkles on her clothing and stood up. “I need a cup of tea.” She announced. She looked at Dale, one eyebrow raised. He nodded and smiled.
“Just be careful you aren’t spotted.”
“Ok.” With a smile and a pat on Dale’s shoulder she made her way to the kitchen.
Apocalypsis Immortuos | Book 1 | Syndrome Page 36