N87 Virus | Prequel |Outbreak

by Kadin, Karri

  During the night the TV stopped broadcasting newsrooms and regular shows. Now it just live-streamed videos from cameras set up around the world, frequently switching between streams. Traffic cams, a reporter’s camera that had been left running when their broadcasts had been interrupted by death and destruction, random people who set up video to stream from their homes, pointed toward the street. The world had collapsed. No one knew what to do. No one was coming to help. She was on her own.

  Timber’s bark and deep growls pulled Veronica from her tomb of despair. She tried to ignore him, but he wasn’t letting up, his calls growing more frantic by the second. She walked to the window closest to his house and peered outside. Timber was still safely behind his chain-link fence, teeth bared, jet black hair standing on end. Outside the fence, pacing between Timber’s house and hers was a man. Black veins covered every part of his exposed skin, some of which seemed to be fading. He was one of those things, those monsters. His back was to Veronica as he fixated on Timber. Fresh blood covered his hands.

  He lunged at the dog as he tried to jump the rickety fence to reach him. His bloody grip on the fence pole caused him to slip. His clothes caught on the loose wires, and his body weight pulled part of the chain-link from the metal poles. The man thrashed around, trying to stand but just tangled himself more. He couldn’t escape the entrapment of the fence. He struggled against the links, trying to reach Timber. Timber took off across the yard, out of the reach of the man’s hands. Smart dog. Timber growled and barked and even snapped at his attacker a few times. But he always stayed out of reach. Poor pooch knew he was in over his head, but he would not surrender. The man-thing kept trying to free himself. The metal sliced into his skin, leaving bloodstains on his shirt, but he didn’t seem to care or even notice. His eyes never left Timber.

  Veronica watched Timber barking in the corner of his yard, but his entire body trembled, betraying his fear. Still, he remained poised for battle the moment the Infected freed himself from the fence. Veronica glanced over at the white sheet covering her husband before turning back toward the chaos on the other side of the glass. The monster man had made it to his feet and freed one arm. Still tangled in the wire, he pushed forward toward his target, dragging the chain link fencing behind him. Veronica took off to her garage and grabbed the axe off the wall Alejandro had always used to cut up wood for their fire pit. She opened the garage door and ran until she was right behind the Infected. He was one arm’s length away from having Timber in his grasp. Timber had backed himself up against the fence, cornered by the sick man and his chain-link attachment. Timber continued to growl and snap at the man, refusing to be anyone’s lunch. The blood covered man was so focused on Timber he didn’t even acknowledge her approach. Her heart pulsated in her ears like a war drum, and her lungs were on fire, threatening to burn a hole in her chest. She tightened her grip on the axe.

  Veronica raised the axe high and brought it down on the attacker’s head. His skull split, dark blood sprayed from the gash raining on to the ground. He tried to turn around, but was off balance and stunned by the blow. She brought the axe back down on his skull again. Blood splattered across her face and shirt. His body collapsed and chunks of pinkish brain matter protruded between the pieces of broken bone. Veronica pulled the axe from its resting spot. Timber stared at her, hair still on end, but no longer barking. Veronica kneeled and patted her knee.

  “Timber, come here. It’s okay. I won’t hurt you.” She tried to soften her voice, hoping that would help suffocate the scream that threatened to claw its way out of her. Timber took a cautionary step in her direction and she patted her leg again. “It’s okay. You’re such a brave perrito. A fighter. Come here.” She held her hand out, palm open.

  Timber slowly walked over, eyes locked on her face. He nudged her hand with his cold nose, then pushed forward until her hand rested on his large head. She rubbed his head roughly, and he pulled his head away.

  “We need to get back inside. There could be more of them nearby.”

  She lifted the collar of her shirt and wiped her face on the inside fabric. Blood and brains clung to the axe blade. She wiped it on the grass, cleaning it as best she could.

  Veronica made her way to the side yard with Timber right by her side. As she stepped through the downed fencing, her foot caught on something. She had to pull a few times before it came free. An empty dog bowl was stuck on her foot. She popped it off and looked at Timber.

  “You probably haven’t eaten in days. Are you hungry?” Timber wagged his tail and whimpered.

  Veronica tried the back door of Timber’s former home. Locked. She looked around but didn’t see anywhere someone would put a hide-a-key. She stood in the silence for a few minutes, listening to her surroundings. Once satisfied no one was near, she held the axe like a battering ram and closed her eyes as she slammed it through the windowpane on the door. She stuck her arm through the new opening and unlocked the door.

  “We have to be quick.” Timber stayed pressed against her side as they entered the house.

  The dog food was easy to find, but she had never seen such a large bag in her life. She had to throw it over her shoulder and balance the axe on top to carry it all. Thankfully, Timber stayed at her side and never got under her feet.

  When they were safely inside her home, she set up bowls of food and water for Timber. He wagged his tail as he greedily ate and then lapped up water like he had never had a drink before. Veronica opened a can of peaches for herself and sank down on the floor next to Timber.

  A buzz sounded from the tabletop. Then another. Veronica jumped up and grabbed her phone. She was getting a call, an actual call. Unknown number.

  “Hello?”

  “Veronica, it’s Marc…”

  “Marc! I tried to call you! Did you get my message?”

  “Yes. I’m sorry about Alejandro, but I need you to focus right now. I have little time. You have to leave. It’s not safe there.”

  “I can’t leave! I have nowhere to go and those things are outside!”

  “Listen! What’s left of the government is bombing major cities as a last-ditch effort to slow down the virus. They are going to bomb Atlanta. That will send survivors and the sick flooding into your area. It’s about to get a lot worse. I can send a helicopter for you. They will take you to a bunker at White Sands Missile Range in New Mexico. They have enough supplies there to last years.”

  “This can’t be real. I can’t do this. Not without Alejandro. I can’t.”

  “Veronica, you can and you will. He would want you to. Leave. I can’t get the helicopter that far east. They refuse to use that much fuel for a nonpaying guest, but I can get it close when they are out picking up customers that purchased space in the bunker. I’ll send you coordinates for the pickup point. They will be there in three days on their next run. They will arrive at dawn. Be there. They won’t wait more than an hour, if that. You need to be there before them.”

  “Okay. Okay. I think I can do that. I guess I don’t have a choice.”

  “No thinking. Just doing—you’re right, there is no alternative. Now it’s extremely important that you don’t get sick. They won’t let you in if you’re sick. They will put a bullet in your brain before you even get on the helicopter if they think you’re sick. Avoid all bodily fluids from Infected, it spreads in everything. Please, remember…” The line went dead.

  “Marc? Marc? Hello?” Her phone dinged in her hand. A text appeared on her screen from Marc. A simple array of numbers with a date and a time. The longitude and latitude for the pickup spot. Veronica dropped the phone to the floor and cried. Timber rested his head on her lap, licking her hand. She softly rubbed his head. Veronica laid across the floor and Timber cuddled up against her body. She threw an arm over him and cried into his fur. Once her tears ran dry, she set up and kissed him on his head.

  “Are you ready for a road trip?” Timber shuffled his enormous feet as if he was doing a little happy dance.

  Veronica
walked to Alejandro’s car in the garage and found an old atlas shoved down between the seats. Outdated was better than nothing. Paper was better than digital because who knew how long her phone would continue to work. She brought the maps inside and found the pickup location. She ripped the pages she needed from the book. Using a red pen, she mapped multiple ways she could get there. It would take a day if things were normal, but things were far from normal. If she didn’t run into trouble, she could make it. She picked a route that would take more time, but it snaked around larger cities. Her and Alejandro’s cars were too small and low to the ground. If she needed to leave the roadway, she would become an appetizer in a tin can.

  The sun was setting, casting an orange hue across the sky. Veronica didn’t want to have any lights on in the house after dark, so she needed to hurry. She packed up everything she could think she would need in the rugged backpack from the neighbors’ house. Matches, the limited canned food she had left, some socks, underwear, female products, among a few other essentials. She set it by the door along with her tent, a case of water, a small gas can from the garage that was only half full, her axe, and Timber’s food.

  She peeked through her blinds just as the streetlights were coming on. She had to find a suitable vehicle. Something that could handle back roads and maybe mow down a few of the sick if needed. She spotted a white Jeep in a driveway four houses down. Perfect.

  The street was empty and quiet. She cracked open her front door and listened. Silence. She picked up the axe and stepped outside. Timber followed, pressed against her side.

  “No, Timber. Inside.” He gave her hand a lick and whimpered. “Inside. It’s not safe.” He just stared up at her. “Fine. Be quiet.” Veronica held a finger to her lips.

  She stayed close to the houses in the shadows as she made her way to the Jeep. Timber stayed silent by her side, ears perked up, and the tuft of fur along his spine raised. She rested her hand on his head when they made it to the jeep.

  “Good perrito,” she whispered.

  The sky was dark and starless. Light shined from windows of a few houses and dim streetlights cut crisply through the night. The owners of those homes had probably left in a hurry and didn’t worry about a sky-high electric bill. The apocalypse changed your priorities. She kept her eyes on her surroundings but kept her feet moving forward. She tried the doors on the Jeep only to find every one of them locked.

  “Shit.”

  She walked around the house the Jeep sat in front of. The house was dark and motionless. She stood at the front door and pressed her ear to it. Silence. She gently turned the handle, and the door opened. Relief flooded her body. Veronica felt her way along the wall, trying not to bump into anything in the dark. Turning on the lights would just draw unwanted attention. She cursed herself for not being adult enough to own a flashlight. She felt along the top of what must be an entryway table but didn’t find any keys.

  When the duo made it to the living room, streetlights filtered in through the sheer curtains, illuminating the silhouette of furniture that made up the space. Veronica moved along all the tabletops in the living room, feeling for keys before moving to the kitchen counters. A fucking flashlight would be really handy right now. Timber still pressed against her side trembled before emitting a low growl from clenched teeth. A humanistic growl from the hall answered him back.

  “Fuck!” Veronica put her back against the cabinets and raised the axe above her head as she scoured the room for movement. But it remained still. Another growl drifted from the hall. Veronica held her breath and stood frozen in place, eyes glued on the dark hallway to her left.

  Timber took a few steps forward, and Veronica moved with him. She kept her axe raised above her head. The growls grew more intense as they approached the hall, but nothing came out of the darkness. Saliva dripped from Timber’s jaws as he growled and snapped at whatever was in the hall.

  Veronica stood at the entrance to the hall and felt along the wall until she found a light switch that she was pretty sure was for the hall.

  “Ready, Timber?”

  She flipped the switch, and the hall illuminated. Timber leaped forward, closing his jaws around the forearm of their attacker. It swatted at Timber, but when Timber released his death lock and backed away, it didn’t move forward. Veronica gasped.

  The monster was a man in pajama pants and no shirt. He had heavy chains wrapped around his torso and legs secured with heavy padlocks. The chains attached to anchors in the wall and ceiling. It tried to run forward, but the chains kept him locked in place. Black veins covered his face and white foam flowed from his lips. A handwritten note hung on the wall at the entrance to the hall.

  To whoever finds this,

  This virus took my wife. Took my kids. Took my life. I won’t let it take my soul. I won’t let it make me a killer. If you find this note and I’m one of them… leave me in chains so I can die with my family. My family are all tucked safely in their beds where they spent their final moments. Let me be with them, let nature take its course.

  May God spare you from this fate.

  Thank you,

  Joe Berna

  Next to the note was a decorative cut out in the wall with a large gold cross displayed. Keys with the Jeep emblem, a wallet, a box of bullets, and a handgun set next to it. Veronica watched as the man, Joe, fought against the chains trying to reach her. The metal dug into his skin, leaving oozing ulcers in spots. The wounds looked infected. Sepsis would take him before starvation. A horrible way to die. She read his note again and sighed. She patted Timber’s head.

  “He can’t hurt us. It’s alright.”

  She grabbed the keys, the box of bullets, and shoved the gun into her waistband. She backed away from the hall and Timber followed. Joe continued to growl and writhe in the chains.

  “Thanks for the Jeep, Joe.”

  Veronica and Timber slipped quietly from the house. Veronica hit the unlock button on the key fob and the lights on the Jeep flashed. Jackpot. She and Timber stayed hidden in the shadows, watching the street, but it remained still. They rushed over to the Jeep and Veronica flung open the door. She pointed inside and Timber bounded into the seat and she followed him. The engine revved to life, and she flipped the headlights off. Once the Jeep was parked in her driveway, she hurried and packed her supplies into the backseat. She locked the Jeep, double checking it by pulling on the handle, then she and Timber curled up on her bed for her last night ever at home.

  Timber stretched out across the tile floor, chewing on the last bits of his breakfast. Veronica sat next to him as she redressed her wound. The bite seemed to be improving and remained infection free. Most importantly, she didn’t find any black veins. She had scrutinized her body while showering, expecting to find some trace of infection. Tears filled her eyes when she found none. A combination of relief and grief swept over her, sending her to the shower floor in a crying heap until the water ran ice cold.

  Her mind raced when she thought about what that could mean. She wanted some time to sit and think about this unexpected development, but she had a pickup site to get to. If the symptoms started, Veronica would end her life, of that she was sure. She refused to be one of the monsters. The sun was just rising when she turned on the TV, only to find static. The random live feeds and videos must have stopped streaming during the night. She tapped the internet icon on her phone and an error message popped up. She scrolled through her recent calls and hit her brother’s name. No service.

  “Fuck!” She threw the phone across the room and it landed near the door. Timber tilted his head to the side and stared at her. “What are you looking at?”

  Veronica stretched out her maps across the table and reviewed her route. She took a roll of packing tape from the junk drawer and piecemealed the pages together to make one cohesive map. She covered every inch of paper with the clear tape with the hopes it would make the map slightly waterproof and more durable. The world was in its death throes, and the only thing certain was that this
would be the road trip from hell.

  Veronica took her antibiotic and swirled the last two pills around in the bottle before shoving it into her pocket. The room was starting to smell like rotten meat. She breathed through her mouth and suppressed her tears. Tightness crushed her chest as her grief raged, begging to be set free. Three years ago, when Veronica was finishing up college, she worked at a little funeral home. After they had been closed for three days to celebrate the Fourth of July, she was the first to arrive at the embalming room and was greeted with that smell. All the mortuary fridges had gone out and the Georgia heat had worked its disgusting magic. She would never forget that smell. Now that smell was her Mi Vida. She stared at the white sheet now covered with dark wet areas from the beginnings of decomp. Tears rolled down her cheeks, and she wiped them away with the back of her hand.

  Timber whined and nudged her hand. She looked down and his big, sweet eyes stared up at her. She rubbed him behind the ear and he licked her arm in return. A small, gold picture frame on the TV console caught her eye. Alejandro was smiling as he held the camera above his head. Veronica was right next to him, looking off to the side, wearing her resting bitch face. Alejandro loved that photo and told everyone it was the perfect reflection of their opposite personalities. He took that picture right before he proposed. He had always loved her, flaws and all. Her hands ran down the beveled sides of the metal frame before she picked it up and clutched it to her chest. She held the memory to her heart as she cried.

  The sun was fully up now, and Veronica knew she was wasting time she didn’t have. She popped open the back of the frame, pulled the picture out, and slid it into her back pocket. She patted her leg and Timber was at her side in an instant. On her way out the door, she picked up her cell and stuck it in her pocket next to the picture. She pulled closed the door, painted wishful blue after months of agonizing over the color, and didn’t look back.