by C M Hoffmann
Wade, “Typical zombies: bite first, feed later.”
Trey, “Seems like their main goal is to infect anything around them first.”
Pops, “I agree. It’s like as long as there is a healthy body around, they won’t eat ‘til whatever is around it is infected.”
Cane, “But, how did the others get infected? I don’t see any bites.”
Wade nudges Cane forward, “Go ahead. You know you wanna get closer. Actually, take Trey with you. You’re all junkies when it comes to danger.”
Trey, “Just because you don’t have the testicular fortitude to handle up doesn’t mean the rest of us have to be ninnies.”
Cane, Gavin, and Trey bust out laughing.
Pops, “Enough, I’ll get closer.”
Gavin, “We got you Pops.” The boys take aim as their father walks into the face of danger.
“Well you’re right. The only blood I see is from their family. It doesn’t seem...” Pops falls back as the patriarch reaches under the gate and grabs his ankles; his corpse had re-animated during the previous outbursts. A shot rings out behind the boys causing them to jump and a round splits the Patriarch’s head. Mom stands triumphantly behind them with her Smith and Wesson .380 Bodyguard.
Cane, “That’ll be twelve down.”
Pops, “Good shot, honey, but next time could you at least wait ‘til I’m clear? I think you caught the rubber on my boot.” Cane, Trey, Wade, and Gavin snicker. “Don’t laugh, you should be ashamed your mother beat you to the shot. I’ll remember that when one of the ankle biters comes for you.”
Mom, “Y’all were too busy laughing at your own jokes to see him.”
The boys simultaneously recite, “Sorry, Mom.”
Pops gets to his feet, “Now let’s clear up the rest of them and head out.” The six of them line up and begin to fire at the walking corpses. After more than enough shots, the world around them goes eerily quiet.
Cane, “That’s thirteen, fourteen... twenty and twenty one with Mom’s shot. Quite the count on the first day, if I do say so myself.”
Trey, “Probably going to be many more, little brother.”
“Figured that’s why I wanna keep a running tally.”
“How ‘bout a wager.”
“Nah, one: you’re a better shot, as you’ve so politely and frequently reminded me; and two: I’ve seen this movie, it doesn’t end well for us.”
Wade, “Well scrawny people like you don’t make it.”
Mom, “We’ll all make it... as a family.”
Pops, “Like we always have. Family first. Always. Now let’s get home.” He unlocks the gate and everyone returns to their vehicles and the convoy pulls out. They can both hear and feel the crunch and squish of the bodies under the tires. Cane and Trey being last in line come to a stop just passed the corpses. Trey jumps out and re-locks the gate.
As the convoy makes it down the road, Cane thinks out loud, “T, you think we should have checked their house for more?”
Trey, “For more zombies or for more weapons, ammo, gear, et cetera?”
“Honestly, all of it. I don’t want to be a looter and we don’t know the extent of it, but say it’s statewide or nationwide or hell even global. We’ll need everything we can get our hands on. Normally, well in movies and books anyway, it’s one group against the world in these types of situations with a few random pockets of resistance. What if we’re it? What if we are the only ones left? I mean obviously not everyone is affected right off the bat. Apparently some people still need to be bit to turn steve. But, how many people were initially infected? That new flu seems to be pretty rampant so far. What if that’s the cause for all this? Say there’s no cure, vaccine, or help anywhere. What about animals, are they subject to infection? To tell you the truth, brother, I’m terrified of the possibilities.”
“We’re better than looters. If we would have ransacked that house and the bodies we would have been justified. Regardless of the extent. You’re right; we’ll need everything we can get. But for now we’ll follow Pops’ orders and get home. If we need to start raiding parties then we will. Don’t worry, baby brother, we’ll make it through this.”
“Trey, if something happens to me...”
“And same for me. Scarlett will be fine so long as she can hold out ‘til we can get home. If they haven’t turned yet, they’ll probably have to be bitten and neither of those crazy ass women are going to let anyone get close enough.”
“Guess you got a point. Who knows if we get enough target practice in, maybe I’ll shoot like you one day.”
Trey smiles broadly, “Not in your wildest dreams.”
The rest of the ride to the city of Mandeville is quiet. Other than a seemingly endless graveyard of vehicles, there doesn’t seem to be any real distress. As the convoy nears the bridge more and more steves are roaming about with the occasional flash of a victim. The abandoned cars on the road prove to be a hazard, sporadically stalled, with open doors and personal items strewn about. Gavin loses a mirror to a car door blown open by the wind.
Pops tunes in to the radio and catches a disturbing broadcast. “Honey, call the boys, tell them to check this station.”
As the boys receive the messages, they all adjust their radios. The broadcast makes them worry more than usual:
Broadcaster, “A state of emergency is in effect. Please return to your homes in an orderly fashion. Be wary of strangers, especially anyone displaying signs of the MRF Virus. If you observe anyone showing signs of the virus, stay away, quarantine the individual if possible and contact your local authorities. A state of emergency is in effect. Please contact your local authorities to turn in running vehicles. Any vehicle currently running should be turned in to the authorities to aid in your safety. You may park the vehicles in the marked areas near your local police department or sheriff’s office. Anyone found operating a vehicle in these dangerous times is subject to arrest, no exceptions. Everyone needs to return to their homes in an effort to avoid exposure to the MRF Virus.”
Gavin, “What the hell is an MRF Virus.”
Wade, “Now, how would I know that? I literally heard that at the same time you did.”
“Shut up. See if you can get on the internet.”
Wade retrieves his phone and ‘Google’s’ the ‘MRF Virus.’ He quickly reads the article, “Just updated in the last week. It says ‘Mutated Rabies Flu Virus’. Seems a little more specific than the recent shit out there. H1N1 and all that crap.”
“Call Cane and make sure he heard it.”
Wade makes the call, “Hey, you heard that crap on the radio? I looked up the MRF Virus. It says something like it stands for Mutated Rabies Flu Virus. Don’t they usually name it something stupid like H1N1?”
Cane, “Yea, normally for when they barely know what’s going on with it. I wonder why this is so specific. Actually if it’s not in obscure letters and numbers it’s usually like someone’s name or something for whoever discovered it.”
Trey, “Or developed it.”
Cane gives Trey a questioning look when red and blue lights appear behind them.
Cane, “Wade, gotta go. Call Pops tell him we got red and blues behind us.” Cane hangs up, “Well I guess that explains why we’re about the only ones on the road. Should we stop?”
Trey, “I don’t see why not. At least three of us are law enforcement and the government wants us to go home and that’s what we’re trying to do.”
“Alright, call Mom make sure they know we’re stopping.” He begins to pullover as Trey calls their mother. The other vehicles in the convoy take notice and all stop a short distance up the road. Two Sheriff’s Deputies approach Cane’s truck on either side. More units can be seen at a distance closing in on the convoy. The brother’s size up the two deputies walking towards them. The younger one, obviously green as the shine from his shoes can been seen from quite the distance, exits the driver seat quickly but without being in a hurry; the other deputy, obviously older, resembles a cla
ssic veteran from the lackadaisical way he extricates himself from the passenger seat.
Young Deputy, “Excuse me, sir, where are you heading? Why are you out on the roads? You know it’s not safe, this is a quarantine zone.”
Cane, “Actually we didn’t know about the quarantine zone, we only just got out of the woods from our hunting trip. We’re trying to get back to Kenner.”
Old Deputy, “That’s a long walk from here.”
Trey, “What do you mean walk? We’ve got plenty of gas...”
Young Deputy, “State of emergency, we need to confiscate all running vehicles for law enforcement and safety purposes.”
Cane, “Dude, we are law enforcement. Back in Kenner. Where we’re going. In this truck and those ahead of us.”
Old Deputy, “Please, you two aren’t police. And you’re not in your jurisdiction so you have no authority and thereby need to relinquish this vehicle to us. Other deputies are on their way to collect the other two.” He leans in and whispers to Trey, “Or of course there’s always that other way.”
Trey looks aghast, “Excuse me, who the fuck do you think you are?!”
Young Deputy, “Look we’re just trying to do our jobs, you understand, right? If you are enforcement you know what it’s like.”
Cane, “If? IF?! How ‘bout I show you my badge and then shove it up Tweedledum’s ass over there? This is asinine we’re leaving and unless you’ve got other plans I suggest you back up.” Cane motions over Young Deputy’s shoulder, “Plus, you’ve got bigger issues.” A large group of steves can be seen approaching the other side of the large multilane highway.
The young deputy steps away from the truck, but the grizzled old deputy grabs the door handle and starts to open the passenger door. Trey ever the tactical one seizes the opportunity. He shouts, “Go!” as he throws his body weight into the door sending the old deputy sprawling.
The truck roars as the deputies attempt to create space from the now mobile vehicle. The other marked units are nowhere to be found. The young deputy helps the older to his feet and the old deputy takes off for their unit. He jumps in the driver seat as the younger attempts to adjust his momentum to enter the passenger seat. The old deputy locks the doors and speeds after Cane’s truck, leaving the young one at an all too close twenty yards from the approaching steves.
Cane, “Call Pops. That asshole is coming after us.”
Trey on the phone, “Pops, deputies tried to take the truck, one’s chasing us. I know, I know, we had to take off. Look we’re gonna need some support.”
Pops, “We’ll take care of it, just go and be careful.”
Pops and Gavin’s trucks take off behind Cane and in front of the pursuing unit.
After firing all the rounds in his magazine, the young deputy attempts to fight off the incoming steves as the old deputy watches in the rear-view mirror. He watches as his partner shrinks in the mirror and is overcome by a swarm of bodies. He talks out loud to himself, “Moron, didn’t even have the sense to run. Oh well, I’ll just say it was an accident, they got him before he could make it to the car. Where’d those other units make off to? Screw it, time to take me some trucks. Oh great, they lined up for me.” A pursuit ensues as the Causeway Bridge looms ever nearer.
Cane, “T, you got three bucks?”
Trey, “I think the toll is the least of our problems right now. By the way, nice driving so far.”
“Nice shoulder check. Didn’t know you’d think to do that.”
“What? You think you’re the only smart one? Open lane on the left.”
“I got it, I got it. What? You think you’re the only one who can drive fast?”
“Drive fast? No. Drive fast and good? Yes.”
“I hate you.” The brother’s chuckle as Cane weaves around the stalled and abandoned cars in the road. “Didn’t think there’d be this many cars on the road. Whatever this is must’ve started right as we hit the woods. What was that? Four, five days ago?”
“Something like that. Hey guy in the road.”
“That’s steve number twenty-two.”
“And if he’s not steve?”
“Good point. Last second decision, my favorite.” As the truck speeds closer to the figure looming in the road, it becomes more and more clear that it is in fact a dead man walking. Cane positions the truck slightly to the left of it as the steve bounces off the front passenger bumper.
“That was brutal, even for you.”
“Meh, one less for later. Wonder how our deputy is faring back there with Destruction Gavin at the wheel.”
The old deputy begins to bump the rear of Gavin’s truck to try and close the distance on the lead truck.
Gavin, “Wade, distract him please.”
Wade, “How?”
“Show him your ass, piss out the window on him, I don’t care just get him off my dick. I happen to like my truck.”
“Aha! I got it.” He finds his spit bottle from the previous four days, a nearly full twenty ounce Coca-Cola bottle. Wade opens the middle sliding glass of the truck’s rear window, twists the cap slightly and launches the coke bottle. The bottle explodes with a satisfying brown mist that covers the whole driver side portion of the deputy’s windshield.
“I’m gonna puke.”
“Hey it worked, right? He’s slowing down. There’s the bridge.”
Cane’s truck barrels through the toll booth lane splintering the wooden bar. Pops truck follows suit and shortly after Gavin’s.
The old deputy manages to make it through the toll booth lane without crashing despite his lack of a clear view of the roadway; however, he loses control of the unit maneuvering around a stalled car long enough to strike the curb and bounce to the other lane. The unit begins to fishtail and eventually spin. Finally, it strikes the concrete rail backwards launching chunks of cement into the water below. The unit follows the falling rocks landing trunk first in the water, it bobs for a moment, and then the roof of the unit comes down. The overturned unit sinks as the convoy disappears down the bridge. The deputy barely makes it out the shattered window before the vehicle completely submerges. He curses and swims to shore. As he makes it to the edge of the water, his heavy breathing won’t seem to slow down. After one final deep breath he looks up to four steves closing in on him.
Sure enough the Causeway Bridge is almost as clear as the convoy had heard. Everyone had since given up listening to the radio since the broadcasts were all the same: annoying and repetitive. The disturbing message from the Government was the same old ‘Stay put, hold your breath until we get there’ and unfortunately that’s what most people would probably do.
Cane had decided to put his old iTouch to work. The iTouch mixed with the twelve inch subwoofer on the rear seat with the brothers singing at the top of their lungs made for a pleasantly relaxing and yet adrenaline inducing ride. Pops had since taken the lead again.
As the convoy is crossing the almost twenty four mile long bridge over nothing but open water, Gavin starts to get an uneasy feeling. He calls Pops, “Hey, doesn’t it seem weird we haven’t seen anyone yet? The occasional stalled car but with a panic like this it seems like the road should be packed.”
Pops, “Maybe the Sheriff’s department has been trying to keep people off the bridge.”
“I don’t know, I just have a bad feeling.”
“I’m starting to get it too. Hold up, looks like there’s people on the crossover, a decent size crowd too.”
“Think they’ve gone primal?”
“Can’t tell from this far, no stopping unless I do.”
“Roger that.”
The convoy nears the crossover and the crowd ignites into a frenzy. The people there begin to jump up and down trying to signal the vehicles. Pops presses a little harder on the accelerator.
Mom, “Honey, what if they come out onto the road?”
Pops, “You and the boys are the only priority. We can’t save everyone. We’re eight miles into the bridge. That’s a long walk home
. If we stop and they surround us, I don’t think we’ll be able to keep them from taking the truck’s without taking lives. I think we’ve done enough of that for today..”
“We’ll get home.”
“Yes, we will.”
The convoy comes upon the crossover and a lone person enters the left lane. He tries to forcibly flag them down by swiping at the vehicles. The convoy passes without damage or blood. Pops still can’t shake a hair raising feeling that something more is happening with this group of people.
♦ ♦ ♦
Cane’s phone rings, “Hey, baby, you ok?”
Scarlett, “Are you on the bridge?”
“Yes, we all are, are you ok?”
“Yea I’m fine, you need to find a crossover now.”
“We just passed one with a bunch of people on the last one. What’s going on?”
“Some lunatic blew up the bridge this morning by mile marker thirteen point something. That’s why the bridge is so empty. We only just now got the news, they’re calling this whole thing a coordinated terrorist attack now. A whole portion of the southbound lanes is just gone.”
“Go figure, always a terrorist. How are... SHIT!” Cane locks up the brakes as the convoy comes to a dead stop in front of him. The phone flies to the floorboard as Scarlett screams for Cane. Trey, who was not paying attention except for daydreaming at the end of the karaoke session, slams into the dashboard.
Trey, “Da fuck, brother? Forget how to warn people?”
Cane recovers his phone, “Holy mother of... Well we found the destroyed bridge.”
Scarlett, “Oh my God, is everyone ok?”
“Well, all the trucks are still planted firmly on the road, let me go see if Mom and Pops are ok. I love you.”
“I love you too. Remember either you stay alive out there, or I’ll kill you myself.”
Cane laughs, “Yes, dear. Bye now.” Together the brothers hop out of the truck.
Trey, “What do you mean destroyed bridge?” They gather with the rest of the family by the edge of a missing chunk of the Causeway Bridge nearly forty feet long.
“Scarlett just called to tell me the bridge was out. Government says this and the steves are all part of some terrorist plot.” Trey scoffs at the thought that once again everything in the world that goes wrong is a terrorist. Cane agrees with a roll of his eyes, “Exactly, usually means it’s a domestic terrorist. Maybe not the steves, but definitely this bridge.”