Genesis Virus

by Pinto, Daniel

  The napping man says. “Take it, hurry up, they’re coming, we’ll be fine we’re not dead yet.” Phillip takes the rifle and swiftly turns around disregarding the man’s comments. Matthew uses his shoulder to pop open the door, then jumps up to stand on top of the doorway opening to help his friend up and out. He has a new and deeper gash on his hairline; he holds it and looks up. “What happened?”

  Phillip sees zombies running in opposite directions down the cliff away from his group, he lets out a gasp in relief. Matthew jogs up to Phillip, says to his back. “My name’s Matthew if you didn’t catch it. That other Jeep will notice we’re not behind them and will lead those things away from us. I hope so.”

  Phillip focuses on the cliff as he sprints to the Jeep’s standing roof. “Help me push this shit right side up.”

  Matthew says. “Why?”

  Phillip says. “So we can drive away or use this as the Alamo by standing on top of it, to take out as many of those things as we can.” Honcho sensibilities getting the better of him.

  Matthew says. “We have enough ammo if you’re a good shot.” The sleeping man is walking up to help flip the Jeep with the Boss walking with a hitch in his step behind him. The four men push and push, and take advantage of the forward momentum and get the Jeep to land right side up. A creaky of metal expanding and a jiggling of loose nuts is the extent of the damage, they guess.

  Matthew says. “Here they come right on schedule.” The other man is trying to start the Jeep, it’s stalling.

  Phillip says. “Keep at it.”

  The Boss scowls as he sees the other Jeep leading a herd of over thirty running zombies in a victory lap through the jerky terrain on his far left, down the lesser steeped ground. “Phillip’s plan, hurry.”

  All of the men climb on top of the Jeep equipped with assault rifles; they check their guns and place more clips of ammo in their pockets over their bodies. The Boss stares over at a crouching Phillip, who’s in the bloody conclave of the roof, he points his gun an inch from the back of Phillip’s head. “Are you with us?”

  The Boss’s men both look at each other then at Phillip. He watches the zombies and says. “I’m not with them.”

  The Boss says. “Don’t let these wrinkles fool you boys, none of us will fall today.”

  All the men lift their rifles and take aim as the honking Jeep slides into a better view, it’s slowing down on purpose. The Boss bolts up and waves his hands to signal to keep moving. He mouths. “Don’t stop.”

  The driver, Thaddeus apparently gets the message and speeds up again, but it’s too late, it gave some zombies a chance to get on top of the passing Jeep. Everyone’s heads inside slides forward as if the roller coaster ride is about to begin.

  The Boss’s group opens fire into the bulk of the herd as it passes in front of them unnoticing the Alamo Jeep; a sea of zombies are blasted in the head by a volley of shots, and come crashing down at the Jeep’s portside. Bullet shells and blood sink into the historical site. Each man covers one side of their vehicle. The higher ground makes headshots easier on moving targets.

  Zombies crawl and jump off the backs of their meat shield friends. Road rash zombies with boils for faces, come aft of the Jeep that’s dead in the water, so to speak. Phillip fires with calm precision into their heads, unclogging cherry red plasma from their eyes. Someone’s hot gun barrel brands Phillip’s shoulder and rapid fires by his ear. The world goes silent for him, all the better. He reloads his assault rifle, looking straight ahead without blinking. Layers of bodies fertilize the grass. The remaining zombies continue to run over the bodies, popping the bloated limbs, creating a vat of goo.

  “Reloading.” Matthew throws a empty clip into a jagoff’s mouth then shoves the rifle barrel into its eye.

  Phillip turns and fires at zombies, his gun crosses and lingers over the Boss’s gun like swords, that’s shooting in the opposite direction. They look at each other for a second. Human vermin is stacking up to the their boots

  6

  Happening at the same time.

  Several monomaniacs snub the Boss’s group for juicier prey and continue to hound the bolting Jeep led by Thaddeus.

  He’s yells at his men. “Fire. Fire.” Just then, a cold zombie arm comes from the direction of the rooftop and through the broken window scratching Thaddeus’s face and removing part of his nostril with a rapid assault of clawing.

  The Boss told Thaddeus to take another Jeep, but he insisted on taking this one, the Jeep with the window Phillip shattered.

  Thaddeus steps on the gas and tugs the wheel firm to the right in a struggle to rid himself of the coonhound zombies. It doesn’t work; the other two men out of three in the Jeep are firing through the rooftop with their backs buried deep into the seats. Dozens of pillars of light stab downward. The Jeep sideslips and the car hydroplanes, the wheel and brakes are useless. Backseat men find the courage to straighten up and poke their gun barrels through the holes. The roof vibrates like a garage door getting kicked in. Bullets are flying through the two zombies, bodysurfing on the rooftop with no result.

  Thaddeus sways his head again, dodging the agile zombie arm, trying to drive at the same time. A zombie rolls down the hood, gets stuck in the Jeep’s grill, and is keelhauled through the waves of grass.

  The front passenger says. “Just keep going forward, put some distance between us and them.” In the rearview mirror, five more zombies are hunting them.

  The zombie arm is back, this time Thaddeus lets go of the wheel, seizing the arm and yanks the rival zombie off the roof. The body flies through the air, bouncing on the ground and bursting apart like a tightly wound up garbage bag, smell and all. The front passenger has his callous hands on the wheel trying his best not to scream.

  The last zombie on the roof bashes her head through the passenger window: the passenger in the back stabs his handgun in her ear and lets off two shots. Dark plasma squirts on the windshield and on the front passenger’s face, his hearing vanishes as he observes the fragments.

  Thaddeus slams his foot on the breaks; jumps out and shoots the rotten scoundrels running towards the finish line, in the legs. The petrified passenger who never fired a single shoot, gets out after the shooting ceases and treads over to Thaddeus. “Damn, that thing took a part of your ear and nose. It fucked up your face man real good.”

  Thaddeus has a widow’s peak of blood on his forehead; he’s quiet and examining the carnage as the clouds part, he then faces the meek man speaking to him. Thaddeus smiles in his face before he shoots him in the gut; the man falls to his knees holding his bloody hands out like a beggar.

  Thaddeus hollers in his face. “Your only job was to lookout for these things.” He drags the man by the chin and delivers him to a zombie crawling on the ground with bullet holes in its legs. Its pupils enlarge like a shark at the sight of blood; the zombie eats through muscle and connective tissue. Thaddeus spits with whistle lips at the man.

  “Don’t shoot that man.” Thaddeus strolls away from the dying screams, back to his Jeep. The last of the men are driving away when the back passenger says. “He told me, his wife proposed to him, that was a dead giveaway, that he couldn’t handle this life.”

  The new front passenger says. “The guys out here we’re looking for are not worth this much trouble. The Boss doesn’t know what the fuck he’s doing. What do we say happened to him?”

  Thaddeus says. “The truth, the dead killed him.” He wraps his face with gauze in a mummy fashion. He was suppose to ride with the Boss today, there’s a tinge of resentment when he tightens the bandage.

  7

  Back at the Boss’s Jeep, the four men are massacring the remaining zombies that try to scrape up at them.

  An ebullient zombie runs on the mountain of bodies like stones in the water leading to the Jeep. It’s shot and falls into the pile of human garbage rivaling that of the island of trash in the ocean. But then quickly rises from the dead, clutching one of Matthew’s ankles, bringing him down hard
on his ass. He kicks it in its leprous face as he pulls upward from the Boss’s boot. The Boss shoots the zombie in the forehead; its neck becomes rigid as it dives backwards with its arms opened wide. That’s the last gunshot and kill of the day. Phillip stands up, hands his rifle back to the Boss, and jumps down for the passenger seat. Rejoining the sleeping passenger, who is wide awake now. Matthew and the Boss inspect the bodies like amateur scientists.

  Sleeping passenger says to Phillip. “I’m glad to be part of your Alpha Squad today. Omega Squad don’t have their shit together.”

  Phillip says. “It’s not my squad.”

  “The Boss is in charge of the vision, but out here, you have to trust the man on your team. Fuck the bullshit or you’ll become another nameless body in that pile out there.”

  8

  In the morning, David rides ahead to scout for the safest route; the rest of the group is taking a break beneath an umbrella of trees by a ford, reloading on water.

  Atop of a grassy knoll, David stands alone looking in every direction in silence until he hears a whisper of a gunshot. He gets down quickly on his belly and crawls around trying to get a better look with his binoculars. Most people are killed from a great distance, if not, why were guns created? David lies on his back and slides himself down the hill. His Apollo cycle is silent even as it gains speed through the columns of trees. The dead are always listening. His mind is made up.

  David returns to the resting group, grabs Ava’s rifle and takes back off before she can ask what’s going on.

  David drives for minutes, retracing his steps, stops in the shade, gets off the dirt bike and runs for a block to sneak up on two men in black with a young woman. He has to get closer than he wants, Ava’s quieter gun has a short barrel; they’re by their vehicle harassing the woman, each tugging on a arm as she tries to kick them. All have their backs to David. Each of the men has a rough face that looks like it has taken over a thousand punches; protruding brows, collapsed noses, and cauliflower swollen shut ears They also look well feed and out of place. Too clean.

  David rests the MP5 on a beanbag shaped rock, holds a breath and shoots one of the men in the back of their head, he collapses in his partner’s arms. Girl falls to the ground and hugs a tire. The other man turns around in David’s direction, struggling to get his weapon up. He takes a bullet in the chest then face. And slides to the ground off his taillights with his friend still in his arms. David loops the rifle over one shoulder and runs over to the woman on the ground. She gets up in a flash, grabs one of the man’s golf clubs from the car, and beats both of their heads in, belting out screams. Their blood is over her neck and arms.

  David gets nearer, she tosses the club at him for the gun by her feet.

  She screams. “Stay back before I kill you.”

  David puts his hands up. “Don’t shoot, I mean you no harm.” He looks at the bodies as his evidence. “My name’s David and you don’t have to thank me.”

  She doesn’t find that funny at all. “I didn’t ask for your help.”

  What do you say to a girl beating in faces with a nine iron? She finds David’s cavalier attitude about the situation disconcerting.

  She is around David age, slender built with green eyes, high cheekbones, resplendent curly hair cascading around her oval shaped face. David can guess why the men wanted her.

  She kicks a body. “I’m going to shoot you or myself. I have to end this constant suffering once and for all.” The gun is rattling in her hand. Her curly hair is over one eye.

  David jerks to the side. “Don’t do either.” His eyes start at the gun and make their way down her milky white skin to her freckle shoulders that are vibrating, she has on a stretched out tank-top, courtesy of the dead men. He wonders how long it’s going to take for her to come to grips, he doesn’t have all day.

  He says. “Don’t kill yourself.”

  Her chest is lifting high as if she can’t catch her breath. “What do you know about suicide?” The way she says it makes him feel worthless and he takes a step back.

  He squats down, hides his despondent eyes, and picks at the dirt. “A little because I’m still here. A few days ago I felt like you and I tried to end my short life.”

  She says with the gun still pointing at David, his hands are down. “What happened?”

  He focuses on her cat shaped eyes. “The gun was empty.”

  She has a lesser animus tone. “Yeah, that’ll do it.”

  He stands. “That’s not the reason I’m here though. Hope spared me. But some times I feel like I’m not alive or returning to a reality that’s not mine. Like reawaking from a waking dream, constantly.” She looks confused on how to react like when a person cries real tears, but it’s clear they’re lying. David will take confused any day over scared and trigger happy.

  He walks closer and stops sideways, making a smaller target. “The best part of life is that you can start over until it’s over. Death has no options in it.” He looks up, closes his eyes, basking in the sunlight, and takes in a deep breath with a smile. “I assure you, I think I know what I’m talking about.”

  She smirks and says, “you’re weird,” circles around him, “what do I have to hope for?”

  He says. “That’s up to you…you could help me save some lives.” She gives him a go to hell look in her eyes, he expected worst.

  She says. “Maybe you just found other way to kill yourself, a righteous way.”

  He says. “Stay here forever if you like…all I need is whatever you can tell me about this area because I’m looking for my friends and a man named the Boss.”

  She squints her eyes, showing she won’t take no for an answer. “If I help you, I’m coming with you until I find something better.”

  He says, “ok,” and then goes in to shake her hand.

  She smiles and shakes. “People still do this? My name’s Delilah.”

  “David.” He can definitely see why the men wanted her. Then feels a little guilty because he wanted her to walk away, but knows he would have heard a gunshot as soon as he turned his back.

  David walks over to the Jeep. “Let’s see what they got?” Delilah picks up the two M4 rifles by the dead men. She holds them high like squirrels by their tails. “Do you have anything smaller, for these, I’ll trade you.” David says. “Some handguns in my bag.”

  She wipes her teary eyes and looks over David’s shoulder, as he gets halfway in the car searching like a forensic expert. “I’ve seen a Dead Town a few miles that way. It looks like one of those small towns in those western movies with a saloon and a general goods store. I didn’t go down there though; I looked at it from above and started heading in this direction when I ran into these guys. I heard these guys say Boss, but I don’t think they’re from that town though, it’s rundown and these guys are well equipped as you can see.”

  David gets excited when he finds a bag filled with black ski masks in the backseat. He turns around with one in his hand. She says. “What’s your name again?”

  “David, Delilah.” She doesn’t listen what have I gotten myself into?

  She says. “Thanks for saving my life, David, now you’re responsible for it, and sorry for pointing a gun at you.”

  He says. “I’m used to it.”

  David can see his group arriving through the back window; Ava is first, moving fast. She gets off her bike by the beanbag rock and has her hands on her hips. She’s breathing hard, says. “Do you feel like a hero? Who’s this?”

  David says. “I don’t feel like a loser. I was just about to find out.”

  She says. “My name’s Delilah.” She extends her hand. Ava ignores it.

  Ava looks at her for a moment, taking in her outfit, not for vanity sake, but to guess how good her life is, then points in the distance. “I’m Ava, and those guys are the Chief, Cooper, Lou, and Youngblood in that order.”

  Delilah says in disbelief. “Are those their real names?”

  Ava shakes her head. “They’re David�
�s names for them.” Delilah looks over at David, he’s back in the Jeep.

  Ava runs over and looks at the dead men on the ground. “Jackpot, David, you can take this man’s vest.” Delilah says something to Ava, and she does a poor job of pretending to listen.

  David helps Ava take off the bulletproof vest and removes the intact metal plates in the other vest. “That’s why I aimed for his head. Go through it all and take what we need.”

  Ava leaves the handguns, but takes the 9mm ammo for her MP5 and handguns. Delilah gets the weapons she wants before they’re all gone, she is quiet and an observer like a snooping neighbor, soaking it all in.

  David meets up with the Chief, with a ski mask in his hand like a winning lotto ticket. “This is a good sign, before all this, a mask wouldn’t mean anything, but who would go out of their way to have one of these and use it in this weather.”

  Cooper struggles to keep pace with Lou. “What did she say?”

  David waits for Youngblood to get closer to hear too.

  Ava says to Delilah. “Stand where I can see you.”

  David says to the team of guys. “She said she heard these men talking about the Boss and she seen a Dead Town near here, but she’s not for sure if it’s where they came from.” The Indians shake their heads okay and walk over to Delilah to check the bodies out and to question her.

  Before Lou walks away from David, he says. “You could have questioned one of them if you weren’t so trigger-happy and saved us the hassle…” He pulls a leaving David to his face by one shoulder. “Get rid of the girl.”

  David says. “If we disregard her like a object, how are we any better than the Boss?”