The Vermilion Strain : Post-Apocalyptic Extinction

by S A Ison

  “Wow, I just figured he was he was a mutt of some kind.” Emma said, stunned. She’d heard about those dogs and knew them to be very intelligent and expensive. They were used for bomb sniffing and drug detection.

  “Sounds like he found a good mom. What made you decide on Pennsylvania?”

  “I’m from Lancaster and my family and I used to go to R.B. Winter State Park a few times a year. I’m hoping with all the forested land and other parks; I’d have a good chance of surviving. I got some books on survival in the back, and Winter has great fishing. Also hunting, though I’ll be honest, I’ve no clue how to garden nor hunt. I can fish, however.”

  “So don’t I! My husband taught me. Poor bastard died in the first week of that damned virus.” Paadi said sadly, her large brown eyes filling suddenly with tears. Emma reached over and squeezed Paadi’s hand.

  “I’m sorry.”

  Waving her hand, Paadi wiped at her eyes and shook her head.

  “We’ve all lost a lot of loved ones, and for me, I’ve lost friends and family and co-workers. None of my police family survived. I’d have hooked up with them and headed out. Same with family. Do you know if any of your family have survived in Lancaster?”

  “I don’t think so, my mom called to say my father had fallen ill. Then, a couple days later, I couldn’t contact either. I didn’t try calling my ex-husband, but I think he is gone as well. Honestly, you’re the first person I’ve seen in weeks. I’ve seen cars and such, but no people. I also heard an increase in gunshots, so I figured it was best to get out. I figure someone was taking over territory in Boston.”

  “Yah huh, you said it sister. The bad’uns will start popping up, like zits on a teenager. That’s why I figured I’d get out. Just didn’t know where I’d go. Figured anywhere was better than the middle of the city. Besides, I figured that the virus wasn’t the only thing I should worry about.”

  “Sure, I thought the same. Typhoid and cholera are a real threat now. With all those rotting bodies. I did see smoke, maybe someone was burning them?” Emma said, her eyes scanning the road ahead. She spotted deer about fifty feet from the road. She didn’t want to hit them, so she slowed down a bit.

  “I’ll be honest, I’m glad you stopped and picked me up. Couple hours ago, some chowderhead stopped, smelled beer oh him and didn’t like the looks of’em. Had to pull my weapon to encourage him to be on his way.” Her mouth turned down and her Boston accent became heavier.

  “I had the same notion. Got my Sig Sauer handy and Buddy of course. I guess together, we should be able to watch each other’s backs.” Emma grinned.

  “I’d say you’re right about that.” Paadi laughed.

  Over the next hour, both women were quiet, each in their own thoughts. Emma kept a constant speed, wanting to get to Lancaster by early afternoon. She wasn’t looking forward to going into her parent’s home. She knew then, it would all be real. She heard Paadi’s soft snores and smiled, looking over at her. She was so happy she’d come across her. She liked the woman. She seemed down to earth and capable. It was good to have someone with her who knew how to shoot a gun. She also had an upbeat personality. That was essential in a post-apocalyptic world. Having a cool head was also important.

  Coming over a hill she slowed down. Ahead, roughly a half mile away, Emma saw a vehicle spanning both lanes. That was not good.

  “Paadi, I think you need to see this.”

  Ӝ

  Brian pulled up to the hardware store. It was only fifteen miles from the state park, and he figured it was just as good a place to source as Lowes and closer at hand. Looking over, Coop was sound asleep. He didn’t have the heart to wake the boy. He pulled the truck and trailer close to the structure, the sun casted a long shadow over the front of the building. The truck would be in the shade. It wasn’t a large hardware store, so he could see the truck from the inside. Keeping the windows halfway down, Brian got out. He locked the doors.

  Walking around the truck, he opened the doors to the hardware store. It had not been locked up. When he opened the doors, a small bell sounded and he looked around inside.

  “Hello?” He called, but heard nothing. He walked farther in, but looked over his shoulder at the truck. He could just see the top of Cooper’s bright blond head. Thinking, he shoved the door to the hardware store open, blocking it with a sack of grass seed. He’d be able to hear if Cooper woke and called him.

  He walked along the aisles, looking at the shelves and began to pick out items. He picked up several metal buckets, figuring he could heat water for a bath. He also picked up quite a few five-gallon buckets with lids as well as metal trashcans. Those would make great storage for food; mice couldn’t chew through that. He found fifty-pound bags of chicken feed along with scratch grain. He’d driven by several farms and figured that perhaps there might be chickens walking around. He was sure the bigger farm animals would be dead, but chickens could scratch around for their food. He’d build a coop and they’d have chickens and eggs to eat.

  He went back out to the truck, peeking in on Coop, who was still sound asleep, a string of drool hung from his lower lip to his striped blue shirt. Brian opened up the trailer and began loading it with what he’d found. He went back into the store and got bales of chicken wire and stakes and lumber to build the coop. He found a few small wooden crates and he thought they could be turned into nesting boxes. He saw some nesting material as well and picked up a few bundles of those as well.

  He didn’t know much about chickens, but the videos he’d watched had been pretty straight forward. He also found several large dog kennels and picked them up as well. The chickens would be easier to transport to the park. He walked by another aisle that had camping gear. Not much, but he did find several hurricane lanterns and lamp oil. He also got an ash bucket and fireplace implements along with several pairs of leather work gloves.

  He took these out to the truck as well. He went back in and got a couple hoes, shovels, axes and found a rasp to sharpen the axes. The lists in his head were endless and he knew he might not get everything. That frightened him. If he got this wrong, he wouldn’t be the only one to suffer for it, Cooper would as well. His heart twisted at the thought of the small child suffering. No, he couldn’t afford to screw this up. He checked Cooper once more and went back in. At the front was a small refrigerator. It was packed with bottles of water, juices and soft drinks. He began to empty it. He enjoyed the occasional soft drink and he knew once they were gone, they were gone. Coop would like the juices.

  Their world would have little extravagances, and that reminded him to hit the grocery stores for coffee, which in turn had him looking for a camp coffee pot or two. Getting more than one item was essential. One was good, two was better, three, what the hell, why not? Once more, these items would have to last them a lifetime or more.

  He’d also pick up books, games and other educational items. He’d swing by the local Walmart on the way back to the park and pick up paper, pens, pencils and whatever else. Also, he’d take all the toilet paper and paper towels he could stuff into the trailer. His heart began to race and his mouth dried. It was almost too much. So much to get and do before he could no longer leave the park. His legs felt weak, and he knew it was a panic attack. He’d pushed all the fear and sorrow down, having to deal with the everyday living. Now, it was catching up to him. He sat down hard on the inside of the trailer.

  Holding his hands in front of his face, he saw they were trembling wildly. He took a deep breath and held it. Then, slowly, he blew it out. Tears stung his eyes and he wiped at them.

  “Don’t lose your shit buddy, not now.” He whispered to himself.

  “Daddy?” Cooper called; his voice sleepy. Brian got up and went around the truck.

  “I’m here tiger. You ready to get out?”

  “I gotta go potty.”

  “Okay, let me get you out of there. I’ll see if this place has a bathroom.” He lifted Cooper out of the truck and walked back into the store. He pulled out
a small LED flashlight from his back pocket. He found the bathroom in the back and lifted the lid to the tank. There was water in it, so a flush was possible.

  “Do you need my help Cooper?”

  “I just gotta pee pee.”

  “Okay, I’ll be out in the store, come find me when you’re finished. I’ll leave the door open, so it isn’t dark. I’ll put the flashlight on the floor for you. Bring it with you okay?”

  “Okay daddy.” He chirped sleepily.

  Brian wedged the door open. The store’s large windows ensure that there was plenty of light in the store, but the late day shadows made the store dim. A few minutes later Cooper came out and found Brian. Looking over at the counter, he saw a box of small hand sanitizers. He picked up a bottle and washed Cooper’s hands, then tucked the bottle in the boy’s front pocket. He stuck a few bottles in his own pockets.

  “We’re going to get some chickens; how does that sound?”

  “Really?” Cooper squeaked happily.

  “Sure are. In fact, we can head out in a few minutes. I’ll build something to hold them, and we’ll come back tomorrow and make them a proper coop.” He smiled down at the child.

  He picked up a few more things and then finished loading the trailer. He was closing it up when he felt a presence behind him. He turned, his hand going to the small of his back, where his Glock rested. An older woman stood ten feet away, watching him, her head cocked to the side.

  “Coop, come here.” He called, and Cooper walked out of the store, a small bottle of juice in his hand. The boy saw the woman and walked quickly to Brian, standing behind him, his small hand seeking the larger man’s hand.

  “Hi, can I help you?” He asked politely.

  “You robbing this place?” She asked.

  “No mam, I’m getting things that I need. Are you the owner?”

  “No, I ain’t. Bobby died. Everyone died. What you doin with that boy?”

  “Daddy?” Cooper said nervously.

  “It’s okay Coop.” Brian said and picked the child up, holding him close. Cooper’s arms linked tightly around Brian’s neck. He could feel the small body shaking slightly.

  “You need to leave that boy here, with his own kind.” The old woman croaked. Something about her made the hair on Brian’s arms raise. She was crazy, insane, perhaps by all the deaths around her. She was also thin, wiry. Her clothing was dirty, dirtier that what Brian thought was normal. His eyes went to her hands, which were knotted with arthritis. They were roped with heavy blue veins and her nails were chipped and dirty.

  “What do you mean, his own kind?” Brian asked, though he knew what she meant.

  “That boy ain’t yours, he’s white and you ain’t. You need to leave him with me. He don’t need to learn your dirty ways.” She said in a nasty voice.

  Yeah, batshit crazy, he thought. Brian didn’t say a word, but turned and put Cooper back in his car seat. He kept the old woman in his peripheral and his hands shook but he managed to get Cooper buckled in. He hurried around the truck as the woman began to walk closer. Hoping up into the truck, he locked the doors and then started the truck.

  “You need to leave that boy here, he don’t belong to you. He ain’t your kind.” She yelled at him.

  Brian hit the windows until they shut and then turned on the MP3 that was plugged in. The music filled the cab and drowned out the old woman’s rants. He pulled away quickly and heard a loud thump. She’d thrown something at the truck and it had bounced off. He pulled out onto the road and made his way down the road as fast as it was safe to do. His eyes checked the side mirrors and she was running after him, her hands waving wildly in the air. It shook him more than he liked to admit.

  He’d never met crazy before, but he sure as hell met one now. He figured she’d been crazy before the virus; her appearance indicated a long-term lack of sanity. Perhaps she was let go from those who’d cared for her, perhaps they’d died. He’d never know. He’d not go back there. He’d not want to run into her again. He looked at the clock, it was just after three. He’d hit the farm that was only a few miles away and see if he could catch some chickens. He’d head back to the park and fix up a temporary coop for them. Tomorrow, he’d swing by Lowes and pick up a gas-powered tiller, and he’d begin getting his new home ready for living.

  He pulled off the road onto a long winding drive. It led up to a faded two story farm house. He beeped his horn, announcing his arrival. He’d not want to be shot as a trespasser.

  “Coop, stay in the truck.” Brian said, thinking about the crazy old woman. He got out and locked the truck. The windows were slightly opened to let a breeze in. He went up the steps to the house and knocked heavily on the door. He could detect the faint scent of decay.

  “Hello? Anyone here? I’m going to go get some of your chickens. If you’re there, please let me know and I’ll leave you. I don’t want to take anything, if you’re still here and alive. I won’t hurt you; I’m just hoping to find some chickens.” He yelled. He felt foolish, but he knew if someone were alive, he’d not want to take their food from them. He waited, keeping his ears attuned to any noise. He could hear nothing with in.

  He heard chickens clucking toward the back of the house. He went to the trailer and opened it. Taking out his knife, he cut open the bag of scratch grain, he took several handfuls and put inside one of the metal buckets. Then he took one of the large kennels out of the trailer and walked toward the back of the house. Sure enough, inside a large enclosure were chickens, scratching around. He could also smell the reek of decay and looked around. There were several dead chickens. Maggots moved on the dead and the live chickens pecked at them. Gruesome. There was a low trough that had less than an inch of water in it. He thought perhaps the rain had kept the other chickens alive.

  He opened the door to the enclosure and set up the kennel. He started calling the chickens and throwing the scratch grain inside the kennel. At the sound of the grain hitting the back of the kennel, the chickens came running like crazed fiends. Squawking and running, the surrounded Brian. It damn near sent him running. He threw more grain into the large kennel and seven hens and a rooster rushed in. There were six outside the kennel, but Brian figured seven hens and a rooster was a good start. He could always come back and get the rest. He closed the kennel and trapped the chickens inside. He scattered more around for the other hens.

  He took the kennel out of the encloser and walked back to the truck. He placed the kennel in the back of his truck. Going back to the trailer, he got several bottles of water and went back to the encloser. He dumped the water into the trough. Then he walked to the chicken house and looked inside. He saw two small hens sitting on nests. He walked over and lifted each hen and got severely pecked for his efforts. Both hens sat on half a dozen eggs each. Good, he’d figured they’d hatch these babies out.

  Going back to the trailer, he got the other kennel along with a wooden crate. Going to the truck, he looked in and saw a hand towel. He grabbed that and took the items back to the enclosure. He went back into the coop. Carefully; he laid the towel over the unhappy brooding hen. He carefully lifted the hen, along with the nesting material, keeping the eggs cupped in his hands and set it all in the wooden crate. He then set the crate, hen and eggs into the larger kennel. He left the towel on her. He was afraid she’d freak out inside the kennel and bust the eggs.

  He’d build her a separate brooder coop, away from the main flock. He’d come back and get the other chickens and the other brooding hen. Once he had a big enough set up for them, he’d return for more, he wanted to make sure he did it right. For now, he needed to get back to the park and get the chickens settled into a temporary home and then head back to his own home.

  Leaving the encloser, Brian felt elated. He’d accomplished quite a bit today. It would be evening by the time he got home, but it had been a good day after all. Getting back in the truck, he looked over at Coop, who looked back expectantly.

  “We got us some chickens!” He grinned and
the rooster crowed at that moment. A wide smile split the boy’s face.

  “Woohoo!” Cooper crowed.

  Ӝ

  Casper looked around him, he sat at the fountain at the Board Game Art park. The city was deadly quiet but for the wind that wound around the buildings, and the birds. It was now all his domain. He and a few others had survived the Vermilion Strain. He’d been hit within the first week of the deadly EV-01-H virus. His girlfriend had shown the first symptoms and within hours, he’d begun to feel the insidious infection creep along his body. It had been a hellish time, and yet, he’d survived. He’d been unable to leave the bed and had lived in his own filth and Racheal’s decay.

  Day after day, he’d watched as the maggots moved across her once beautiful face. The putrid gore and stench were unbearable, until he became nose deaf. But for the numerous bottles of water by the bed, he too would have succumbed to death. For a long time, while he lay beside Rachael, he’d wished for death. When he began to understand that he would not die, his sight began to dim and fade. Though he could still see, the world around him was cocooned in a semitransparent shroud.

  His once brown hair had turned whitish gray, from the extensive trauma his body had survived. He’d stumbled out of his apartment and had wondered the streets. Surviving people fearing him, running from him. No one would help him. He’d not understood why until he’d seen himself in a department store mirror. His skin was a deep vermilion hue, his hair gray, almost white and matted down with blood. His eyes, were milky white. Though he didn’t smell himself, he was sure he stunk badly.

  After wandering the streets, he went back to his apartment and took a shower. He collapsed on the bathroom floor, exhausted. He guesstimated that a full day had passed when he woke next. He was still weak, but his body was now hungry and thirsty. He supposed that was how he knew that he’d live. Over the next couple of weeks, he saw the population of Philadelphia dwindle. He’d gone by Pennsylvania Hospital, Thomas Jefferson University Hospital and Hospital of the University of Pennsylvania, all three were forsaken to the departed and bodies littered the emergency bays, waiting rooms and along the sidewalks and parking lots there were heaps of bones.