Fatal Reaction, Survival

by M A Hollstein

  How do you prepare for something like this? He stared up at the spacecraft. For three weeks, it had been hovering. Why? What were their plans? Even though Bill would never admit it to his son or Amanda, he was scared out of his freaking mind. He hadn’t a clue what to do.

  Chapter 2

  Shit! he thought. That was a close one! Aaron tried a door to the side entrance of the building to his right. It was locked. He looked around. There was no place to hide. There was an old, metal trashcan, some cardboard boxes, and a stack of yellowing newspapers and magazines. He slunk down the alley and crouched down next to a trashcan. He stayed hidden in the shadows, hoping the Crusaders hadn’t seen him, even though he was positive they had.

  Aaron told himself that he’d rather die of the infection, or be killed by whatever the hell lived in that stupid ass spaceship than die by the hands of lowlife scum like the Crusaders.

  Ideally, I’d rather not die at all, he thought. However, the odds were stacking up against him. Things were not looking good.

  Aaron had always been what people referred to as a nerd, although he preferred to be called a technical genius. He believed that was a more accurate description. Even though it appeared the majority of the population had been wiped out by the virus, he knew there were survivors. That was why he’d decided to broadcast live from his location. He wanted to find a way to educate the people that were still alive about what was going on. If they were hiding in their homes, checking their televisions from time to time for any signs of life, and they stumbled across his broadcasts, they’d know they were not alone. And at the same time, they’d become educated on the evil that was lurking about on the streets.

  So far, Aaron had come across a few families in hiding. They’d refused to open their doors to him, panicked that they’d become infected, but he’d found them. And, of course, there were the Crusaders. He’d been following them around the city, trying to get an accurate count. He wanted to know how many there were. He’d counted ten so far, and he was sure there were more. They’d been preaching about their band of brothers across Southern California as they walked the streets. He hadn’t been able to get too close to them without being seen. They were holed up in a building that housed a convenience store, next door to a mechanic shop. He’d watched them go in and out of both buildings. They also had several motorcycles. There were two distinct men with graying beards and bandanas that rode Harleys. The rest of the guys were generally on foot. He figured that the two men on Harleys were in charge of the others. Aaron wondered how scum like them were still alive, but millions of innocent people were wiped out. It just didn’t seem fair.

  He had been following the Crusaders for over a week now, keeping a fairly safe distance. He watched them mark the buildings with their gang signs, loot stores, and stock up on supplies. Recently, they’d taken to vandalizing cars and setting buildings on fire. Why? He wasn’t sure. He supposed it was a symbol of authority. Their way of beating their chests, boasting superiority to those still alive.

  Tcht…shcht…

  Aaron held still and listened.

  Shhhtch…

  He heard the distinct scuffling of feet. Someone was entering the alley.

  Tap, tap, tap… The sound of something metal being tapped on the ground echoed in the shadows.

  “Well, well, well,” a man’s voice said. “What have we here?”

  Aaron’s heart drummed in his ears. He’d been caught. Slowly, he opened his eyes and tried to focus on the dark figure in the alley. The man lifted up a tire iron and smacked the end of it threateningly in the palm of his other hand. “You infected?”

  Aaron’s voice caught in his throat. He didn’t move. He didn’t breathe. He didn’t do anything.

  Again, the man smacked the tire iron into the palm of his hand. “Are you infected?” he asked, raising his voice.

  Aaron swallowed hard. He was unable to form words. This was not how he wanted to die.

  Amused, the man chuckled, “I’m gonna ask one more time. If you don’t answer, I’m gonna have to beat it out of you. I don’t wanna get infected. Gotta keep this city clean. You hear me, boy?”

  Crack! Bam! The man slammed the tire iron against the metal trashcan right next to Aaron’s head, barely missing him. The clanging sound was deafening. His ears were ringing. Aaron leaped to his feet, to avoid the next blow. The video camera he’d used to send out his transmission flew out of his hands, landing on the ground. The man swung again, bashing the trashcan to make a point. The noise of metal on metal was earsplitting.

  “I’m not infected!” Aaron screeched, hands out in front of him. “I swear, I’m not!”

  The man chuckled, enjoying himself. “You a little pansy? Afraid of me?”

  “Um..,” Aaron’s voice quavered, “no…”

  The man stopped laughing and lowered his voice, “You should be.”

  Aaron eyed the entrance to the alley. There was no way to get past the guy. If he were to make a run for it, he’d surely get tagged. No doubt he’d suffer from broken bones. Possibly a blow to the chest causing broken ribs. Maybe worse. But if he stayed, he’d surely be beaten to death. If he were to run and make it past the man, he’d more than likely be beaten by the entire gang of Crusaders in the street. Neither choice was appealing.

  The man continued with his intimidation, keeping his voice calm. “I’m scarier than the infected. Scarier than them alien ships. You wanna know why those little green bastards haven’t come outta that ship? Huh? You wanna know why?”

  Aaron pressed his lips together. He wasn’t sure whether or not the man wanted an answer. He decided it was best not to say anything.

  “I’m gonna tell you why.” Crash! Crash! The man swung the tire iron at the cardboard boxes sending them flying into the opposite wall. “Because of me. Me and my brothers. That’s why. They’re afraid of me! And you should be afraid of me! You hear me, boy?”

  Forcing the lump in his throat to go down, Aaron gulped while giving a curt nod.

  “That’s a good boy,” the man said. “You know, I like you. You listen to reason. You know who’s in charge, don’t you?”

  Aaron nodded again. He then eyed his video camera on the cement.

  “I might be able to use you…”

  Screaming and yelling interrupted the man from finishing his thought. He quickly glanced over his shoulder in the direction of the commotion. Suddenly, the guttural growls of the infected filled the alley.

  “What the…?” the man snarled. He looked at Aaron and jabbed him hard in the gut with the other end of the tire iron.

  Aaron doubled over, clutching his stomach, coughing.

  “You’re gettin’ off easy, kid. We’ll talk more later. Got some evil to eradicate.” The man strutted from the alley, still smacking the tire iron into the palm of his hand.

  Shaking, Aaron snatched up his video camera, noticing the little green light was on. His camera had been broadcasting. It must’ve turned on when it fell to the ground. He tried to turn it off, but his fingers were trembling too much. He’d figure it out later; once he’d gotten out of there, and found a safe place to hide.

  Peeking around the corner from the alley, he saw four of the Crusaders, bashing the head in of an infected man on the street. They were whooping and hollering. It was as if they were enjoying themselves. Blood was splattered on the side of the building, dripping down a biohazard sign that had been stamped on the wall. Aaron then noticed that the building housed a medical clinic. He wondered if the infected man had been inside and the Crusaders accidentally let him out.

  Aaron stood there for a moment, mesmerized by the horrific scene. There was another man dressed in black leather, lying on the ground. It was one of the Crusaders. Dark red blood pooled around his upper body from a nasty gash in his neck. He figured the infected man must’ve attacked him when he’d opened the door to the building. That drops the Crusaders down to nine, he thought. Nine that he’d seen, anyway.

  “Grrrrrr…” The little
hairs on the back of Aaron’s neck stood on end at the familiar guttural sound. A sudden chill shocked him right between the shoulder blades making him stand at attention. The growling was coming from behind him.

  Turning his head, his breathing stopped as he felt his heart plummet straight into the pit of his stomach. Two golden eyes stared at him from a puffy white face. A woman with brown, oily hair, wearing nothing but a torn, blue, paper hospital gown that was hanging off one shoulder, stood there glaring at him. She was about two car lengths away. Crouching down, she lifted her upper lip and snarled. Aaron knew what that meant. He was her prey.

  Making a spur-of-the-moment decision, Aaron ran as fast as he could toward the Crusaders. He could hear the woman coming up behind him. One of the men stopped swinging his bloody baseball bat and stared at them. All of the men turned, positioning their weapons for their next kill. Aaron wondered if they’d help him or wait for the infected to take him down before they acted.

  ***

  Mike had talked Ellie into staying at the condo while he drove to the military base. The thought made her nervous. She didn’t like being alone.

  What if he doesn’t come back?

  Before Mike had left, he asked her to go to the garage where they’d been storing all of the canned foods, water, and other supplies. He wanted her to pack the back of the SUV with provisions in case they needed to move quickly. Since Mike left Ellie with the SUV, he borrowed the neighbors’ yellow Corvette. He had found the keys in their empty condo. Ellie wondered if her neighbors were still alive, or if they were amongst the infected, or dead.

  Switching on the flat screen TV, Ellie scrolled through the channels. She wanted to make sure she wasn’t missing something important before heading down to the garage, which was not attached to her upstairs condo. She wanted to see if any of the channels were up and running. A couple of times, she and Mike had come across a broadcast, giving them a ray of hope, that there were people still out there alive. But then they’d never see the broadcast again.

  Ellie’s heart leaped in her chest with excitement when she’d unexpectedly come across a redheaded teen on channel 209. Her excitement turned to fear as she learned about the Crusaders. She’d then watched as the poor boy was being terrorized by one of the scary men. She began to hyperventilate when an infected woman, in a paper gown began chasing him down the street. The camera, bouncing up and down as the boy ran, zeroed in on a medical clinic located downtown. Ellie recognized the clinic. She knew exactly where to find the kid. The clinic was maybe 30 or 40 miles from her condo. The transmission abruptly ended, and the television screen went black.

  Ellie waited for a few minutes, hoping the boy would reappear. When he didn’t return, she flipped off the television. She was so worried for the teen’s safety that her body was trembling. She needed to do something. She couldn’t just leave him out there with both the Crusaders and the infected. Not when she knew where he was. She needed to help him. Ellie paced back and forth trying to figure out what to do. It was times like this she wished there was cell service. If only she could call Mike. He would know what to do.

  Max, Ellie’s dog, was sitting at her feet, wagging his tail. His big brown eyes trained on her. She knew he was hoping for a treat.

  “We’ve got to help that kid,” she said to Max, scratching behind his ear. He wagged his tail harder. Making up her mind, she quickly patted his head. “There’s no time to wait for Mike. We can do this ourselves.”

  Max panted and then eyed the kitchen where the treats were kept.

  “We’re safer in numbers, right?” Ellie said, trying to convince herself that she was making the right decision. “The more survivors we find, the better. We’ll bring him back here. That’s what Mike would do.”

  Ellie clipped Max’s blue leash to his collar. She went back to her bedroom and grabbed one of Mike’s guns. He had given her a quick verbal lesson a couple of weeks ago, promising to teach her how to use it, but hadn’t gotten around to it. They’d been so busy making the condo safe to live in, and scavenging the surrounding units for supplies, that he hadn’t had time to show her yet.

  Ellie grabbed a box of ammo. She hoped it belonged to the gun she’d grabbed, and not to the one that Mike carried with him. Not that she even knew how to load the damn thing anyhow. Not feeling comfortable carrying it, she snatched a purse from her closet and slipped the gun and ammo inside. She hoped she wouldn’t need to use it.

  Running down the stairs, Ellie headed to the garage, but Max was pulling her in the opposite direction. Ellie forced him to walk to the garage with her. She entered the garage, opened the passenger side door of the SUV, and tossed her purse inside. She glanced around at the supplies they’d been gathering, neatly stacked against the far wall. It was a one car garage, but long and deep. Perfect for storing their provisions. She told herself that she would start loading the SUV when she returned. She grabbed a couple of bottles of Spring Water for the road and tossed them onto the passenger seat next to her purse. Max began to whine and pulled harder on the leash. It was evident that he had to go to the bathroom.

  “Really?” Ellie sighed. She was anxious to get going. “You have to go now?” Max tugged again. Ellie followed him from the garage to a grassy area at the bottom of the stairs leading up to her condo. She worried that the boy would be dead by the time she arrived if he wasn’t already.

  That poor kid. He must be so scared. She then thought of her little sister and her parents. They lived in Florida. She hadn’t been able to get through to any of them before the phone lines had gone down three weeks ago. The electricity had come back on when the spaceships arrived, however, the phone lines and cell towers never did. She wondered about her family’s safety. Were they still alive? Chances were slim, but she was still hopeful. After all, she was still alive. So maybe they were, too. She’d done a lot of silent grieving and praying over the last few weeks. Deep in her gut, even though she didn’t want to admit it, she knew they were gone.

  “Come on, hurry,” Ellie encouraged. “We’ve got to go!”

  Max finished doing his thing and happily kicked up the grass around him. Ellie turned away and tugged at his leash to head back to the garage, but Max didn’t move. Instead, he began to growl and pull in the opposite direction. Ellie looked at him, dumbfounded. Growling was not something he normally did. Max was one of those neurotic dogs with strange phobias such as being afraid of the dumpster and mailboxes. He was also non-confrontational. If he didn’t like something, he’d flash his teeth, and then run and hide. Ellie often thought his reactions were from his time spent in the shelter. She wondered what had happened to him as a pup. It had taken years for him to conquer a small portion of his fears. She would always tease that he was almost like a real dog.

  Ellie held completely still. Her arms encompassed in goose bumps. She glanced over her shoulder and stared again at the little beige dog. He was looking in the direction of the building to the right of Ellie’s condo. It was the building Mrs. Marshall lived in.

  “What’s wrong, Max?” She scanned her surroundings feeling frightened. She didn’t hear anything. Not even birds. But that wasn’t uncommon. Ever since the virus hit, everything had been abnormally quiet. It was as if the animals even knew that something was wrong. A cool breeze coming from the ocean, which was a couple of miles west, ruffled her long, silky brown hair. Ellie tucked some loose strands behind her ear to keep it out of her face and looked up at the ship that bathed them in dark shadow. From what she could tell, nothing was happening. Nothing had changed. The sight of the silent ship made her stomach clench. The anticipation of waiting for something to happen terrified her. She hated the waiting.

  Tugging on the leash, Max was trying to pull Ellie in the direction of Mrs. Marshall’s unit. The ship didn’t seem to bother him. It did the first week of its arrival. But now, it was as if the dog had chalked it up as not being a threat because nothing had happened. Maybe that’s why it had been sitting there for so long. Maybe that was the
plan. The aliens, or whatever it was on board, wanted them to get used to it.

  Max let out a strangled bark as he pulled Ellie to Mrs. Marshall’s front porch. He was pulling so hard that his collar was choking him. Ellie gnawed on her lower lip. “Did something happen to Mrs. Marshall?” she asked Max.

  Max kept yanking, pulling her to the door. Ellie hadn’t checked on the older woman since yesterday evening. She’d brought over a few makeshift meals she’d prepared; peanut butter sandwiches on stale bread, crackers, and canned fruit. She had also supplied her with another case of spring water. Ellie had been checking in on Mrs. Marshall several times a day but had recently slowed down. Since the older woman’s mind had been declining, explaining who she was every time she’d dropped in, had become draining.

  Ellie was anxious to get on the road. She wanted to help that boy, but at the same time, she couldn’t leave Mrs. Marshall if something was wrong. What if she’d fallen? What if she was in desperate need of Ellie’s help? Ellie couldn’t imagine being in her late eighties, living alone, with no family or friends around to help her. Supposedly, Mrs. Marshall had a woman that would come in daily to cook meals for her and clean. The only reason Ellie knew that was because Mrs. Marshall kept confusing her for the woman that she’d hired before the outbreak. On more than one occasion, Mrs. Marshall had threatened to fire her due to the rubbish food she was being fed.

  Max scratched at the front door and then looked up at her. Ellie knocked. Impatient, she tapped the toe of her tennis shoe on the pavement as she knocked again. She felt she was wasting too much time.

  “Hello!” she called into the crack of the closed door and then rang the doorbell. There was still no answer. Ellie was growing more restless by the second. She wanted to get on the road to help that boy before it was too late. Grasping the doorknob, she was surprised when it turned. Opening the door a crack, she peeked inside. There was no sign of the elderly woman.