by Zach Sweets
"No." But the denial sounded weak to my own ears. After everything I'd seen, the horror of what he'd become was getting to me. "How could he be dead if he's banging on the door?"
"It's obvious his brain is fried, like the others, but his nervous system still works. He isn't your son anymore. Don't you see? He didn't talk to you? Not even one word? The screaming and growling means he's become like them, an animal, a monster."
"Please leave. Let me handle it."
"I won't leave. Hell, I told you, you're the first survivor I've come across in days."
He wouldn't leave and he expected me to let him kill Thomas? This guy was a lunatic. "I'm not letting you back in."
He muttered something that sounded like, "I don't need your permission to get inside."
Upstairs the banging continued. All that thumping must be hurting his hands. I mounted the stairs to check on him. "Son, you okay in there? Thomas?" All I heard was an animal-like grunting. Perhaps that jerk was right, and Thomas was already dead.
I slowly opened the door. Thomas ran straight at me, mouth open wide. More black gore dripped from his lips and his hands were bloody. It was as though he didn't feel the pain. Just as his mouth snapped to bite my hand, a guttural triple shot blasted from behind me.
Thomas fell to the floor. The blood that oozed from the torn holes wasn't red, but a mix of dark black and purple.
I fell to my knees and reached for my son, tears blurring my vision. The gun-toting asshole pointed his weapon at Thomas, as if he expected my baby to get up again.
"I told you to stay out!" I screamed frantically, leaping at him. I pounded him with my fists until I couldn't find the strength to lift my arms anymore.
He just allowed it, didn't even try to defend himself. "I'm sorry. It had to be done. The boy you knew was gone the minute he was bitten. I can't afford to lose you. I need help."
"What if I don't want to help you?" What if I just wanted to lie down and die beside my beloved Thomas?
"Have you been watching or listening to the news? It's been on every channel. Everyone else is gone. They either died for real or turned zombie. I know it's hard, damn near impossible to believe and understand. I lost my two kids and my wife. My whole family."
"We just got back home from camping this morning. I played music on my radio. The road was fine too. How did it happen?" My head was in pain from crying and anger. I did everything to control myself before I actually hurt that fucking stranger who shot Thomas.
"I seriously don't know how it all began. According to the news, it's happening everywhere. I live a couple towns north of here, just inside the Delaware state border. I stopped here because I was looking for my younger brother; he's the only family I have now." His voice started to choke up as if he was about to cry.
"My God, have you found him?"
"No, I haven't." He reached into his bag and pulled out a radio device. "Carl, my brother, and I built this. We use it to communicate no matter where we are. He's a long-haul trucker, so it's the best way to keep in touch. I was listening to the radio and talking to Carl until all the stations covering the mess stopped broadcasting about two days ago. That was when I stopped hearing from Carl and this location is where he was last. I had to come and find him." He sighed deeply. "I was starting to think everyone was gone as well. I was wrong, since I found you. I've been fighting and putting zombies down ever since it started. In the first days, I considered killing myself, so I can guess how you feel. My family was gone, and I thought I should be with them. Carl's what stopped me."
"I'm the first survivor you've met…since how long?"
"It's been a couple of days. I stayed in my home area debating whether I should go out or end my life." He scratched his head and shrugged his shoulders.
"A couple of days? That can't be. I mean, I know I saw everyone become zombies today. One just killed my neighbor. But there has to be someone else out there." Okay, I couldn't handle this shit. I looked at Thomas, where all the purplish blood was running from his head to leak all over the floor. Yep, it's real. Impossible, but real. Before I knew it, I was on the floor wailing, "It's too much."
"I know it is. Let it all out. Better now, because we won't have a chance next time."
"Next time? Who the hell do you think you are? There's no way I'm going anywhere with you. You shot my son. I'm perfectly capable of surviving on my own."
"Please don't make it any harder. You need me and I need you. We need to help each other," he begged me, placing both hands on my shoulders, his eyes watery. "I've been alone with no one to talk to, to keep me sane and to convince me there is a point to killing zombies. I thought I was the only one left. That was no picnic, but I lived with it." He walked away, back down to the living room I assumed, since I didn't hear the front door opening or shutting.
As much as it hurt, I went into Thomas' bedroom to grab his favorite blanket and I covered him. There weren't any tears left in me. I wanted to cry but…I couldn't. My son didn't deserve this. He had been so full of joy. I guess that jerk was right; I had no choice now. Somebody was going to pay for what happened to my son.
I found him in the kitchen. Apparently, he hadn't eaten for a while. "Eat all you want. I'll get bags so we can bring food with us on the road. It's not safe here anymore, right?"
"I'm Rex." He smiled slightly as he reached his hand out.
I shook it and introduced myself. "Jake." Everything was so horrible I couldn't even smile. Not even a little. Trying to be polite really wasn't worth the effort it would take, so I just dropped his hand and went to get the bags from the hallway closet. I grabbed a full bag of granola and dry fruits then packed them up. "Do I need to pack anything other than food and drink?"
"No, I don't think so. I have binoculars, flashlights, ammo, a couple of handguns, lighters, and um…that's it. Why don't you grab some batteries for the flashlights?"
"Okay." I went to the next room where I kept all the batteries in the drawer, then put them in the backpack. I came back and saw that he was still eating. "I'm ready whenever you are."
"Don't you want to rest a bit before we head out? It'll be a long walk and all. It's harder to drive now. The roads are horrible."
"The sooner we leave, the quicker I'll feel better. My son is upstairs lying dead on the floor," I responded angrily.
"Okay, I'm sorry. You're right. Let's go." He shoveled in food as fast as he could, took a huge drink of water, then we headed out of the house. I followed him because he was alive and if I didn't want to be left alone, I really had no choice.
I didn't feel like moving, let alone walking, and I realized we might not have to. "Hey, how about motorcycles? Might be easier to get through the clutter on the roads, and a lot better than walking. I've got two in the garage. The second one belonged to my ex, but he never came back to get it. He's probably dead now for all I know." Rex made no comment to my use of the male pronoun. Maybe he didn't care if my ex was a "he" or "she." If he did, he was out of luck, because it looked like, help-wise, I was it.
"Bikes are perfect. How's the gas in them?"
"I filled them both a couple days ago."
As we entered the garage, Rex whistled, "Those are some nice bikes you got there."
My pride sparked. "Thanks, they're both 2008 GV250 Aquila's. Great on miles per gallon. The orange one's my baby. You take the red one." A black leather jacket with orange lines on both sleeves was on a hook on the wall by the door. I went to take it and put it on. I looked back at Rex and I noticed he already wore a leather jacket. "Do you want another jacket? There's blood and holes on yours."
"Nah, this jacket belonged to my son, but thanks anyway." Rex rubbed on his jacket and it was clear he missed his son more than anything. I understood. I wanted to ask him how old his son was, but it wasn't the right time.
I nodded and got on my bike. Reaching behind me, I picked up the helmet and pointed Rex to his. Once we were all set, we cautiously left the house.
Two
&nbs
p; April 28
Storms
Boy, Rex wasn't kidding: the roads were horrible. So many cars were totaled or just abandoned. Several areas were blackened by fire. There was no way cars could easily get through the roads and I was glad I owned motorcycles. Rex stopped every time he saw a semi-truck on the road; he hadn't given up hope of finding Carl. As much as I was still furious at him for shooting my son, I understood his pain.
We'd been riding west. I wasn't sure where we were going, and really, I didn't care. I hadn't been far away from home for a while, because with Thomas in school, we tended to stay closer to the house. It was still hard to accept the fact that my son was gone. The day he was born had been the happiest day of my life. The first word he said was "dada" while he reached his little arms up to hug me. Yeah, he had been the world to me. I'd have died for him, but now I was going to have to live for him.
The farther west we went, the worse it smelled. I didn't know how to describe the odor, since I had never experienced anything like it. It was so bad just breathing made me gag. I had to pull over and grab a bandana I had packed in my bag. I used it to cover my nose and mouth, filtering out some of that horrible smell, trying to breathe a little better. Apparently, the stink didn't affect Rex, since he took his time savoring the water he drank from a bottle while we were stopped.
"The smell doesn't bother you, Rex?"
"What smell? I don't smell anything." He looked at me like I was hallucinating or something.
"Well, open your damn nostrils and take a whiff, smell what I do. It's damn near gagging me just breathing."
"I guess I stopped noticing, because it's always the same. Probably the zombies you smell anyway."
"Well, it gets worse the further west we are. Does that mean there are more zombies out there? Is that what you're telling me?"
"Could be…or could be your imagination. Let's get back on the road before it gets dark. Maybe we'll find a place to rest."
"Okay, let's go then." I was not going to like him at all. He was impossible. It didn't make any sense. He whined about being lonely and having no one to talk to, and then he was short and rude. What baloney.
The bandana did help ease the noxious odor, for which I was glad. The road had gotten harder to navigate and we came across more piled-up cars. The aftermath of an explosion left oil splattered across the blacktop, scorched areas on the street, and cars with dark, thick smoke pouring from under their hoods. We passed several cars with burned bodies in the seats, but there were no more zombies or any signs of Carl so far.
Rex glanced at the sky and I looked up to see what had caught his attention. Clouds filled the sky, black as coal. I couldn't stop staring; I'd never seen such darkness before.
"Shit. Quick, over there!" Rex pointed at a small barn, opened up the throttle, and sped toward it.
Him panicking? Not a good thing. I followed him without any argument. He obviously knew what the clouds meant and I didn't. I had to trust him to know when we had to get under cover. We pulled up to the barn, opened the doors, and went inside, pushing the bikes with us.
"What's going on?" I asked him once the doors were secured.
"Before all the shit happened with my family, it got funky cloudy and rained. Weird looking clouds, like what's outside now, and this strange colored rain. Not just that, but weird tornadoes formed, too. They were fairly small, F1's maybe, but they developed in places they shouldn't be."
"Tornadoes? Odd colored rain? I'm lost. First the zombies and now this? Or was it first the weather, then the zombies? Did some alien invasion cause all this?"
"I know it's strange. This is the fourth time I've seen this weird weather since everything started, and it's never turned out well. That's why I want us to be here inside and not out there." Rex looked around the barn, gauging the security. "This place should be safe enough for us to sleep here tonight, and we can leave in the morning."
"What if the weather hasn't changed by morning?" I stared out the window and watched the sky. Sure enough, maybe three or four twisters formed. Luckily, they seemed far from us. The rain was orange or pink; something close to that color poured from the coal-colored clouds. I was mesmerized by it. It was too gorgeous to ignore, almost hypnotic. I wanted to see it closer, feel it on my skin. It nearly lured me outside, but Rex stopped me before I got close to the door. His hand on my shoulder broke me out of my trance.
"Are you crazy? There are twisters out there. The rain looks beautiful, but you can't go out. It's not safe."
"Sorry. Is there any side-effect if I was out there, being splashed by pinkish rain?"
"The first time I saw it, the people who were still outside fell to the ground, as if they were having a seizure, then they became immobile for a few seconds. I almost ran outside to help them out, but they got up and acted weird."
"Weird, how?"
"They walked really slow. Everyone made a groaning sound and I swore I saw their eyes change colors, but I wasn't close enough to be sure. Their heads twitched." All of sudden, he started to weep a little. "My son Matt, just fourteen, his girlfriend was one of the first to be turned. He ran out to help her and she attacked him. She took a good bite out of his shoulder, but he got away before she caused more damage."
"My god, I'm so sorry."
"I didn't know then, but the damage was already done. When we got him back inside, my wife, Katherine, went to get the first aid kit in our bathroom to clean the wound. It wasn't long before Matt turned into one of them. Katherine was the first person Matt attacked, then my young daughter. They nearly got me, but I trapped them in the bathroom. Carl contacted me through the radio and he told me to shoot my family in the head. I trusted my brother. I did it. I shot them." He gave a gasping sob.
I wasn't sure how I could comfort him except to squeeze his shoulder.
He cleared his throat. "Anyway, that's what happened to my family and Carl experienced it first hand when he tried to shoot one of the zombies in the chest and it kept getting up. It finally stayed down when he shot the bastard thing in the head." He sighed and looked up at me. "Please be smart and don't go outside when it's raining like that."
"Yeah, I wasn't thinking. So, what happens if this isn't clear by morning?"
"It usually doesn't last very long. We'll find out soon enough and figure it out from there." He walked to center of the room, where there were bundles of hay stacked up, and he made himself comfortable.
Before I could say another word, he fell asleep. I watched him for a minute, and then turned back to study the twisters and colorful rain in the dying light. It was hard to believe it had only been a couple of hours since we left my home. The sky darkened with the clouds, but the sun seemed to have slipped away. The last thing I remember was watching rivulets of that weird rain tracing down the windowpane. When I came to, I was on the ground, my cheek stinging where Rex had slapped me.
"Ouch, what did you do that for?" I rubbed my cheek, which I was sure reddened from the blow.
"The thud of your body hitting the floor woke me up. You must have fainted, because I couldn't wake you up for nearly five minutes. When's the last time you ate or drank?"
"Uh, I did eat and drink today. I don't know why I passed out. I think I need a drink. Maybe it'll help." Shit, I'd never fainted or blacked out like that before. I shook my head. Rex took the water bottle from his bag and brought it over. I chugged the water, and realized, boy, was I thirsty. "There's a protein bar in my bag, in the front pocket."
Rex went and got it and I felt better shortly after I ate it. "Thanks. I don't know why I passed out. "
"It's okay. I was like that when it first happened. Everything was so overwhelming, I barely held it together."
"I bet. So, weather's still bad?" I eyed the window. I always was a weather junkie. Any storm, tornado, hurricane, or hail—they always fascinated me.
"Rain stopped and the twisters are slowly fading away." As I started to rise, he pushed his hand against my chest to stop me. "Stay and rest. I'l
l take the watch now."
"But I'm not tired." Thomas was gone. My neighbors, hell, my entire neighborhood had died. There was no way I could sleep, but I realized exhaustion was going to hurt, so I decided to give it a shot. I shut my eyes and tried to relax.
Three
April 29
First Kill
The sun was bright, shining right in my face. I opened my eyes and saw Rex sitting next to me, facing in the opposite direction. It was obvious he was struggling to stay awake. The windows were wide open for some reason. I got up and slowly walked to them, wanting to check out the area. The sky was so blue, with no clouds in sight. I looked around and saw someone approaching. Live person or a zombie?
"Rex," I whispered, loud enough to startle him.
"Wha…?" He groaned as he got up to see what I wanted.
"I saw someone out there." I pointed outside. "Just not sure if it's a person or a zombie."
Rex grabbed the binoculars from his bag and looked out the window. "Ah, it's a zombie. I don't think it knows we're here. We better get back on the road."
"Where are we going anyway?" I finally got up the nerve to ask. I was sick of not knowing where we were headed or what was going on.
"West." Rex didn't say much, busy packing up his stuff and sliding the wide doors open before getting on his motorcycle.
"Well, duh, but where? What's in the west?" I sounded annoyed. "You wanted me to go with you. I have every right to know where we're going."
"West is where we go. We just keep going until we find more survivors. Once we hit Missouri, then we'll figure the next step."
"Why Missouri?"
"If Carl survived, it's where he'd go. We agreed to meet in a small town a couple miles past Joplin in case something horrible happened." He started the engine and took off.
I debated about just saying fuck this and letting him go. His attitude and not telling me anything tired me. I'd tried being civil, even after all I had been through and all we were dealing with, and I deserved to be treated with respect, which meant being a part of planning where to head and what to do. Despite all that, the thought of being alone in this nightmare changed my mind about letting Rex go.
