by Thomas Baker
"I told you it wasn't pointless to keep all my stuff Dusty," Tyrone said, when the song ended. "One day soon the military and the government will have this all figured out. This is the USA my man. I'll be back to playing football but more importantly,playing with my female fans, in no time. If you know what I mean."
This got a laugh from everyone, except Dusty, who grunted.
"I will find my family too. You can count on that."
Alan sat over on the couch, content with his full belly. He certainlyhoped Tyrone did. He knew how Tyrone's Mom must feel right now. Not knowing where their child was. If he was still alive or turned into one of those.....things. Those familiar feelings of sadness mixed with rage rose inside of him. With an effort he shut them down. Not now.
"I bet they're in some city shelter or some FEMA or National Guard site," Alan tried to reassure him. "Who knows, maybe they're having a nice hot breakfast right now. Just like us."
"You can't rely on the government for building a proper toilet so you can take a shit in it. I wouldn't hold my breath that any help from the government is coming," Harold said.
Alan almost jumped up. He didn't even realize that Harold had come back out of his room.
"In fact, I wouldn't be shocked if they discovered they caused the Outbreak," Harold went on. "Probably some military science experiment gone wrong, as they were trying to find a source of cheap troops to supply and control."
"What in the hell are you going on about?" Dusty stood up from his chair, visibly upset. "What are you, some kinda conspiracy nut? Is that why you have this cabin all decked out with supplies?"
"Dustin, why don't you shut the hell up," JT said.
"This man has saved us in more ways than one and you are going to start insulting him?" Gus chimed in. "For having an opinion?"
"I doubt he's ever served in the military. I have, and I will not sit here and listen to this horseshit about the evil United States, we are always the problem, left wing crap." Dusty threw his hands up and stormed out of the cabin.
Alan could see that Harold was visibly shaking, as if to control an earthquake inside of him. He knew that look from firsthand experience. Alan waited for him to speak again, but Harold stood with his eyes closed, fists in balls.
"Sorry, man," JT said. "He's kinda a dick."
Harold left, going out the front door without a word.
Those who remained looked at each other.
"I'll go, "Alan volunteered.
Alan found Harold sitting on his front porch chair, rifle across his lap, staring off into the woods.
"Care if I join you?" Alan asked.
"I don't need any more apologies, if that's what you came for."
"No, I mean not exactly." Alan pulled up a chair. "They all mean well in their own way, but at timesthey act like children. Even Gus and Dusty in a way. They bicker and fight and I've wanted to leave them half a dozen times. Just about that time, as I'm ready to go, some threat happens or some big obstacle shows up. Somehow, every time, they've pulled their act together. Here we all are, still alive."
When Harold didn't tell him to leave, Alan went on.
"Now Dusty seems to think the whole world is against him. I'm convinced that he still thinks thatabout us half the time. He likes to throw his weight around too, but can't figure out his rough manner is why most of the time no one wants to follow him. He is paranoid, sometimes to the point I think he is crazy. He can be abrasive and callous too. On the other hand he has saved our asses on more than one occasion. He knows strategies, and he knows how to fight. So I'm just hoping that you can look past his big mouth and not judge us all by what he says. He can be valuable to you."
"You make a good point. I also think you don't want to be dumped back out there?" Harold asked.
"Fair enough. I won't deny that we don't," Alan replied.
"You calling him crazy, that's like the pot calling the kettle black. After your outburst on the highway, right?"
They both sat in silence for a long time. Alan was just about to get up and leave when Harold spoke again.
"You tell that son of...you tell him that this is my roof, my hospitality. He should wise up to that."
"Sure. Thanks, Harold," Alan said, relieved.
"Now get on out of here, I want to be left alone."
So did Alan. Instead of going back inside, he walked from the front of the cabin around to the back. He didn't get to be alone yet. He immediately ran into JT and Hannah. They stood close to each other, looking at a big tanker truck parked alongside the generator. Alan planned to go straight off but curiosity got the better of him.
JT turned as he heard Alan approached. "This guy isn't fooling around when he said he was in it to win it. He has a whole tanker to fuel his generator. On the other side, you can look out and see a huge field, with a garden planted in one section. Off in the distance it looks like a lake with a boathouse on it."
"He can grow food, catch food and cook food." Hannah sounded impressed. "Still, I can't shake this feeling that something's not quiteright here. Plus, how long do you think he is willing to share all of this with us?"
"Women's intuition?" Alan asked with a smile. He was only half joking.
Hannah smiled. "Screw you."
"How did it go with Harold?" JT asked.
"I've smoothed over his ruffled feathers for now. As much as I hate to say it, Dusty may have a point about this guy. Like you are saying, look at this setup." Alan waved his hand around.
"This may be just how he's lived his whole life," Hannah countered.
"Sticking up for him Hannah? You have a crush on the guy? Didn't know hairy wild men were your type," mocked JT.
"What, are you jealous JT?" Hannah smiled.
"Guy seems...strange." JT said, serious now.
"If you lived by yourself out here, you mightstart toappear like a weirdo too," Hannah said.
"I guess you have a point," Alan scratched his head. He looked off in the distance. He could see the sun winking off the water. "Look, I'm going to take off for a while, check out the lake." He walked off.
"Wait. Alan. What about the traps and stuff? Harold warned us about them."
Alan raised his hand over his head, waving goodbye. He would be careful, if there were really traps. Like JT, he thought Harold was a weird cat, and didn't believe everything the guy was saying. If the traps were real, well he knew his way around the outdoors. Either way, he didn't expect to have any problems. If he exploded, well he didn't really care that much if he died. The most important thing to him right now was getting away from the others.
Alan felt his pent up anxiety calm as he walked farther out across the field. He didn't think the crazy comment Harold made would get to him, but it did. Alan couldn't really explain why he did things like he did the other night, bashing in and chopping all the zombie's heads off. They were like impulses he couldn't control. Maybe I am going crazy.
The sun was warm on his face as he crossed Harold's field and entered the woods. A cool breeze blew and the sounds of nature surrounded him. After a little while he zoned out, the thoughts of the dangerous traps and equally dangerous zombies were gone. He started reliving that terrible night, like he had many times since it happened. It was like the worst movie in the world, stuck on repeat. A special showing for one.
1328 Daisy Lane.
The picture perfect home.
The picture perfect family.
Until that day. The day of the Outbreak.
Alan Gentry. He thought of himself as the cliché American worker. The guy who worked for the same company for fifteen years only to have his job stolen by some corporate assholes, forced to take a lesser position as an Overnight Production Line Supervisor, or leave the company. Life could be worse he always thought.
He got home that morning, a morning like any other, as his wife, Audra, was getting up with their eleven-month-old son, Alan Junior, AJ for short. Nothing unusual. Chloe and Lauren, their seven- and nine-year-old daughters, were upt
oo. They scurried around Audra and AJ. Always thinking they were helping. Usually they were just in the way. It made him chuckle.
Today was no different. Alan did his part helpingout, getting the girls off to school. After they left, he headed off to take a shower and get ready for his daytime sleep routine.
Alan had just laid down, watching the news as he decompressed. The newscaster was going on about what appeared to be a serious rabies outbreak in Ohio. How in the hell are rabies so serious as to make the national news? He thought to himself. Doesn't even make sense, he laughed.
Alan found himself nodding off quicker than normal today. Probably because he only drank two of the four Wild Cherry Pepsi cans he had taken to work with him. He was about to drift off when he heard Audra come in to change her clothes before running errands.
Alan propped himself up. He loved watching his wife undress in front of him. Every one of her curves looked extra enticing. He thought he would try his luck this morning as he playfully tried pulling her onto the bed but he was quickly shot down by AJ's cries from the other room. Audra leaned down for a kiss and with a playful stroke of his manhood promised to come wake him up later before the girls came home. Satisfied with that thought, Alan shot her a smile and told her he loved her. He didn't say it all the time, when he did he meant it. Alan eased back down onto the bed after he heard Audra and AJ leave. The light noise of the television always helped him fall asleep easier. He did just that, slipping into the realms of sleep.
"DADDY!" Alan shot up at the sound of Lauren screaming for him. Alan literally fell out of bed trying to get up so fast. He had no sense of what time it was. Disoriented he ran out of the bedroom to find his daughter frozen in fear staring down the hallway.
"Baby what's wrong?" he asked.
She just stood there pointing towards AJ's room. Her eyes were wide, pupils like dark moons eclipsing.
"What?" He asked again, panic starting in his voice.
"Mommy hurt AJ and Chloe," she trembled.
"Mommy would never hurt any of you kids," he reassured her. Lauren's whole body quaked. Alan rushed to her, afraid she would pass out and drop to the floor.
That's when he noticed it.
Blood.
Smeared on the walls and floor of the hallway. On AJ's dooras well.
Alan's stomach sank.
He slowly tiptoed towards the door to his son's room.
"DADDY DON'T!" Lauren pleaded with him. The sound of her hysteria broke his heart.
"Stay right there!" he commanded her.
He reached for the doorknob, took a deep breath, and slowly opened the door.
Alan almost threw up. The first thing he saw was Chloe lying on the floor. It looked as though a wild animal had ripped her throat out. His brain tried to refuse what his eyes were telling him. His baby girl couldn't be on the floor, dead in a pool of blood. A sound like someone slurping up spaghetti drew his attention. Alan slowly turned his head. What he saw was an absolute nightmare come to life. An image he now saw every time he closed his eyes. Standing right in front of him was Audra, his wife, pulling out the insides of AJ's stomach and shoving them in her mouth.
"Audra what did you do!? He shouted at her. He never shouted at her their entire marriage. She spun and lunged towards him, not making a sound. That's when he noticed bite marks all over her arms and shoulders.
Alan looked away and looked back several times, unable to process what was happening. She was on top of him in seconds. They toppled backwards over the rocking chair in AJ's room. Alan was straining to keep her snapping mouth away from his face when Lauren entered the doorway.
"Mommy stop!" she cried out. This drew Audra's attention to Lauren. She leapt towards her daughter. Lauren screamed for help and ran down the hall. Audra gave chase. Alan got to his feet and ran out into the hallway in enough time to see Audra catch Lauren in the living room and rip away at the side of her face.
"NO!" Alan shouted as he ran forward, shoving her away from his daughter. She lunged back at Alan as he was trying to scoop up Lauren. She cried heartbreaking tears, blood pouring through her fingers as she held them up to her face. Husband and wife struggled across the living room floor. When he had Audra pinned down, that's when Alan noticed it. The vacant look in his wife's eyes. She was staring at him, her eyes soulless and blank. She just kept trying to bite anywhere she could on his body. Her struggling made Alan pull away. She got back on top. Alan was on his back shoving his wife's face away from him when the first shot rang out, catching her in the shoulder and knocking Audra off. Alan quickly rolled over and looked back in the direction of the shot. A cop stood in the doorway, looking as shocked as Alan felt. Lauren screamed again as Audra got up and came at her again. Two more shots rang out. One caught her in the chest and the other, directly in the chin, sending his wife to the floor. She laid on the carpet, still and lifeless.
"I was tracking a murder suspect, heard the screaming," the stunned officer explained. He looked around. He didn't look like much more than a kid himself at that moment. "Jesus Christ! What is happening?"
"Help my daughter," Alan demanded as he got up and ran back to AJ's room. He stood over the crib heaving, sobbing, unable to move. Alan reached for AJ's remains and then turned away. He couldn't bring himself to look at his dead baby, let alone touch him. That would make it real. He stood, looking at his shoes, willing himself to wake up.
Alan snapped back when more screams filled the house. Lauren! He ran back into the hallway. The police officer had his pistol aimed at Lauren. With his other hand he was holding a giant gash in his neck. Blood was seeping between his fingers. She charged at the cop like a whisper. He opened fire.
The first shot missed. Alan screamed out. Lauren halted her charge. For a fraction of a second she turned face him. She was a blank, expressionless.
Alan's voice broke as he screamed. "No. no. n-." BAM. The bullet caught her directly above the ear. Lauren folded, hitting the floor beside her mom. That was it, in the span often minutes, his entire family was dead.
Alan looked at the officer. He flew into a complete rage.
"What the fuck did you do!?" It was almost a whisper.
"I had to! She did this!" the officer shouted back, still holding his bleeding neck. He went down on one knee. His pistol dropped and skidded across the floor.
"My family," Alan said, his voice rising as he stared at the cop.
"My family," he said again as he headed up the hallway.
The cop looked as if he was about to collapse.
"MY FAMILY!" Alan scream was almost intelligible.
Alan charged, at a full sprint now. He hit the cop like a spear. They both tumbled across the floor. The officer laid crumpled over, offering no resistance. Alan jumped to his feet and proceeded to stomp, stomp, and stomp again on the officer's face. He felt the bones give way under his bare foot. Alan's teeth were like fangs in his grimace. Words that were more sounds flew out with each stomp.
When he finished, Alan stood with his chest heaving, trying to comprehend what he had just done, when the bang of a door startled him.
Outside AJ's room stood Chloe, chewed up neck and all. The wound had stopped bleeding. She was still wearing her backpack, her yellow and purple polka dot dress was now black and crimson. Alan couldn't move, couldn't make a sound, as what used to be his daughter approached him. He simplyreached into the officer's belt and removed his baton. He walked up the hallway to meet her. What felt like fire burned from his eyes.
Without realizing it, Alan had stopped walking and was standing there, eyes closed tight. When Alan opened his eyes again, he was staring at a wood wall, painted red. It was peeling and looked in a state of disrepair. This must be the boathouse.
The visions, they happened again. When I am awake I see it, when I am asleep I see it. Will there ever be any relief? Alan rested his head against the wall and closed his eyes again. He took deep breaths. When he felt more composed, he walked up a few squeaking steps to the inside.
As Alan walked back out of the boathouse, he tripped. He continued on, paying what it was no mind. He was too lost in his thoughts again, remembering his many fishing trips as a scout leader, to notice what he had tripped over was a slightly opened trapdoor.
Except for the little dust up in the morning, everyone was in much better spirits during their first day at the cabin. JT figured that everyone else was feeling like he was. It felt good to be some place that at least seemed safe. He had forgotten how normal it felt to have a full belly and a clean change of clothes. To not be constantly on the run, looking over your shoulder. Thinking any minute could really be your last. Worse than that, the nightmare of spending eternity walking the world as a zombie.
After all the difficulties of the last month, it didn't really surprise him that later in the afternoon Hannah and Tyrone exclaimed to everyone they had planned a campfire for later that night. He could understand the need to blow off a little steam.
"It will be just like the bonfires we would have during Homecoming week," Tyrone said, pacing around the living room with barely contained energy. "We even have the beautiful cheerleaders."
JT still found himself bothered by all the times Tyrone, or anyone else for that matter,complemented Hannah. He knew it wasn't right; it wasn't like they were boyfriend/girlfriend. He didn't know if either of them would want that, the way things were now. That didn't change how he felt though. He would just keep it to himself for now.
"I just wanted us to enjoy our first real break," Hannah said, excited. "We can all sit down, relax, and act like real people. Maybe even have a little fun."
