The Turning

by Thomas Key

  Chapter Eight

  We packed what little possessions that we had. Sargent Dail had graciously allowed us to fill up on ammunition for all of our weapons. He also let us requisition two Humvees for the occasion. I’m sure that it had more to do with having more vehicles than they needed and less to do with his feeling that the mission would be anything more than a complete failure. Frankly, I didn’t care as long as we got what we needed. He wasn’t willing to part with the gun-mounted Humvees, but the unarmed ones would be fine for this outing. Ashmore, Atencio and Jaylin all showed up and began stowing equipment. “Hi,” I said, waving. They threw bag after bag into the vehicle. “You’re taking all of that?” I asked, a bit bewildered at the sheer amount of stuff filling the truck. “Yes, don’t be a dumbass,” Ashmore said as she too threw her three pack into the first Humvee. “Wow thanks,” I told her as I felt a mix of emotions range through my body, the mix ended with sarcasm. Rachel chimed in with a less than enthusiastic “yay.” That, of course, caused me to grin. It was then that I realized that I’d be in the lead Humvee with not one but three women. Three of which could turn hostile at any moment. Any man that has ever been in this type of situation knows exactly what I’m talking about. Where any wrong move, wrong breath even could spark a complete riot. I was going to tread as lightly as possible for this whole damn adventure. In the next Humvee were Jaylin, Isabel and Ken. I saw him grimace as he saw the women all pile into my vehicle. With pleading eyes, I waved to him and got into my driver seat. I sighed quietly, as I knew I was about to embark on a long ass ride. Rachel ‘accidentally’ nudged me with her elbow while moving a bag around. “Oh, I’m sorry,” she said oh so sweetly. I knew better though. I was already failing at my attempt to avoid the wrath of the ladies in the vehicle. We slowly pulled out of the gate and headed west, in the direction of Albuquerque, New Mexico. We were going to attempt to make it there with all haste and check on the kiddos. If they were surviving, we were going to relocate them back to Cannon AFB. Albuquerque had once been a growing city of a little over half of a million residents. With a growing nightlife, a huge variety of new craft breweries and restaurants, it was becoming a great place to live. Since the fall though, it was sitting in ruins just like every other city pretty much anywhere in the world. We followed US Route 60, heading away from the base. It would be about 55 miles until the first turn which would lead us through Fort Sumner, New Mexico. From there, we would take US-84 and then turn into Interstate 40. From there, it should be relatively smooth sailing back to Albuquerque, or so I hoped. For most of the trip, it was easy going. We saw the sights, and the smells of the glorious countryside. We had the good graces of having all of our windows down when we passed by what had once been a cattle farm that stretched for what seemed like forever. Have you ever had an odor just invade your vehicle all of a sudden, and no matter what you did to get rid of it, it stayed in your car for what seemed like an eternity? That was this kind of smell. Rotting half eaten cattle lay sprawled out as far as we could see on one side of the road. Even with the windows rolled up, we still continued to die a little bit inside as we finally pulled away from the farm. After driving several miles away, I pulled over, letting everyone get some fresh air. We rolled down the windows so that we could air out the vehicles as well.

  “That was fun!” Ken yelled to me from his Humvee. I looked back and saw him sticking his head out the driver side window. I couldn’t help but laugh, the picture of a dog driving with its head out of the window popped into my head. He naturally didn’t get the joke so he pulled his head back in. Once everyone was piled back into the vehicles, we began to move again. It wasn’t long before we came upon the signs for Fort Sumner. The mostly rural area began to give way to the occasional commercial building. A tractor company here, a tire shop there. The first big business that we came upon was the Motel 8. “What I wouldn’t give to sleep in one of those rooms,” Atencio whispered, I think to herself, but it was loud enough for us all to hear it. As we came up to the actual building, however, we could see that it was gutted. Half of the building was burnt down. The remaining half was open and exposed to the elements. “I doubt that they’d have acceptable accommodations right now. You’re welcome to try though. Maybe they’ll give you a discount,” I told her quietly. A small chuckle arose from the other occupants of the car. The hotel had had a full parking lot of cars. All of which would probably never be driven again. One of the cars stuck out, what had once been a beautiful fire engine red Tesla was parked in the group. A forgotten longing came over me as I watched that one car as we passed by. It had been my dream car, to own one of those. The full package, of course, the ability to have it drive autonomously. Those were the days, I thought as it disappeared from the rearview mirror. The Billy the Kid museum passed by shortly after. Odds are the relics would be there forever, never to be uncovered. As long as that building too didn’t burn anyway. Future generations, assuming that we survived long enough to procreate enough to have future generations, could visit that place, hopefully. Another thought crossed my mind at just how much world history had been lost in just the past few months. The countless other museums, art galleries, libraries that no doubt had been destroyed by nature or by arson. I shook my head quickly to dispel those thoughts. I couldn’t allow myself to fall down that hole of despair, thinking about the past and what we've lost. We have to focus instead on what we’re going to build, the books that we’re going to write, the music and the architecture that will be this new generation’s heritage. My thoughts had completely filled up my mind and it wasn't until I heard Rachel yelling in my ear that I snapped out of it. Ahead, a pile up of cars lay directly in our path and we were barreling towards them at high speed. Which is relative for those that have actually been in a Humvee and know they are by no means sports cars. Still, I stepped on the brakes, feeling someone smash into the back of my seat as I did so. Smoke erupted from our tires as they squealed, attempting to come to a halt. Kenneth had a much quicker reaction time and was slowing much more efficiently than I was. We tenderly kissed the leading car with our bumper and came to a stop. I turned to the women who were all disheveled in one way or another. All eyes slowly met mine and I saw what could only be described as a life-ending explosion of fiery anger coming my way. I did the only manly thing available to me and vacated the vehicle as quickly as physically possible.

  I surveyed the mess in front of us. Cars, trucks, semis were tangled up in each other for at least a block. “This is nice,” I said out loud as I looked over the vehicles. I heard the doors behind me open and close as the other occupants got out and were also looking at the pile up. I heard some light chatter from behind me and then footsteps as someone walked up behind me. “Whoa,” I heard from my right. I glanced over, Ashmore was there. “What?” I asked her. She pointed towards the middle of the group of cars. “I thought I saw something move,” she said, staring intently at the spot that her finger was now guiding my eyes to. As we both stared, I did see something, but only for a split second. As I looked on, something else moved three cars away and just inside the corner of my peripheral, I saw what looked like the top of a bald head pop up for just a moment then dip back down. “Uh oh,” I said quietly, slowly backing up towards our vehicle. I think Ashmore caught sight of something as well, as she too was stepping back. “Hey guys…” she said, trying to get the other attendees’ attention. I grabbed my rifle, and pulled it up to my shoulder. I had just enough time to raise it when the first of a terribly fast infected bounded over the lead car and headed straight for me. I flicked the safety to semi-automatic and fired two rounds, one into its chest and one into its head. The bullets caused the body’s trajectory to change midflight, sending it just to the left of me. The now lifeless body landed onto the hood of my Humvee. I heard other rounds going off around me as the cars became alive with infected, like a previously hidden wasps’ nest. These infected were unusually fast, running back and forth and climbing over cars in their way to get to us. They were doing a rema
rkable job of avoiding our projectiles, swerving back and forth every few steps. Don’t let anyone ever tell you that hitting a moving target is easy. It’s not. I saw Ashmore go down to my right, an infected grasping for her. Atencio wound up a kick and with the steel toe of her boot, kicked it directly in the head, sending it flying backwards with an impressive indent in its face where its nose used to be. I fired three rounds, taking out another that was trying to get at the two women from the right side. I turned back at the pack in front and saw one loping at me. I sent two more rounds flying, but both impacted its shoulder. While I could see it visibly recoil, it sure as shit did not stop it in its tracks. Just as it reached me, I moved to the side, trying to avoid the creature. It half worked. It reached out with its arm and pulled me towards it as it fell forward, successfully bringing me to the ground. I punched it repeatedly in the head, but to no avail. I screamed in agony as I felt intense pain as its teeth bit into my arm. Blood visibly fell from the mouth of the infected as I was finally able to pull my knife up and plunged it into its eye socket. It went limp on top of me. “Shepherd!” I heard from a ways back, most likely Rachel having heard me go down. “Oh fuck oh fuck,” I said to myself as I pulled the infected off of me and stared down at my bleeding wound. At that moment, the entire world stopped. My eyes traced over each inch of broken skin; the tooth marks plainly visible. “I’m infected,” I whispered to myself. Tears formed in my eyes as I realized that I was going to die, and not only that but in the absolute worst way. Turning into one of those things was a horrific way to die. It would start with a fever, then a sharp pain in my gut, to the point where it would feel like I had a glass ball with spikes inside my stomach. It would be excruciating. Shortly after, the fever would come back in full force and boil what was left of my brain as I lay unable to do a thing about it. Then I’d turn, into one of those walking nightmares. Would my soul be trapped in that body? Or would I be able to go to the gates once the real me stopped breathing? The world began to speed back up as I heard the sound of gunfire dissipate and knew that the crew would be helping me up in no time. I stood and bolted for the Humvee beside me, sitting down in the driver seat and pulling a medical kit from the passenger floorboard. I quickly dressed the wound, covering the bloody wound as best that I could. I pulled the sleeve down on my fatigue top, covering the bite wound with it, and pulled my other arm sleeve down to match. “Is everyone okay?” I heard Ashmore shout from the back side of the Humvee. “Everyone sound off!” Rachel shouted. One by one I heard everyone do so. When I was the only one that did not, I heard Rachel yell again for me. She was coming for me fast. “I’m okay!” I shouted out of the open door, a lump beginning to form in my throat. What had been feet pounding turned back to the sound of feet walking as they approached. I stood up, vacated the vehicle and proceeded to throw up what little I had eaten that morning. “Are you okay?” Rachel asked as she finally located me. “Yeah,” I told her as I spit out some more bile. “The fucker got too close for comfort is all,” I told her as she looked down at the corpse below us. “Yeah, no kidding,” she said, pulling the knife from its eye. She wiped it off on the infected’s shirt and handed it back to me. I grabbed it with my right arm, making sure to keep my left arm looking as natural as possible. I placed it back its scabbard. She went from looking at the infected at my feet to the dozen or so around my Humvee. “That was really close,” she said to me as she surveyed the bodies. “We should go before more show up,” I told her, briskly standing and reentering the Humvee. I opened the door and jumped in, pulling my rifle up and pulling the magazine from it. I had had one round left in the rifle. For a moment, I thought long and hard about just putting it to my chin and pulling the trigger. Instead, I ejected the almost empty magazine, placing it in my pack and fished out another full one. I placed it in the rifle and pulled the charging handle, readying the weapon for the next encounter which I knew was sure to come. Doors began to open and close around me. I just sat in the driver’s seat, staring straight ahead. “Are you alright?” she asked me quietly as I felt a hand on my right arm. I couldn’t help it, I flinched, feeling fear of her touching me well up in just a moment's time. She recoiled, pulling her hand away. I looked at her, into those gorgeous eyes and as I stared into them, I made the decision. I would not tell her about the bite. At least not yet. She would immediately make us go back to base and what would they do? They’d probably stop me at the gate and have me shot. If not, they’d run all kinds of tests and use me like some lab rat. That is not what I wanted for myself now. I was going to fulfill this mission to the best of my ability. When the time came, I’d tell her, and I’d pull the trigger so no one else would have to bear the guilt of it. I’d handle it. I looked away, back out to the small sea of cars. “Sorry. I’m just a bit shaken up,” I told her as I pulled the Humvee into gear. I don’t think she bought it but she didn’t ask me again. We were able to find a way around the mess of cars, through a row of front yards with very flimsy fences. In short order, we were back on the road. What a way to spend my last few days in life. Then again, I thought to myself, isn't saving others worthy of such time spent? To me, this trip meant the ultimate sacrifice. I was going to save those kids and anyone else that I could, even if it killed me.

  Chapter Nine: Atencio’s Story

  We continued on our planned path. I knew this trip would take hours, even in pre-zombapoc, it would have been one of those car rides that a majority of parents would despise taking with their kids. The ones where there isn't a lot of scenery along the way and the kids get bored way too quickly. Unless they have technology at their fingertips the whole ride, they'd be at each other’s throats in no time. Although I enjoyed peace and quiet as much as the next guy, I decided to strike up a conversation as we drove on, trying desperately to get my mind off of my upcoming death. “So Atencio, what’s your story?” I asked her, pulling everyone out of their own thoughts. For a moment, I thought that she was perhaps asleep, as there was no response to my inquiry. After a few minutes though, she spoke up. “What do you mean?” she asked frankly. “I meant, where are you from? What did you do before? All of that jazz?” I asked her. Another few minutes went by in silence. I thought for sure that she wasn’t going to answer and was about to give up and resort to debating where was the best place to shoot myself to minimize the risk of me surviving and becoming a walking enemy of humanity. “I was born in Albuquerque, and I’m twenty years old,” she said. I personally thought that was a weird choice to start it off with but who am I to judge.” She continued on, “My life growing up was like everyone else's I guess. Maybe not though, because my family was all pure New Mexican. My entire family was born and raised here and like any true New Mexican family, we always kept an entire freezer in our garage fully stocked with different strains of green and red chili. We had cans of the stuff and my family made their own sauces.” “No shit?” I asked her, glancing back at her. My mouth was starting to water at the thought of it. Anyone who had never experienced New Mexican culture before the fall missed out big time, I thought to myself as I turned back and looked out the windshield. Nothing was better than sitting down at a local Mexican restaurant, ordering Huevos Rancheros, with Christmas. Not sure what that is? Then your bucket list missed out before the zombapoc, and I am so fricken sorry. “No shit,” she said, interrupting my inner diatribe. Another few moments went by, maybe so she could muster her thoughts. “I grew up towards the higher-end of the income level. I know I had it better than most kids my age. The best schools, a phone really early on, and I never truly went without. Once I got old enough to start working, I realized just how shitty life was for most people. I took so much for granted. I used to not even give a poor person a second glance. Now, here we are. All of us, rich or poor only by our own definitions.” “I think what he was actually asking was more like where you were when the world stopped as opposed to your entire life story,” Ashmore said from beside her. “Oh,” Atencio said, realizing just how much more sense that made. “No, it’s f
ine. Continue please, you’re helping keep me awake,” I told her quickly, reassuring her. “Okay well. I’ll fast forward a bit,” she said, taking a few more minutes. Rachel in the passenger seat had apparently fallen asleep. Lucky woman, I thought as I watched her head roll from side to side with movement of the vehicle. Damn, she was beautiful. “I was working at an ice cream place when it all went down,” she said. Fuck, now she was talking about ice cream. I felt my stomach rumble as I patted it with my left hand, as if to say calm down there buddy. “I was one of those preppy girls that all of their friends drop by for free ice cream. The company could afford it and I was their best employee after all,” she said. I saw Ashmore visibly roll her eyes as she looked out of the passenger side window. A grin came across my face as I continued to listen, but the grin was unfortunately short-lived. “You’d think with all of that money, we would have been more prepared,” she said, shaking her head. “We didn’t have bars on our windows or barbed wire on our fences. Those kinds of things just didn’t add property value,” she said with a hint of disgust. “When they came, we had no real weapons either. They broke in all over the house. I could hear them all through the house, knocking things over, destroying whatever was in their path. My family and I ran upstairs and tried to hide. It didn’t last though. I don’t know if they smelled us or just happened upon us. Eventually, they figured out where we were. We were in my parent’s room in the second floor. They began banging on the door, the hinges shaking with every strike. My father had us go to the window of the bedroom. It was almost a sheer drop, with nothing but a small set of bushes to break our fall. It was just me, my mom and my dad. He was lowering me down using a sheet when the zombies finally broke through the door. I heard my mom scream and felt myself begin to fall. I hit the ground hard, my dad having let completely go of the sheet. I looked up and saw my mom trying to get out of the window. I heard my dad fighting to hold them off as she did. I heard him scream and saw her as she let go from the window seal. At the last possible moment, an arm reached out and grabbed her. Then another, and another. They had her by the shirt and the arm. I don’t know how many of them there were. They pulled her back in, as she screamed and fought with every ounce of her being. It didn’t help. She yelled for me to run before they bit into her.” Her voice was shaking now, as if watching the whole event unfold in her mind. The memories being conjured up like a horror movie. “So, I ran. I ended up finding a group of soldiers on their way here to Cannon and hitched a ride. I joined the first chance that I got. Anything that I could do to kill as many of those fuckers as possible,” she said, a look of determination now etched on her face. “I’m sorry,” I told her genuinely. “We all have our burdens to bear,” she said, and went back to looking out of the hummer’s driver side window.