Situation Z
Page 1
SITUATION Z
A. M. Semple
This book is a work of fiction. People, places, events and situations are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is purely coincidental.
©2016 A. M. Semple. All Rights Reserved
No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.
Published by Renata Press
Albuquerque, New Mexico
www.renatapress.com
ISBN: 978-1-937279-27-1
SITUATION Z
To George, Momma and Julia.
Your loving support helped me keep the dead alive.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 1
Wilson turned off of 24th and onto Clarendon in one of Phoenix’s older neighborhoods. The southwest style homes were weathered but cozy. Slowing, he pulled into the driveway of his simple, stucco home. Gravel sprayed in all directions as he stepped on the brake. A song about good times and guns making bad bedfellows was on the radio. He turned it up and sat listening until it finished. It had been a good sales month, and he’d gone on a little “spending spree” to celebrate his bonus. The back of his truck was filled with a few dozen MRE’s, several hundred rounds of .45 caliber ammunition and four jerry cans to store diesel fuel for his generator.
Wilson unloaded the truck and took an inventory of his new supplies before changing out of his shirt and tie and into a khaki T-shirt. It was a little snug, just the way he liked it. His five foot four frame was wiry, and he hoped the shirt accentuated his athletic build. He ran a hand over his copper red hair knowing it was too short to need brushing. He caught his reflection in the bathroom mirror. His green eyes narrowed on a whisker he’d missed shaving that morning. He took a razor to the offending hair, then changed into a pair of BDUs. He practically lived in the military style pants outside of work.
Feeling much more himself, he went in search of his favorite MRE, spaghetti and meatballs. Grabbing a beer, he dropped into an old leather recliner and clicked on the TV. The phone rang halfway through his meal. He was knee deep in a crime drama, but welcomed the interruption. He enjoyed talking to just about everyone, even telemarketers. He checked and saw the caller ID was blocked. Rather than be suspicious, he was intrigued as he picked up the phone. “This is Wilson.” He popped a meatball in his mouth, waiting for the voice on the other end.
“Wilson, you alone?”
It was his friend, Russell. The man was big on conspiracy theories and more than a little paranoid, but he was an incredible source of information. Wilson had made it into his inner circle which was quite an honor for anyone who knew Russell. “Hi, Russell.”
“Are you alone?”
He could hear the man’s impatience on the other end. “Oh, sorry, yes, I’m alone.”
“I haven’t much time. Something’s up with the hospitals.”
“Oh yeah? Talk to me.”
“We all have theories about what’s going on, but the most popular one is…”
There was a long pause. Wilson knew that Russell was glancing around in case someone should overhear. Of course they couldn’t since Russell lived all alone on a fifty-acre plot of land up in Prescott.
Russell’s voice grew hushed as he continued. “The popular theory is some new form of rabies. I personally don’t agree.”
Wilson set down his fork, completely captivated, waiting for Russell to continue.
“Jamie up in Flagstaff is dating an RN. She came off the night shift this morning upset. Said she wasn’t allowed to talk about it. Then she burst into tears and told Jamie everything. They got a transfer patient up from Phoenix. Shortly after arriving, the patient took a quick turn for the worse, then died. She said it was after they’d sent him down to the morgue that a doctor assisting in the autopsy was bit by him. That in itself is weird. Modern medicine at its best. I never did trust hospitals.”
Wilson refrained from saying that Russell didn’t trust anything and listened intently as the man continued.
“Anyway the area around the doctor’s bite got bad, and the doctor started losing it. Finally, at 0800 hours this morning, he died. That’s when she got off work. After hearing about this, I checked on the internet. There are dozens of stories just like it. Wilson, there’s also a video. Everyone says it’s a hoax, but it’s scarier than shit. I sent you a link. Erase my email when you’re done.”
Russell hung up, having said only what he needed. Wilson wasted no time logging onto his computer and clicking on the link. It was only one minute of security video taken in a hospital elevator. There was no audio. A couple of hospital workers were conversing on either side of a gurney. The patient appeared to be a woman though she had a sheet covering her face. She began to move, startling the workers. The moment one of them touched her, she grabbed him and bit him through his ear. When the other worker tried to pry him away from her, she turned and bit him on the hand. It took both of them to fight her off as the elevator doors opened, and they wheeled her out. That was it. Wilson frowned, then watched it again, mumbling to himself. “We were preparing for a Situation X. Never thought about a Situation Z.”
Chapter 2
Jennifer squeezed the teddy bear and set it on the seat next to her, adjusting its pink ribbon. Her friend just had her baby, and she was waiting to visit her. It was late and the hospital was fairly quiet almost cozy. She had gotten turned around a couple times but finally found coffee and a waiting area where she could drink it. She pulled the lid off and took a tentative sip, hoping it was just the right temperature. She smiled. This was good coffee. Glancing around, she spotted a newspaper. She was reaching for it when she heard voices getting loud somewhere down the hall. That was odd. She hoped everything was OK. Whatever was happening seemed to be getting closer. She placed the lid back on her coffee, grabbed the bear and stood. She looked down the hallway and saw a group of very agitated staff approaching. She started picking up fragments of conversation and finally full sentences.
“What do you mean?”
“I can’t believe this! I told you not to leave!”
“I’m sorry. I don’t know what could have happened!”
“Christ, what could have happened? He was dead!”
The group was rapidly approaching her. “Mam…mam have you seen anything out of the ordinary? Any patients being moved?”
Flustered Jennifer thought for a second. “Um…no.”
The group moved on at a near run.
Jennifer sat back down, inhaling deeply, shaking her head. That was very strange. Nervously, she glanced around. Everything seemed quiet, not quite as cozy any more. She had just taken the lid back off her coffee when a scream broke the silence. It came from the direction the staff had gone. Several more people arrived and ran toward the scream. Instead of calm descending, there was yelling. Jennifer stood wondering if there was something she should do. She was startled by a voice behind her.
“Mam, you need to leave this area immediately.”
>
She heard the words, but couldn’t take in what was happening. “I’m not sure.”
A security guard grabbed her arm and pulled her in the direction of the elevators. “Get in the elevator and leave.” He ran to rejoin several staff members, along with more security that had returned with the original group. She mashed the elevator button countless times. She couldn’t leave fast enough. There was more yelling and orders being shouted. Whatever was happening was getting worse. The closest staircase was in the direction of the yelling, so that was out.
After what felt like hours, there was the comforting ‘bing’ of the elevator arriving. The doors seemed to open in slow motion. As she started to enter the elevator, she gave a final glance down the hall and saw a man with a severed arm limping toward her. Shocked, she stood paralyzed, not sure if he needed help. Security ran behind him, shouting orders to her. “Leave, mam! Leave!”
Confused and terrified, Jennifer ducked into the elevator. She pressed the first floor button. As the doors slowly began to close, she watched the security guard tackle the injured man. Concerned, she stuck her hand between the doors and stepped back out of the elevator. “What are you doing?” she yelled.
“Stay back, mam! Leave! Now!”
The man below him was groaning and twisting violently.
“You’re hurting him.”
“Him is trying to bite me. He’s diseased.”
She looked at the other man’s face. It was grayish blue. His eyes were vacant and glazed over. As the guard had stated, he appeared to be trying to bite him. There was more shouting, and Jennifer glanced back to see a group of people approaching.
“Get out while you can,” the guard yelled.
She got back in the elevator, mashed the button and watched as the doors started to slide close.
The guard glanced back at the group. Some of them had been bitten. “Wait for me.” He sprung to his feet and jumped in the elevator. The man he had tackled tried to follow, and the guard punched him. The doors closed again, and they descended to the first floor.
Chapter 3
Wilson woke up early and was checking the headlines. The phone rang. He knew who it was before he picked it up. “Talk to me, Russell.”
“This is it.” Russell hung up the phone.
Wilson began systematically turning things off and putting last minute items by the door. He hadn’t wanted to alarm his neighbor, Mrs. Grey, but knew he couldn’t put it off any longer. She’d been under a lot of stress lately with her husband in the hospital. But for that very reason he felt it best to let her know what was happening.
He cracked the blinds, looking out at the neighborhood. It looked quiet, but he still grabbed his Desert Eagle .45, putting it in his holster. Far more fire power than he would probably need but better safe than sorry. He slipped out the back door and across the Grey’s yard. Her car was in the driveway. That was a good sign.
He knocked quietly. “Mrs. Grey, it’s Wilson…Mrs. Grey.” He knocked a little louder, leaning back and forth hoping to see through a window. He tried the door. It wasn’t locked. He inched it open. “Mrs. Grey, it’s Wilson.”
He slipped inside. It was dark. All the blinds were drawn. It took a minute for his eyes to adjust. There was a strong smell, kind of sweet, but not in a good way. “Mrs. Grey, it’s Wilson.”
A loud thump came from the next room. Wilson felt an odd tingling on the back of his neck. He unfastened the .45 from its holster and flicked off the safety. Another ominous thump broke the silence. He tiptoed in the direction of the noise. It was coming from what looked like a back bedroom. As he got closer, the smell got stronger. He tried the door. The handle turned, but something or someone was up against it. Wilson leaned in and pushed as hard as he could. The door slid open. Mrs. Grey was lying on the floor; her body was at an unnatural angle with her legs. Startled, he holstered his gun. He was about to lean down when she reached out with both hands and grabbed his leg. As he started to pull away, his pant leg lifted, exposing part of his leg. She leaned forward and bit him hard. As he yanked himself free, he looked into her eyes. They were glazed over and vacant. “Holy shit.” He made a hasty retreat, slamming the door behind him. She was one of them. Blood was soaking into his pant leg, and it looked like he wasn’t far behind.
He left the Grey’s, ran across the lawns, threw open his door and slammed it shut. He rolled up his pant leg and examined the wound. There was a decent amount of blood and a full set of teeth marks. Thankfully, he knew his first aid and had the bite cleaned and dressed within minutes. He grabbed his phone and dialed.
“Russell, I’ve been bit. I’m going to lay low in case I turn.”
There was stunned silence on the other end. “You went and checked on your neighbor, didn’t you? Damn it, Wilson…how bad is it? She didn’t take a chunk out of you, did she?”
Wilson sniffed. “Not so bad that I could make a set of dentures, but I can tell which teeth are crooked. I don’t think I’ll be going anywhere for a while. Russell, does everybody turn?”
The brief silence on the other end had Wilson on the edge of his seat. “Well?”
“It’s too early to say, isn’t it?”
Wilson let out a breath. “I suppose so.”
“How do you feel, buddy?”
Wilson pursed his lips. “I feel pretty good.”
“Check your temperature.”
“It’s normal. I checked it as soon as I got bit.”
“Check it again…OK?”
He checked. “It’s still normal.”
“Check the area around the bite. Is it changing color?”
He peaked under the bandage. “The skin around it is none too happy and red, about what you’d expect from a normal bite. “
“Hmm…that’s good.”
“Well I’m not going anywhere till we find out.” Wilson was quiet for a minute. “Thanks, Russell.”
“You’re welcome. Now that we have lots of time, tell me what’d she look like?”
“She was scarier than shit. Her eyes were glazed, and she had my blood dripping from her mouth. Let’s just say I wasn’t going to stand around taking pictures.”
They talked survival techniques for hours with the news turned on in the background. The world was about to go to hell around them, and ironically, at the moment, neither of them was doing anything about it. Wilson periodically checked his wound and his temperature, but nothing changed.
Chapter 4
Marjorie put on her smock and stuffed her purse in her locker. She grabbed a pen and paper and checked out the week’s schedule. She had four evenings and two day shifts. She’d been working at the small town’s one and only grocery store for four years, but it felt like a lifetime.
John from stocking stood beside her and snickered. “Looks like your weekend’s shot. They got you working Friday and Saturday night, then early Sunday morning.”
She looked at his hours and laughed. “We have the same hours.”
He raised his eyebrows at her. “I know, what do you think about that?”
“I think you are a hopeless flirt, and your wife…”
There was a scream out front. They looked at each other, then ran out. An elderly gentlemen had Kelly cornered at her register.
John stopped short. “Just some old dude throwing a fit. Probably didn’t like the price of his canned peas. Look, he’s trying to grab Kelly. Actually, can’t say as I blame him.”
Kelly turned and shouted. “Dammit, are you two just going to stand there gawking? Call the police.”
John turned to Marjorie. “You call the police, Marj. I’ll give Princess Kelly a hand.”
While John was approaching, the man lunged and grabbed Kelly’s wrist with an iron grip, pulling her toward him. He bent and bit her arm, tearing the flesh. She screamed, then slumped to the floor. Now panicked, John rushed forward, grabbing the man’s shoulders. John was startled when the man turned his vacant, gray eyes on him, blood dripping from his mouth. Before John c
ould respond, the man leaned and bit the hand that was grasping his shoulder. John hadn’t expected the pain and yelled while trying to pry his hand away. “Let go, you crazed vermin. Let go, Christ…”
Marjorie rushed back, helping pull the man off of John. They wrestled him to the floor. He was face down and trying to get up. Finally, they had Marjorie sit on him. “The emergency number was busy,” she said.
“What?” John screeched while holding his injured hand. “Did you dial right?”
She nodded. “Both the emergency and the non-emergency. Frank’s coming, and he’s calling Todd.” She stared at Kelly’s arm and then at John’s hand. “Maybe you better get the first aid kit.”
“Huh?”
“Do you know where the first aid kit is?”
“Yeah…no.”
“You sit on him, and I’ll get it.”
“Don’t go. I’ll get it.”
Kelly was coming round, and the man under Marjorie was squirming violently. Marjorie wished with all her being that she hadn’t come in today.
John and Frank came back as Kelly woke and started screaming, a sizeable bite had been taken from her arm. John spilled the contents of the first aid kit on the floor, grabbing bandages. Frank grabbed the largest ones and some swabs for Kelly. She appeared to be lightheaded, leaning heavily against him.
The crazed man was getting more agitated under Marjorie. “John, help me.”
John grabbed a nearby twelve pack of soda and smashed it against the guy’s head with little affect. “Christ, I wish he’d just die. I need something heavier.”
“John, just help me hold him down,” Marjorie pleaded.
John sat down hard next to her. “Can you help me with my hand?” His voice was that of a stranger. He was completely out of it.
“Of course, John.” Marjorie reached for a bandage on the floor. “Let me see it.” She took one look at the bite, and thought she would be sick. “It’s really not that bad.” It was surreal sharing a seat with him on an elderly man while bandaging a wound. She gingerly pulled something out of his palm.