The Event Series (Book 1): Life After the Meteor

by Thomas Larson

  In the scuffle, Arnold bit Chief McCoy on the arm. It seemed that they shot him center mass rather than in the head under the mistaken belief that it would kill or stop him. Somehow they forced him into the cell and then locked him in. They finished the initial report and then the Chief started to not feel well. They decided that the prisoner could be dealt with later and it was best to get the Chief up to the lake area for some medical help at Doc Swenson’s, the local physician and head of the health department.

  The report had been completed on the 2nd of March. That was two days ago and it appears that they did not come back. This was not good. The lake folks may have been taken by surprise when McCoy “changed” and the infection began to spread. By this time the entire lake could have been infected and turned.

  I looked around a little more and found there was a police radio in the office. I turned it on and tried it to see if anyone would answer. There was no answer. I looked around a little more and found a few weapons and ammunition tucked into a gun closet, but that was it. It was time to go, but before walking out I reduced the Zom population by one.

  It was a quiet walk back to shop. Anne was sick along the way and I can’t say I blame her. But I was thinking, we are safe for now, but we could have a hive of infected about 5 miles west of us and we need to make certain that it stays that way. We need to keep a low profile and be vigilant. The shop was a glowing beacon with the generator running and a flurry of activity. This was not a bad thing right now in the daylight, but we would need to tone it down when it got dark.

  We got back into our little building and something smelled fantastic. I guess those cooking classes that Nick had taken over the years had done wonders. But then he had always had a little flair for the culinary arts. From items he had been able to scrounge from a nearby store and mixed with some of our canned goods created a kind of casserole of rice, carrots, onions, spices and Spam. I know it sounds rather bad, but it was hot, and quite tasty.

  As we had a sort of brunch, Anne (she passed on eating) and I filled everyone in on what we had found in the town hall. This not only included that information about the infected inside the cell, but also what might have happened at the lake.

  After eating we started going through the e-mails that we had brought back from the health department to see if there was anything helpful. Basically it was pretty obvious stuff. The best guess was that the malady had come from the dust of the meteor; it contaminated the area in western Russia and because of the prevailing winds blew it east toward Asia. Some of the infected people had boarded planes and flown to airports all over the world not realizing what was going on or that they were infected. The travelers began to turn and the illness just went viral from there. The e-mails had some suggestions for containment but nothing that could help us or that we had not already heard on the news.

  The weather was still bad; the snow was still coming down. We were not going anywhere for a while so we settled in the best we could. We took time to go through our vehicles, changing oil, adding defensive shielding, re-arranging the loads and getting them ready to roll if we had to make an escape. In the garage it was warm and it seemed safe. But that did not stop us from keeping someone on watch over night. We each would take a 2 hour shift.

  March 5th, (Teckla’s Birthday)

  I did not realize until I laid down how tired I really was. I usually cannot fall asleep quickly if there is something going on or I know I have to wake up. But I was out like a light in about five minutes. The dream came back. It was the same murky character, but this time it was closer, and now it was menacing. I could not tell who or what it was other than man shaped.

  Margo woke me. It was dark except for the little glow from the wood stove in the corner. She seemed excited. I asked if it was time for my watch and she said no, but there was someone on the police radio that I had taken from town hall and handed it to me. I heard a click, and then a whisper. I turned it up all the way and spoke softly, “Hello?”

  I heard a male voice say “This is Fred, there are eight of us up at the camp by the lake. We’re in small house and trapped there.” He went on “Everyone else has turned to monsters over the last couple of days. It seems that the monsters could not deal with the cold or snow and were just sort of standing. But I’m not sure how long we can hold out once the weather breaks. Help us, Please!”

  By now everyone was awake and we were all huddled around the table that we had set up in the middle of the big garage area. I was talking with Fred and asked what his status was on weapons and supplies. Their weapon situation was not terrible. He said they had several handguns, a shotgun and some bats and pipes. He had enough food for a couple of days but that was it. I asked about cars. He said that they had an SUV and a 4x4 pick-up outside. But they were not going to be able to get to them easily because the creatures would be on them if they went out. He also said that there was about 12 inches of snow outside the house so they did not think they could get far down the road. I told him to sit tight (yeah kind of dumb considering), we needed some time to think on our end and told him to radio in about 30 minutes.

  We began to look at the maps. The lake (Danbee) was about 5 miles away with a paved road from the center of town out to where they were. We discussed options. There were some who felt that we couldn’t do anything for them. One felt we shouldn’t do anything for them. But the bulk of the group felt we had to at least try. The odds were very much against them, eight people versus who knows how many infected or as Frank named them, Zoms. The downside was that we had an up-hill battle, literally to get to the lake. I looked over at Frank; he was staring out the back of the shop.

  “It is going to be a bitch, but it might work.” He said

  He explained, “There is a dump truck outback, it is the town snowplow. Assuming it starts, we could make a run, plow the road, get up to them and have them follow us out. If, as they said the Zoms were frozen, there would be minimal risk.”

  The first thing that we needed to do, if we were going to even consider the attempt was to see if the truck would start, and if it was drivable. Frank and Matt dressed and headed out to see what they could do. A couple of us also kept an eye on the area around the truck to cover their approach and efforts.

  The truck would not start, the battery was dead. That slowed our efforts down, but there were several new batteries in the shop, so replacing the batteries, the truck had two, was the easy fix. Anne’s dad was getting dressed into warm clothing to help and his intentions were good. But we had to get him to stand down on that one as he would be a bigger liability than an asset.

  While Frank and Matt were changing the batteries Fred radioed in. I told him what we were thinking and that we were still trying to get the plow up and running. I asked “Have any of the frozen Zoms moved?”

  At first he was confused by the term, but then said “The monsters? No they haven’t”.

  Cold or not, with the noise and lights from the plow I was not sure whether the Zoms would become active. I told Fred “Monitor the radio because if we get the truck running we are coming for you.”

  Originally I felt that keeping the radios off and saving the batteries was a good idea. But if this plan did not work, well, the radios would not help much and I don’t think I would want to hear the pleas for help as they were overrun.

  After I signed off I heard the roar of the diesel engine, the truck was running. I heard the warning beeper as it backed up and then saw the lights. But rather than just pull up to the door Frank began to plow the parking lot. At first I was confused about what he was doing, and then it made sense. He was building a barrier around the building that would slow or stop any Zoms. Matt had also gotten a small bucket loader started and was adding to the snow piles.

  I radioed back to Fred that we had gotten the truck up and running and that we would be coming for them shortly. I could hear the relief in his voice. While we were waiting for Frank and Matt to come back in I began to ask Fred about who was up there with him. He
told me that there were eight people including him. Perhaps it was the old Hostage Negotiator in me trying to keep him busy I asked him about himself. He told me that he was a 22 year old college kid from up-state New York who had been on Spring Break and was visiting his brother. He told me he was an animal science major. He said that his brother had not made it and was taken down two days ago in the initial attack. In the back of my mind it fit with the incident involving the police chief getting bitten by Arnold. Fred was starting to get a little emotional thinking about his brother so I tried to get his mind off of him by asking about the other people trapped with him.

  He told me about the seven others with him. Ron Backland was a construction worker who had been in the military. Fred said that Ron had told him that he had been in Iraq for a couple of tours. Ron was a local and was kind of scary because he wanted to take out some of the “Changed”.

  “We call them Zoms” I said.

  Then there was Burt and Mary-Lou, a married couple, he was in his 70s, she in her late 40s. She seemed okay, but Burt was kind of a know-it-all asshole. Fred said that they had a school nurse with them, Charlene who was old, in her 50s. She seemed okay with the situation, not freaking out or anything. She hung out with an older guy Henry who was the local farmer. And finally there were the two younger guys, Cody, a junior in High school; and Lance, a steam punk nerd kid.

  Frank came in and gave the thumbs up on the truck. It was set and running fine. I radioed Fred and told him that the cavalry was going to be on the way shortly. But we needed to know exactly where he was so we did not waste time or effort in the rescue. He gave us the street address and we looked at the map. It looked like a pretty straight shot taking State Route 143 west out of town. About 4 miles out there was a left turn into a driveway for Camp Danbee. Once in the camp there was a large building on the right. That was the one with a large group of Zoms. Then as you continued down the road a little further there were three smaller cottages on the left. Fred said that his group was in the third one with Ron’s Truck and an SUV parked out in front.

  It was a dead end at the furthest point out by the lake. Frank and Matt were the only ones who could drive the plow, so they drew the short straw and Frank won, or lost, whichever way you wanted to look at it. Matt suggested that he follow the plow in the bucket loader. Mark offered to ride shotgun with Frank. I was not going to step in on this. They were the right people with the right plan.

  I turned the radio over to Mark and he told Fred that they were heading up. Mark suggested that they try to dig out their trucks. And then the plow and bucket loader were off. As they pulled out of the gap left in the parking lot snow fort they did not drop their plows. At first this seemed odd.

  The rest of us were just going to have to sit and wait. Margo manned the public works radio and we were in communications with the rescue team. Mark radioed they had left the snow as untouched as possible except for tire tracks in a hope that it would not make an easy path for the Zoms should some of them try to follow the plowed trail back. I felt a little better about the situation being able to talk with them. I could tell that this rescue mission was real hard on Teckla. She had her two boys and her man running it.

  We listened as the plow proceeded toward the camp. They were going a little slower than I thought because it was an uphill grade. But finally Mark announced that they were turning onto the camp road. Mark confirmed that the Zoms seemed inactive.

  In what seemed a long time they had reached the last cottage on the left. Mark said that SUV and truck were running and they were loaded and waiting for the plow, ready to roll. When Frank plowed in front of the trucks there was a little pile of snow left that could have hung up the trucks so Matt used the bucket loader to clear it out. It took a little time and with all the noise and lights Mark noticed that a couple of the Zoms who were standing close to the newly plowed path that seemed to be becoming active or at least looking around.

  Frank got the plow turned around and started to lead the group out. Where he could, he tried to knock down and plow any of the Zoms that were an easy target. He may have gotten about ten by the time he reached the big building. As he passed it, the SUV followed close, but the pick-up truck suddenly stopped. Fred and Ron hopped out of the truck. They each had a couple of gasoline bombs. Ron lit them up and they tossed them at the big building. The throws hit their target and exploded. The fires covered the road side of the building.

  The Zoms outside also seemed to react to the light and began swaying and trying to walk in the deep snow. Ron, who had thrown the first bottle raced back to the truck and jumped in the driver side. Fred, who had gotten a little closer to the building finished throwing his and ran back to the truck. As he come around the back of the truck he slipped and fell, but he was up quickly and into the truck. They took off with Matt following behind in the bucket loader. They left the camp and about 15 minutes later were all back at the parking lot. The group piled out of the trucks and came into the garage. Matt and Frank parked their plows at the entry of the snow fort they had made to act as a gate as well as being ready if we needed to get out in a hurry.

  I greeted Fred, and he looked like the type of person who would have been a Vet doctor or zoo employee, sandy haired and innocent. He introduced us to his group. Each was pretty much as he had described. First was Ron who had that hungry look of a wolf on the hunt. Burt, about 70, looked like he had been sucking lemons while Mary-Lou his younger wife just looked frightened. In her day Charlene was a hottie, she still looked good for an older woman, the term cougar came to mind. Cody seemed to by the typical high schooler, zits and all, while Lance had a certain nerdy look about him that I could not explain but he definitely was a loner. Henry, I knew I would like Henry, he was happy to be alive and happy to be saved. There was just something infectious about his grin.

  Nick had heated up some of his Spam and rice dish that we had been served for dinner. For the rescued people, it was a welcome hot meal after a couple of days of granola bars and cold cereal. For the moment we all just enjoyed the company and the conversations. Each side of the group, ours, and Fred’s relayed the adventures since the beginning of The Event.

  I know that our group had not really had any opportunity to just release some of the stress, although we had been safe, relaxed was not the way any of us felt. The stories and chance to share was therapeutic. We knew that there was a lot of bad stuff out there and we were soon going to see some of it. But we had some time and the weather was our friend at the moment. But when the cold and snow disappeared things would change.

  I was sitting in the corner, alone, as they others talked and laughed. I was thinking about Peru, it was a place that could be somewhere we might be able to stay. We might be able to make it here. But the fact that there were still a lot of Zoms about five miles up the road made me a little doubtful as to how well we would fare come the summer. But whatever the case this situation was most likely only temporary and we needed to start thinking about what to do next. We needed to have plans in place for some likely eventualities. Sadly, being the cynic that I am I felt that those eventualities would include dealing with the living uninfected as we made contact with other nomadic groups. We also had to face the eventuality that one of us might be infected and how we would deal with that.

  I laughed to myself thinking back to a trip I had made to Iceland years ago. Actually, that would be a pretty good place to survive this ordeal, but not a place that we could get to. But I remembered the T-Shirt I brought back for Anne. It had a nervous little guy with a metal helmet with horns and the caption of “Viking Worrier”. Right now I was that character.

  Matt came over and joined me. “I saw Fred fall” he told in a low voice. “I was following the truck out of the camp when Fred and Ron jumped out and firebombed the house.” Matt went on to say, “Fred did not slip; he had been grabbed by one of the Zoms that had been mowed down by the plow. Fred had kicked free and then ran to the truck.” Matt said “I couldn’t tell if Fred had
been bitten, but I felt you should at least know and keep an eye on him.”

  This did not sound good. I remembered a quote from Langley, an old friend of mine who said to go easy on your fears because they will meet you halfway. I had been thinking about the potential of what to do if someone was infected and now it may have happened.

  I told Matt, “Go get Teckla and Charlene so I can talk to them, but keep it low key.”

  When they joined me, I told them what Matt had said. This situation was serious and we had to get a look at Fred to see if he was bitten. I could understand that in the heat of the moment he might not remember the details of his fall, or he could be in denial if he was bitten. But we needed to know for the safety of the group.

  I suggested that I take Fred aside and talk to him. We needed to get him to disrobe and give Charlene a chance to inspect him for any bite or blood. Once we knew one way or the other we could go from there. Teckla and Charlene both agreed and felt it was important to keep this low profile to prevent panic.