Awake

by Edward J. McFadden III

  Maureen went to start the van, but the keys were gone. Anger and astonishment made her pound the steering wheel, but even if she could start the van, where would she go? The entrance was blocked, but at least she could try and run them down. Leaving Don and Lester behind wasn’t a concern, not with a pack of walkers descending on them. They hooted and hollered, jumped up and down, and pounded their chests. The transformed ambled forward awkwardly, and there were at least fifty of them dressed in the torn clothes of the people they’d once been. Some carried clubs and other basic weapons like axes, hammers, and kitchen knives.

  “He left us out here without the keys? WTF?” Saura yelled.

  Maureen leaned on the horn again, and the sleepwalkers paused for an instant, and then kept coming. The walkers had almost reached them, and Maureen looked to the warehouse, but saw no one.

  The horde of walkers advanced, and there were children among the damned. This made her cry. Throughout it all, she’d kept it together, but the children were too much.

  One kid wore a blue dress, and was missing an eye. Dried blood filled the empty socket, and the girl’s straw-like hair was wild. A boy of perhaps three hung on the leg of a bigger walker, the child’s face purple. Then there was the blood—so much blood, and most of the sleepwalkers were covered in it.

  The horde surrounded the van and rocked it back and forth. In response, Maureen and crew adjusted their positions with each push, trying to counterbalance the vehicle.

  The infected swarmed over the van so thick it got dark. Tank barked, and Kristin screamed at the faces of sleepwalkers pressed against the windows. She buried herself in Maureen as the van rocked back and forth. Maureen remembered Don, and what he had said to Saura, and she thought Tristin needed that same speech. “Honey, you have to buck up a little if you want to make it out of here. I can only do so much for you.”

  The window by Raul shattered. Arms reached into the van, grasping for him. He tried to shield himself and move away, but rough hands seized him and yanked him halfway out the window. Raul wailed in pain as he clawed at the van in an attempt to get away. Tank bit the arm holding Raul, and he pulled his arm free. Raul tossed the Sig Saur to Tristin as the walkers got hold of his other arm and tore him through the broken window. The sound of breaking bone and ripping cartilage made Tristin retch, and she puked up the beef jerky she’d just eaten. Blood splattered the interior of the van, and Tristin screamed.

  The van continued to rock, coming close to flipping. Raul’s blood was hot on Maureen’s face, and she thought of Tim. The rear window shattered. Walkers climbed in through the back of the van. Tank blocked the way, growling as if possessed. So it was that Maureen didn’t see Raul’s final moments, but as he was carried into the horde, she saw that his legs were already gone.

  Maureen, Saura, and Tristin jumped into the front seat, knives out. Maureen aimed the rifle at the walker coming at her from the rear of the van and fired. The thing’s head exploded, and the rest of the transformed froze. Maureen flipped the gun around, and held it by the barrel before her like a club. Three walkers replaced the one Maureen shot. Tristin fired the Sig Saur, and it almost knocked her to the floor. She’d missed wildly, but the horde had stopped coming again.

  Boom! Boom!

  The shotgun blasts were like music and the sleepwalkers scrambled like cockroaches. Tristin fired the Sig Saur for the last time, and hit a walker in the rear of the van, but the shot didn’t kill or wake it. But it was enough, and the sleepwalkers fled the way they’d come, glass ripping and tearing at their flesh as they wiggled through the broken window.

  Maureen stole a glance amidst the chaos, looking for Raul, but a bloodied lump of flesh was all that remained of her friend.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Don and Lester did as they were told, and laid on the floor in front of Tony. The guns rested on the floor a few feet away, but they were out of reach. Don heard Lester breathing hard beside him, and felt his stare. Don said, “My name is Don Obe—”

  “Shut up!” Tony said. “You think I want to hear your desperate bullshit?”

  “I just wanted—”

  “What? You think you’re the first fools to think of getting away by boat? I’ve been listening to the Navy channel, and I understand some of their lingo. No way anyone is getting through their blockade.”

  Silence fell and Don waited. He’d tried to speak twice, and now he would wait to be asked a question. Several minutes passed, and all Tony did was stare at them. Then he said, “Go ahead. Who the hell are you? If you lie to me, you’re done.” Tony stuck his revolver in his waistband and picked up the shotgun and the M16. He leaned the shotgun against a workbench, but kept the M16.

  “We’re not trying to get away,” Don said.

  “Right. What are you doing then?” Tony asked.

  “My name is Don Oberbier, and this is my associate Lester. I’m a federal agent working on behalf of the government. I came here because I thought you might have a marine radio we could modify so I can contact my people.”

  “Impossible. I’ve tried, and there’s been no response. They ignore me,” Tony said. “Sit up.” Don and Lester sat up and brushed themselves off. “Don’t get any stupid ideas. I will kill you.”

  “Of that, I have no doubts,” said Don. “And it won’t be impossible for me.”

  Tony laughed. “Even if you are who you say you are, how can they be sure it’s you? Hundreds of people have tried to contact them with every story imaginable.”

  “I have a special code I can give them so they know it’s me,” Don said.

  “You got any proof? You sure don’t look like an agent,” Tony said.

  Don ran through his options and decided he had no real choice. In a steady, calm tone, Don told Tony most of the story from the moment he’d walked into the Redro house. Tony O said nothing, but his face seemed to soften when Don told of Maureen, Tristin, and Saura hiding in the car.

  “Still don’t see how I can trust you,” Tony said.

  “You don’t need to. Take a look out your front window, and I’ll show you the van with our friends in it. If that’s not good enough, it doesn’t matter. Let us do our work while you watch us at gunpoint. You’ll know pretty fast if I’m lying.”

  Tony considered this. “I have a radio you can use,” he said, and Don sighed with relief, and when he looked over at Lester, the tension had left his face, and his eyebrows were no longer knitted across his forehead.

  “I need to get way up on the UHF scale to 2106.19MHz. Do you have an antenna?” asked Don.

  “Yeah. A big one. I used to run a ferry service, and I used it to communicate with them. What I’m worried about is the power to get up that high.”

  “That’s why we need a second marine battery,” Lester said.

  “So that really is the reason you came here?” Tony asked.

  “That’s it,” said Don. Tony was coming around, and the longer they talked, the more confident Don felt. At that moment, the faint glow of a light at the end of the tunnel began to flicker.

  Tony considered them for several minutes and said nothing. Then he opened a cabinet, placed the M16 and shotgun inside, and then locked it. He had pulled his revolver, and he kept it somewhat pointed at them as he handled the guns.

  Lester looked to Don, who was watching Tony’s every move. Don shook his head ever so slightly, and Lester looked at the floor. Don could take the man. The opening was there while his attention was focused on the guns, but he didn’t think he needed to take the risk. If he went for Tony, there was always the possibility he’d get shot. If things went south, he’d have to take the risk, but now there was no need.

  When Tony finished putting away the guns, he pulled up a stool and sat before Don and Lester. “You guys seem like the real deal, but the world has gone nuts, as you know well. The radio is in the backroom there, and the batteries are in the trickle charge room.”

  Don got up and dusted himself off, and Tony pointed the gun at him. “This isn
’t over. If you so much as fart the wrong way, I will not hesitate to take you down, like I did the others. Come with me.”

  Lester rose, and the three men went to the back of the warehouse where there was a series of small rooms. “Look in there,” Tony said.

  Don opened the door and the smell of rotting flesh assailed him. He coughed and covered his nose as he stepped into the room, but he couldn’t make it through the door. Bodies were stacked on top of each other in neat piles. There were women, several men, and a child or two, all shot to death. The white scars that identified them as infected creased their faces, and the trauma of their final moments still showed in their expressions.

  Don stepped back and closed the door. Tony said, “Like I said, you weren’t the first ones with the idea to come here.” Tony examined his shoes. It was clear to Don this man wasn’t a killer, but when fighting for one’s life, people did things they normally would never do.

  “We’ve killed our share of innocents, and some we left to die. I understand,” Don said.

  “I just wanted you to understand I wasn’t kidding,” Tony said.

  “Message received,” said Lester. “Why’d you bring them inside? That’s like stocking up on honey when you’re fighting an army of ants. Got m…”

  “I didn’t want…” Tony’s voice broke-up, and a tear slipped down his face. “Have you seen what they do to the dead?” Lester and Don nodded. “Well, there’s no way I can let that happen. These were people. Some of which I knew,” Tony said.

  “We’re losing daylight,” Don said. “Can I get started?”

  “One last condition,” Tony said. “I get to listen in.”

  “Done,” Don said.

  Don went into the trickle charge room where many batteries were stacked on racks and connected to a machine that constantly charged the deep cycle units when the power was on. He removed the newest-looking battery and carried it to where Tony had the radio.

  The radio was exactly what they needed. It was a high-end UHF with large metal brackets still attached to the top where it had been bolted to a ship. Lester went to work tinkering with the radio. Tony turned on the overhead light, and Don started.

  “You’ve got power?” he asked.

  “No. But I got plenty of batteries, and a large power inverter,” said Tony. Don wagged his head.

  There was a loud rumbling noise coming from outside, but no horn. “Can we go take a look out that front window while Lester does his thing? I’d like to check on our friends and see what’s causing all that noise.”

  Tony’s eyes shifted to Lester, then back to Don. He appeared to make a significant decision. He put the revolver in his waistband, and said, “Sure.”

  Don and Tony left Lester to finish modifying the radio. The place already stank from the soldering iron. When they got to the front office, Tony said, “Holy turd.” A long line of military vehicles was passing the front entrance.

  “See there,” Don said, and he pointed to the VW van. “See my people there?”

  “I do.” Tony shifted on his feet, and looked nervous. “Shouldn’t we go out there? Try to stop them? They may have a protected area they can take us to?”

  “They probably do, but we can’t,” Don said. “You ever been in the service?” Tony shook his head no. “Well, you don’t get in the way of a force that size unless you want to get rolled over. They are on their way to war, and I wouldn’t get in their way at this point even if I could prove who I was and that we were uninfected.”

  This seemed to appease Tony, and when the convoy was done going by, and nothing happened to Maureen and crew, they headed back to see if Lester was finished.

  He was. The radio crackled with static. Lester had a very hard time honing in on 2106.19MHz. When he thought he had the radio tuned as best as he could, and the static had diminished to a low buzz, Lester turned to Don. “All yours.”

  “The moment of truth,” Don said.

  He called into the radio, saying his name, and the code names of every person he knew. Nothing. This went on for several minutes, and Don was getting frustrated.

  “How will they know to check that frequency?” Tony asked.

  “They know I’m in here. I brought down the quarantine. They’re listening. There must be something wrong with the radio,” Don said.

  “Nope,” said Lester. “It’s getting a little hot because of the extra power, but it's working fine.”

  Don continued to call into the silence, and the minutes passed. He was ready to give up when a female voice boomed from the radio. “Attention. This is a restricted military frequency. Please get off this channel immediately.”

  “This is Don Oberbier. I work for Big Bird. Please stand by for my security code.”

  Silence. Then, “Please wait one moment. Do not transmit,” said the voice.

  Several moments passed, and Lester said, “We better get on with this or we’re gonna need to rig another unit. This thing is getting hot.”

  A deep male voice came over the radio. “Agent Oberbier, we’ve been waiting on you. Code please.”

  “2719 dash, 3385 dash, 0289,” Don said.

  Silence.

  “Don. For shit sake, we thought we’d lost you. We found the van, but there wasn’t much left and we feared the worst,” said the voice over the radio.

  “Massie?” Don asked.

  “Yup,” he said. “What’ve you got? You want out, I suppose?”

  “Massie, tell the higher ups it’s the money. The pathogen is being transmitted on money,” Don said.

  “Money? We thought it was this drug everyone’s been getting high on, ride,” Massie said.

  “Me too, at first. But it’s the money from the drug transactions that started it. I’m sure of it.”

  “10-4, Don. I’ll speak with Big Bird and we can check all the cash supplies and send out an international alert to other governments.”

  “I heard the quarantine is holding,” Don said.

  “It is,” Massie said.

  Lester nudged Don and pointed at the radio. A thin tendril of smoke rose from the unit.

  “Do you know they’re afraid of loud noises, and that heat and sunlight hurts them?”

  “We’ve got a few guys on the inside and they’ve told us that, but the things appear to be adapting and learning. Covering themselves up, and such. Driving cars and learning how to set traps and use weapons. The ones in custody have to be sedated, and they’ve provided little from a behavioral standpoint. We know sunlight and heat can kill bacteria, so we figure that has something to do with it.”

  “Yes, that’s what we’ve seen as well. Also, animals don’t appear to be affected at all,” Don said.

  “We know. The brains tell me the pathogen takes over the neocortex of its host, hence animals don’t get infected because they don’t have one. In humans, the neocortex plays an influential role in sleep, memory, and learning. The brains believe this is how it turns people into sleepwalkers. The physical aspect of it we’re still working on, but we know the virus enflames all live tissue, and increases adrenaline output, which explains their extraordinary strength and speed. We’ve almost got a good test for the pathogen, and once we do, we’ll be able to get people out.”

  Now Don asked that question that had worried him from the start. “What about mosquitoes?” The flying miniature vampires had spread plague since the beginning of time.

  “We’re doing what we can. We’re spraying all along Alligator Alley, and northern Florida, while not under quarantine, is still locked down tight. Mosquitoes don’t have much of a flying range, and they don’t live long, so we’re hopeful.”

  “Any ideas on an antidote? You know victims can be woken, yes?”

  “Twice. Yes. After the second waking, the victim can’t snap out of the trance the pathogen puts it under, and those people are effectively lost,” Massie said.

  “Last but not least, it’s time to get me out,” Don said. “Now. And I have several people with me under my prot
ection. They aren’t infected, and need to be extracted with me. I wouldn’t have this information if it wasn’t for them.”

  A long silence filled the void between Don and Massie. Smoke poured from the radio now, and in moments, it would short out. Massie’s voice came back. “No can do. At least not now. Maybe in a couple of days when defensive positions within the city are setup and the testing protocols are worked out. I could put you in touch with the military on the ground, but they’re in the thick of the shit. No way can I authorize you taking civilians into the city. Hunker down and wait.”

  It was Don’s turn to say no can do. “I have a packet of money with the original pathogen,” he said, and smiled, as if he’d played his last card.

  “Hold on,” Massie said. “We need to contact Big Bird.”

  Static filled the silence, and Don’s mind ran back to the day he’d met Massie. He’d appeared like a ghost from the mist, and saved his life. Massie had approached with caution, sizing Don up as if he were an animal. Don hadn’t known his name, where he was from, or where he’d been. Massie must have seen this in his eyes because all he remembered about their meeting was the look of pity that set him off. Many months later, he’d been told of how he’d attacked as Massie tried to set him free. Rehab had taken three years, and through it all, Massie stayed with him, and when it was over, Don was recruited.

  There was a blast of static from the radio, and the sound of muffled speech, but then more gentle static.

  Over the years, he’d asked himself what would have happened to him had he not been captured? Would he still be in the military? Probably not. Most likely he would’ve mustered out like all his friends, and he’d be married with two kids and walking a beat in Chicago or Miami. Instead, day by day, he’d fought to climb from the abyss, and when his second chance came, he grabbed it and didn’t look back.

  They waited for what felt like a long time, but was only a few minutes. The radio looked like it was going to explode, and more static filled the channel. When Massie came back on, he sounded sullen.