Apex Predator

by Glyn Gardner

  APEX PREDATOR

  By Glyn Gardner

  Copyright 2013

  Day 1

  Oak Hills Drive, Bossier City LA.

  Pulling into the driveway, Mike was so relieved to be home. It had been a hell-of-a-day. Walking through the front door, he hit a button on his key chain. His Ford F-150 chirped. At least that worked. Jennifer greeted him with a peck on the cheek.

  “How was your day,” she asked as she continued on to the kitchen. The smell of dinner caught his attention. Another boxed dinner. Oh well, at least it was better than the institutional lunch he ate at work.

  “Not so good. Aaron called in sick today, fever or something like that. And as if that wasn’t bad enough, Bobby had to spend the day at the police station, something about that shooting last week. So, it was me and Jose. He had the front gate, and I had the whole interior. I was on my feet all day. Oh, and the protesters were out in force. We had to get PD to cordon off the road so we could all get in and out.”

  He unbuckled his Sam Brown belt; hanging it on the coat tree, then upstairs to lock up his pistol. Unloaded and safe, he spun the handle on his gun safe. Click. He descended the stairs for that dinner.

  “So, how was your day?” he asked s he descended the stairs.

  “Not bad. You know, went shopping to buy you this feast. Stocked up on those soda’s you can’t seem to live without. Oh, I also got a new set of scrubs while I was out. You know since that drunk barfed on me last week, I can’t seem to be able to get the smell out.”

  “You work tomorrow?” he asked.

  “Yup, three in a row, then I have the weekend off. It shouldn’t be too bad, full moon this weekend though. They’re gonna have their hands full. Weekend and full moon, the nuts are gonna be crawling outa the wood works.”

  “Don’t know how you deal with those folks. When they wander near the plant, we just tackle ‘um, cuff ‘um, and call PD. You guys have to figure out how to make ‘um better.”

  “Sometimes I wish we could just call the cops. Usually they bring ‘um to us, or EMS. You know: go to jail, or cry crazy and come to us. You know where they choose. Three hots (as in meals) and a cot, or three hots and Ativan, Xanax, etc…”

  “… story tonight, the three victims of this morning’s attacks have been taken to LSU health sciences center. Two are in critical condition, and the third is being held for observation. Officials report that the attacker was shot by police as he attacked several responding officers, biting two; one in the neck.” The scene on the TV showed several police cars parked in front of a brown brick apartment complex, the grill of a red 18 wheeler just inside the frame. Several officers in black uniforms were standing near an ambulance apparently talking to the paramedics.

  “Did you say… biting?” asked the unseen anchorman.

  “That’s right, Tom. Several officers were bitten by the suspect. After several of them tried to subdue the attacker, he began biting the officers. One was bitted in his neck. A second officer was injured, but the police spokesman is refusing to comment at this time.”

  “What the hell is wrong with people?” Mike blurted. “I mean are all the nuts you get in the ER like that one? Who in the world attacks three people with their bare hands, and then charges the cops? I’m glad they shot him. Just wish it would have been sooner.”

  “Naw, most of our nuts are just a little nuts. To take on a bunch of guys with guns and TASERS and stuff is like nuts on steroids.”

  “And who bites people these days? Really? Who does he think he is…Mike Tyson?”

  “Hello. We covered this. He’s nuts. Well, he was nuts. And now he’s dead.”

  Day 2

  Oak Hills Drive, Bossier City LA.

  Mike walked down the stairs still in his boxers. One of these days, he thought, we need to get one of those coffee pots with a timer on it. Then I wouldn’t have to walk down these damned stairs before I’ve had my shower and a chance to wake up,

  He pressed the button labeled “BREW.” He heard that familiar gurgle coming from deep in the bowels of the coffee maker. Back up stairs to get in the shower. He always liked to get in before her. The water always seemed hotter when you were in first.

  As he reached the top of the stairs, he could hear the shower running. Damn, he thought. I knew it. Hope this is one of her quick showers. Gonna have to leave early again today. A feeling of dread fell over him as he thought about the anti-nuclear-power-nuts that have been laying siege to the plant for the last two weeks.

  “Don’t enjoy that shower too much. I gotta run the green gauntlet again this morning to get to work.”

  “Are you saying I take too long?” she asked.

  “I didn’t exactly say that.” He said s he pulled his boxers off. “But, yes, you do take too long.” He climbed into the shower with her.

  “Now we can either share this shower,” he said with a big grin. “Or, you may vacate it of your own accord.”

  “Well, since you are in a hurry. I guess I’m done anyway.” She flipped her wet hair as she exited the shower.

  As he walked down the stairs, dressed in his black pants and white t-shirt, he was greeted with the smell of the coffee he had started earlier. He also caught a whiff of bacon. Jennifer must be making breakfast. She always ate something big on mornings she worked. Something about never knowing when her next meal would be.

  He headed out the front door to fetch the paper. He never read much of it, but Jennifer loved the coupons, and he could keep from sounding like a dumbass at work if he at least read the headlines, which he usually did over breakfast.

  “Hey Andy,” he shouted to Andy Finch. Andy was out for his morning jog. He waived to Mike.

  “You catch that ballgame this weekend?” Andy asked slowing down a bit.

  “Which one,” he asked.

  “Baseball of course, The Series.” Andy continued to slow and jog backwards, waiting for an answer.

  “Yeah, this is turning out to be…”

  What happened next seemed to happen in slow motion.

  Andy neared the next corner, still running backward. From where Mike stood, it looked like a drunk stumbled out and bumped into Andy. They both went over; Andy backwards, and the drunk to the side. They both fell out of site. Then the screaming started. It was like nothing Mike had ever heard before.

  “Holy Shit! You alright Andy?” Mike cleared his porch steps in one leap. Shit! Don’t let Andy be hurt too bad.

  In just a second or two the screaming stopped, replaced by a strange gurgling sound and moaning. Mike slid to a stop as he rounded the black SUV that was between him and Andy. He couldn’t believe his eyes. The drunk was kneeled over Andy, chewing on his neck. It was eating him like one of those big cats on Animal Planet. It pulled off a chunk of Andy’s flesh. What the Fuck?

  “Hey! What the hell are you doing?”

  For the rest of his life Mike would wonder why he didn’t grab the guy. He couldn’t. He couldn’t make his brain believe what his eyes were seeing. He was frozen, scared. Oh, God. What the hell is this? Do something. Do something quick! Anything Mike, just don’t stand here. Run!!!! And he did.

  Slam! Click. Click. What now? He heard Jennifer brushing her teeth. Oh Shit? What do I say to her? What do I do? He turned to the door, looked through the peep hole. He could see people on the street. Maybe three or four of them were milling around out there. He started to unlock the door. He had to warn them about the drunk. Stop. Use your head Mike. He went to the window.

  Something isn’t right. The four figures walked slumped over at the shoulders. One had a dark stain on his shirt. Another seemed to be dragging her left leg behind her in some strange limp.

  Dave Wilson, the neighbor across the street, walked out of his front door. Dressed in hi
s blue work uniform, he was fiddling with his keys. He must not have heard the commotion. He isn’t paying attention. He doesn’t notice the four figures in the street. But they notice him. Almost in unison they turned and began walking up Dave’s driveway.

  Ok, now he sees them

  “What do you guys want?” Mike heard Dave ask.

  “Hey get out of my yard!”

  And like that, they were on him. Mike could see the panic in Dave’s face from all the way across the street. Dave tried to run, but they had hold of his blue shirt. They pulled him to the ground screaming. He was able to pull away from one, only to be grabbed by two more. He tried to crawl, kicking and yelling for help.

  His wife, Sharon, opened the front door. The melee had almost made it to the porch.

  “Get the gun, honey!”

  Sharon ran into the house, leaving the door open as she did. One of the four noticed her. The one with the blood stained shirt. He broke from the melee and shambled up the porch steps. He made it to the top step.

  BANG! The thing stumbled back, then forward again. BANG! BANG! This time the thing fell from the porch, only to get up again.

  Sharon started to take aim at her husband’s attackers. One had hold of his ankle. Another was on his back trying to pull his hair. The third one was trying to mount the steps. She shifted her aim.

  BANG! BANG! CLICK! BANG! BANG!

  The head of the thing (the female with the broken leg) snapped back from the impact of the .357 round. Sharon must have connected a head shot. It stayed down. The other three, however, were not down.

  The one on the porch grabbed Sharon’s arm. Sharon only weighed about 120 pounds dripping wet and the thing was an easy 160. NO CONTEST. It flung her to the ground like a rag doll and was on top of her in an instant. She screamed as it tore into her flesh.

  Dave was still struggling against his assailants. One finally bit his leg. He kicked it off. Somehow, he managed to make it to his feet. He stumbled towards the door. Oh shit, Mike thought, the kids must still be home.

  Dave tackled the monstrosity currently feeding on his wife. He grabbed it by the collar and dragged it, diving through out of the doorway. The creature reaching for him as the door slammed shut.

  The three remaining things began banging and clawing at Dave’s door.

  “What are you looking at sweetheart?”

  Shit! I totally forgot about her. What to say? How do I tell her what just happened?

  “What’s wrong?” she asked. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

  “Look out the window at Dave’s house.”

  “Oh my God? Who is that on the ground? Is that Sharon? Who are those people?”

  “I don’t know. Dave got attacked too, but made it inside.”

  “Who else is that on the ground?”

  “I don’t know. Sharon shot two of them: the one on the ground, and the tall one there. She shot him three times that I could count. Andy Finch got attacked down the street. One of those things was eating him.”

  “Oh God! Oh God! What’s going on? Who are they? What are they? We need to call the cops.”

  She picked up the phone and dialed 911. “911 what is your emergency?”

  “My neighbor and his wife were just attacked by a bunch of people. I think she’s either hurt bad or dead.”

  The 911 operator collected all the pertinent information, and promised to dispatch units and an ambulance. The Operator then advised Jen to remain in her home until the police arrived.

  Two white Police cars arrived at almost the same time. Four officers approached the house, the ghouls still clawing at the door. The officer in charge, wearing sergeant’s stripes, called out to the suspects. Two turned, including the one with three bullet holes in its shirt. They advanced on the officers. The Sergeant drew his TASER and fired into the closest one. Mike would later swear he could hear the TASER clicking from cross the street.

  The creature, however, didn’t seem to notice. He grabbed the Sergeant in what looked like a big bear hug. Except in this embrace, the police officer ended up on the ground with blood pouring from a bite wound to his neck.

  The rest of the officers drew thier service weapons. Bullets slammed into the attacker and officer alike. The attackers continued their onslaught. As the Sergeant’s partner fell under the weight of the two creatures, the two other officers retreated to their cruiser. They sped off, never to be seen on Oak Hills Drive. again.

  Mike and Jennifer couldn’t move. What had just happened? Sharon…Andy…the two cops? And the creatures are still walking around. As if to emphasize the point, the thing that killed Andy emerged from behind the black SUV. Andy’s blood stained its face, hands, and clothes.

  The sound of gunshots and screams got the attention of some of the neighbors. Several of them were congregated at the end of the street. Mrs. Drawbond screamed at the sight of the two downed officers.

  The creatures turned, almost as one. They advanced on the group of onlookers, more screaming. Running. They all ran into the Drawbond house. Run! Run faster! They’re in the house. They’re safe. Wait. The first ghoul pushed the door. Oh God! They didn’t lock the door. Screams. Gunshots. More screams. Five minute maybe. Then it all stopped.

  Jennifer slumped onto the couch, tears running down her cheeks. She worked with Sharon at the hospital. She’d babysat the Drawbond boys about once a month. It was just too much to bear. Gone, all of them gone.

  “Work, I have to get to work,” she exclaimed. She went to the table and picked up her car keys. She walked through the kitchen to the garage. Mike intercepted her.

  “You can’t.”

  “I have too. Get out of my way.”

  “You can’t go out there.”

  “Move! I can’t stay here in this house!”

  “Jen! We can’t go out there. They’ll rip you apart. For God sake Jen, you don’t even have shoes on!” He locked the deadbolt. She sat down at the kitchen table, weeping.

  “We can’t go outside. Those things are out there. They’ve already killed four people. Jesus, you saw that one get shot like 20 times. Fuck! What are we gonna do? We gotta stay here right now. Shit!” He ran to the back door.

  The back door was mostly glass. He threw the dead bolt. Click.

  He looked out the window. There was nobody in the backyard. Thank God.

  “Help me get the entertainment center in front of the back door.”

  “Huh?” Jen was still in shock.

  “This door, it has a lot of glass. We have to block it.”

  “Oh, ok.” She got up moving almost like the zombies outside. She pulled while he pushed. Together they got the 250 pound piece of solid wood in front of the door.

  “Alright, we need to secure this place. Doors are locked. Close the blinds. I don’t know if it’ll keep them out, but it shouldn’t draw attention.”

  Jen picked up the phone. “911 What is your emergency?”

  “Yes ma’am I just called and now 2 of your police officers are dead across the street from me, and the group of …whatever they are…are still out there. They chased the Drawbond’s and some other folks into the Drawbond house. I think they’re all dead too. Oh Jesus!” She began to cry again.

  “Ma’am calm down. We are aware of the violence going on in your neighborhood. We are gathering units together now to help you and your neighbors. Please lock your doors, and stay in your home. Don’t go outside. Help is on the way.” And the line went dead.

  “Mike! Where are you?”

  “Upstairs. Be right down.”

  He descended the stairs a few minutes later. He had his Sam Brown belt on with his Glock .40 caliber pistol in its holster. He also had a shotgun and the Lady Smith he bought for her last year. He handed it to her.

  “What am I supposed to do with this? You saw how many times it took to shoot just one. What is this thing gonna do?”

  “Look, see the one out there on Dave’s lawn?”

  “So?”

  “Sharon sho
t that thing in the head. See, it isn’t moving. I’m thinking they die if you shoot them in the head. They aren’t that fast, so head shots shouldn’t be too hard.”

  “That’s easy for you to say. I haven’t shot this thing in like 8 months.”

  BAM! Click-click. BAM!

  They both ran to the front window. Brian and Cheryl Peters were in the street. Both armed with shotguns. The creatures from the Drawbond house had made it back out to the street. Brian and Cheryl were engaging them from about 60 yards. The four ghouls advanced from up the street. Slowly, as a group they came.

  BAM! Click-click. BAM! Click-click. Aim higher guys. C’mon you can do it. As the group closed to 20 yards, a ghoul shambled out from behind the black SUV. Oh Shit! It’s Andy…Or at least it was Andy. They don’t see it. Look-out! But it was too late. The Andy-zombie had Brian in the death embrace.

  He screamed. Cheryl turned. Her reflexes took over. She fired a quick shot. The Andy-zombie and Brian both crumpled to the ground, large chunks taken out of their respective heads.

  “NO!” she cried. Her shotgun fell from her hands. She fell to the ground scooping Brian’s head into her arms. She had time for one gentle kiss to what was left of his forehead before the rest of the ghouls fell upon her. Mike and Jen agreed later that Cheryl didn’t move or make a sound as she was devoured.

  “Did you see that?” Jen screamed. “That was Andy! You said he was dead!”

  “He was. Fuck! That thing was eating him for fuck sake! How the fuck did that Andy-thing get Brian? What the fuck? Shit! Shit! Shit!”

  “Quiet!” She yelled. “We have to be quiet.”

  “Ok. Get a grip Mike-ole-boy. We gotta figure this out. Figure them out. I’m not gonna end up like Andy or Brian.”

  “Don’t worry honey. I promise not to shoot you in the head,” she quipped.

  For the rest of the day they watched. They watched and they learned. They watched as the cops reanimated. They watched as the dead neighbors began shambling about the street. Some congregating around homes with lights on or where they seemed to have heard some sort noise.

  They both tried to call family. Mike was able to reach his brother in Atlanta. He hadn’t heard from anyone else in the family. He did question Mike about some rioting he’d heard about on the news. Mike didn’t know what to say, so he kept his mouth shut.