They Came With The Storm (The Effacing)

by Clark, T. Anwar

  "They know we're in here!" Maria whined.

  "Let's wait for their next move. We got more firepower in here than out there." Mike answered.

  "Take ‘em as they come thru the hatch. Someone get to the front and look out." I added.

  "They know we're in here!" Maria whined.

  "Everyone just be quiet and watch!" Pops pointed to the screen.

  The heavily armed men stopped in the middle of the street, half way down. One of them pressed at his ear.

  Pops radio picked up a signal:

  Z1: Zone one, Zone 4.

  Z4: Zone four, Zone 1.

  Z1: Zone four, when your teams reach rally on the north-west sides, leave the food and water, then switch your coms to your private channels, copy?

  Z4: Loud and clear.

  The signal went cold.

  Mike asked Pops, "Can you find their private channel?"

  "Doubt it," Pops answered, "another frequency. Shit, they switch every time they leave an order, damn-near. You heard him. It took me a while to find this one, sounds like it belongs to Zone One. Even the police shifted... I'm surprised they haven't clouded my transmission somehow. Shit else works…"

  "It sounds like they're about to feed us." I said.

  “Yeah, feed us like dogs, right?” Maria said. “Just leave it on the streets? Hardly…”

  Everyone moved closer to the screen.

  The soldier with the duffle bag dropped it, and the four of them huddled around it. When they broke huddle, they each held dark colored garbage bags, spread out and disposed of the contents. One bag went in between an office building and furniture store, another by a laundry mat, a third by a clothing store, and the fourth was placed the middle of the street near the gun shop. I wondered what the hell they were doing.

  Pops zoomed in on what was left in the street. It was about two feet long, blooded, with a bone sticking out of its thicker end, dark in texture.

  "Raw horse meat," Pops said of the item.

  Mike advanced toward the screen.

  Ann frowned in disgust.

  Baker said, "What is it?"

  I tried to figure it out before casting my judgment, looking at Maria.

  Maria examined all of our expressions carefully, then turned back to the screen and said, "It's a poorly severed human leg." and turned her head, digging at her eye like she was trying to wipe the vision off.

  We all looked to her in disbelief.

  "How you know?" Baker asked.

  She turned to him, "I’m a nurse."

  We all watched the screen.

  The commandos backed up Maria's theory by tossing severed hands and feet into the streets, leaving something inside the bag, leaving it in the street before loading back into the van.

  Ann became nauseous and buried her face into Mike's push-up built chest. Mike held her like he would have held Sarah if she were there at the time. He told her, "If you need to throw up, the bathrooms around the corner." but continued to hold her while he watched the screens. I wondered if he was knocking her off would he have told me.

  The warmongers hopped back in the vans and waited.

  "What the fuck!" I exclaimed.

  Baker stood up from the floor.

  Mike let go of Ann and signaled Baker to the screens with two quick snaps and the point of a finger. He rubbed Baker's head then spoke softly, "You don't know what’s going on, kid? You're gonna wish you heard mommy calling in a minute."

  The street was silent.

  Pops shifted the camera back to its original position.

  Baker anxiously looked to Mike and asked, "What's gonna happen?"

  Mike didn't answer.

  Baker looked back to the screen.

  A shadow appeared from behind the camera.

  "Here we go." mentioned Pops.

  "It’s one of those things." said Maria.

  "Quiet." Pops muttered.

  It was Baker's two accomplices. They didn't see the black vans at the north end of the street; they must have only heard the tires heading their way and ran. They walked back in front of the camera. They were waiting on Baker, and Baker knew it.

  "I gotta get out there." Baker advised.

  "You wanna go home, or you wanna go with those men? Wait a minute." Mike told him.

  Pops zoomed in on the vans. Four men leaped from the rear. Two ran west. Two went east. They were flanking the teenage hoods from both sides, and it was too dangerous to warn them, so we just had to wait it out.

  After a few seconds, the two hoods began running southbound with the four infantrymen in pursuit. The vans lit up the streets with their headlights, and the teens stopped and raised their hands over their heads. The soldiers caught up, and the hoods dropped to their knees. And it was a good thing they did after hearing the transmission to S.O.S...

  The vans gradually pulled forward.

  The hoods hands were bound in plastic restraints before they were lifted to their feet. Then, unexpectedly, the vans slowly backed up and cut off the lights, two of their regime turned and aimed their machine guns; the other two separated the hoods and rushed them aboard the two vans. And someone appeared from underneath the camera.

  We continued to watch the screen. We listened to a pain-felt moan coming from outside the gun shop as the person engaged the troops. Before the person became fully visible, more appeared along with it, their physical presence on screen was no longer human.

  Baker turned to the gun shop door and swallowed, as if he had a large gulp of his favorite ice cold drink. Maybe he was thinking he could have shared the same fate as his friends; as long as he kept his eyes glued to the screen he was sure to find out.

  Mike acknowledged Baker, hardened his voice, and said, "We're safe in here." then ordered, "Keep watching the screen."

  Baker turned to the screen to get a rear end first look of what was really happening; a Bleeder, blood soaked and undead, with more Bleeders following in route toward the troops.

  The armed forces hopped in the back of one of the vans, and the drivers, in reverse, went back up the street until they were out of the camera's view.

  "They can't walk that fast. These soldiers are picking them up and dropping them off in different locations… feeding them human body parts." Mike held his frustration, trying not to project his anger.

  Ann said, "What's this all about?"

  "My god!" exclaimed Pops after he seen the Bleeders grab the body parts, fighting to eat the severed flesh and meat.

  Baker stood in fear.

  I watched the screen.

  Mike answered, "Well if these things are back from the dead and going around killing people, then it’s got to be some type of conspiracy. The hurricane was supposed to have brought some type of mosquito virus that forced the Mayor to call in these mercs, they're lying about RV's with vaccines, and now this fucking effacing people shit starts, but there’s no virus that’ll bring the dead to life. It’s almost like they really want to wipe us off the face of the Earth."

  I said, "The lost colony."

  Maria returned, "Croatan?”

  “So,” Ann interjected. “You’re all thinking conspiracy theories and ghost stories. What if this is just happening? This may be a terrorist attack! Planes were flying low overhead, late last night!”

  “Look at the screen.” Maria said.

  Pops looked to us as if we were crazy. We never told him everything we knew, and listening over the radio he couldn’t have gotten a clear picture of what was really going on, and if he didn’t know, he was about to find out.

  We watched as a dozen Bleeders filled the streets and began cryptically scavenging in their own directions, slowly scattering through the darkened streets, leaving trails of blood where they traveled. Pops was the first to step back from the screens, and with his eyes wide, he said, "The end of the world as we know it. This is the devil's battlefield..." then took a few more steps back and whispered, "What have we done to deserve this."

  Mike asked, "So you want to c
hange your mind about coming with us?"

  Pops took in what he was seeing - his eyebrows lowered - and he gripped his revolver. He looked at Mike and said, "I will not abandon my ship. Y'all should wait until morning ta leave." then looked at Baker and said, "Take the boy home too." before addressing the group, "If they see you pulling out in that truck they'll stop you for sure. You should try to get some numbers on the size of their group and listen to what they say overnight."

  Baker, frightened, said, "I don't wanna go out there." his eyes glued to the screen at the gloomy sight.

  I said, "Mike, think about it... there's too much going on right now, and we have information we can go over. The night-vision headsets are useless if we're surrounded by those things and the soldiers. If we wait until daybreak we can have a better chance blending in with the rest of the population and maybe form a group to get out of here together."

  Ann cut in, "Mike, Dale and Pops are right. The four of us going out there right now wouldn’t make it up the block. We go out there blind and we're dead for sure."

  "And if we stay here?" Mike asked.

  “We should have stayed at my parents’ house.” Maria added.

  Pops answered, "What’s with you and this macho cockiness? You stand a better chance seeing exactly whatcha up against, son. You're not gettin out the city with them in full force. Not to mention it seems like they’re puttin out body parts. And if them kids ran back this way, they must of ran into those Bleeders but figured they had nuff time to grab their friend, Baker here, an still make a run for it. Now that tells me wait til they pass."

  Mike looked to Baker, then Pops, "What about the people out there?"

  Pops answered, "We just have to think about ourselves right now, son. We're all in a situation... us in here and them out there."

  We watched as the Bleeders made their way through the streets, and without anyone adding to the conversation it was settled. We take turns getting rest and surveying the area, figure out the odds against us, and leave at the crack of dawn - if there was one.

  CHAPTER VI

  Day 2

  The sun tried its damnedest to rise but was vaguely present through the murky fumes that hovered over the city. The streets were empty, except for the dried up blood stains the Bleeders left over night.

  “I hope everyone had a good night’s sleep.” Pops said. “You’re all going to have yer day cut out for you in a short while here.”

  Mike said. “We sure do appreciate everything.”

  “Y’all don’t wanna eat first?”

  “I do.” Maria inserted. I took it she’d wanted to do anything to stay alive that didn’t consist of putting her life at risk. Could you blame her?

  “I could go for something myself.” Ann accepted. “What do you have?”

  “All I got is some dried meals. Works for me.”

  The girls lost their smiles alongside their appetites and thankfully declined Pops offer. I was surprised that was all he had to offer; he had a small fridge and portable stove, but only booze and dried food? It was about to get extremely serious and they were being picky on what they ate. With the way the infection was spreading, I would not have trusted much of anything outside of a well-packaged ration of any kind. It was a perfect time to utilize the motto, beggars can’t be choosy.

  Mike laughed, and said, “Ready, bro?”

  I laughed and accepted Pops kind gesture, grabbed a couple rations and stuffed them into my backpack.

  I was first up the ladder. Mike handed up the duffle bag full of guns and equipment and climbed up next. And we both used our rifle sights to scan the area for any Bleeders, while the rest of the group made their way up.

  It seemed as if the Bleeders made their way to another part of the city overnight; maybe they were somewhere chowing down on some unlucky civilian looking for an RV with a vaccine that never received the call.

  Mike looked down the hatch to Pops and said, "One last time. Sure you don't want to join us?"

  "I can take care of myself. You boys take care of each other and we'll meet again." Pops looked at the girls, then back to Mike and said, "Take care of them ladies, too." devilishly grinned, and then sealed the battered hatch for the final time.

  We descended the roof the way we climbed, hopped back in the Hummer and headed south from the gun shop. The blood trails stopped two blocks down. Not a sign of any living person was seen on the streets, but we did see some people looking through their blinds as we passed houses and apartments before reaching our destination. Did they see the television broadcast? Why didn’t they acknowledge us by coming out? Maybe they had seen or received a visit from the soldiers that patrolled the previous night.

  When we arrived at Baker’s house, he hopped out the Hummer and ran for the door. Mike followed.

  I watched as Mike entered the house behind the flailing kid.

  "You and your brother use to hunt?" Maria asked me after they were in the house.

  "Mike, yea. I went to the range. Hit targets, that sort of thing. He went overseas and then something happened."

  "What happened?" she asked.

  I grew slightly angered, not ecstatic about going into details, "Fucking A. Sharpe, Allison Phillips and Brenda Hartigan happened."

  Maria gasped, "I'm sorry. I didn't know."

  It wasn't her fault. She didn't know my family was victims of The Scorchers a couple years back. I was the only surviving victim of the attacks. "Not your fault." I said.

  Maria, being a nurse, and probably being told not to get close to patients, had a heartfelt sigh when I mentioned what had happened.

  “Hey, what’s that?” Ann mentioned. She caught a glimpse of a guy moving on foot in our direction about a hundred yards out, reached in the duffle bag and handed me a pair of binoculars.

  “Who’s that?” I corrected her, looking into the lens.

  Baseball cap, brown skin and in his mid-forties, black t-shirt, big belly, blue jeans and sneakers. He was walking in the center of the street and looking between the houses on both sides of the street, looking in car windows. Then he cuffed his hands together in the shape of a bullhorn, placed them over his mouth and started to yell out up and down the street. I didn’t think anything of it. I described him to the girls, laid the binoculars in my lap, and looked toward Baker's house door; no sign of Mike or Baker.

  I lifted the binoculars back up and peered down the street. A Bleeder was making his way toward the man. Then, a second one appeared out a yard, and a third rose from behind a parked car. I grabbed my rifle and ran up the street.

  I was about twenty yards away when I called out to him. "Hey! Watch out! Hey! Watch out, behind you!"

  The man’s head lifted to me. He finally looked behind him.

  The Bleeders began to moan. The man started stepping away from them.

  I raised the rifle with the butt on my shoulder, looked through the scope, aimed at the head of the first Bleeder and pulled the trigger; a nice hit near the heart. The one nearest to the man went down.

  I moved in closer, eye still in the sight.

  The man began running toward me. I caught sight of the next Bleeder and pulled the trigger; headshot.

  Two down.

  I lowered my rifle.

  The man continued to run franticly toward me.

  The first downed Bleeder got back up and continued to creep forward, leaving his trail.

  When the man reached me, I said, "What are you doing out here?"

  He was eager when he responded, "My daughter. We separated last night after the lights went out. Her name’s Diana."

  "Don't know her, but maybe we can help you find her."

  “That would help a lot…”

  A Bleeder approached.

  The engine of the Hummer was getting louder. It pulled up beside me and I looked into the window to see everyone but Baker was inside.

  "You gotta get in, Dale." Mike said. "Come on!"

  I hopped in then asked the man, "You getting in?"

/>   He immediately said, "My daughter!"

  Mike stepped out of the Hummer, aimed his fully-auto and shot once at the Bleeder coming at us from about 30 yards away, the other was a-ways out. He blew a hole in the closest one’s chest; the Bleeder slowed down but was still moving.

  "What the fuck is it with these things?" Mike said before he pulled the trigger two more times, hitting the Bleeder in the upper body.

  "Aim for the head!" I yelled, as it moved closer.

  Mike shot the Bleeder in the head. It collapsed.

  "Where's Baker?" I asked.

  "Ran off," he answered, hopping back in the Hummer. "Who's your friend?"

  Maria shouted, "Look!" and pointed up the street.

  At least ten more Bleeders were making their way from in between houses and onto the streets.

  "Change your mind?" I asked the ball cap wearing father.

  He opened the back passenger side door and hopped in.

  "Dale Ashe." I said, with my arm extended, hand out.

  "Jon Wardwell." he reported, as he firmly shook my hand, "Thanks for saving my life back there. I didn't see it coming."

  "No problem." I said, as I introduced the rest of the group. "Where we headed, Jon?"

  Jon pointed the way, and Mike made a right turn, then a left on Meadows.

  "She has a friend that lives in Diamond Manor." Jon answered.

  Diamond Manor Estates was north, and we already knew the soldiers were set up in that direction; nevertheless, that was the same direction the Bleeders scattered the past night, and since we had talked about building a group to escape the city, we figured that we convince Jon to become a part of the group by helping him reunite with his daughter. And then figure a design to avoid any obstacles that stood in our way.

  Jon didn't seem amazed at the sight of the Bleeder. It was apparent that he had witnessed them over the night, and he didn't mind telling us his story on the way to Diamond Manor Estate. "The lights were on.” he slowly began. “Food was cooking on the stove, flat screen on the emergency broadcast. Diana saw it first. The street reporter was talking something about people being sick... it was on the local channel. Diana had seen it first. No other form of communication worked. It felt like we were on closed circuit and being held hostage by terrorists. And this is what they want you to see?" he paused to look at the surroundings of our defamed city streets.