Zombie Night in Canada (Book 1): First Period

by Friesen, Jamie

  Several quarantine zones around the city had gotten so large that maintaining them was no longer possible. Some zones, like the one in Millwoods, were dozens of blocks long and deep in size, and there simply wasn’t enough fencing available to surround such a large area, nor the officers necessary to patrol it 24/7. The EPS, RCMP, and Military Police had collectively decided to abandon all of the quarantines and instead begin a series of sweep and destroy missions around the capital region. Now 911 dispatchers sent police officers racing around the city, actively seeking out the infected. They still tried to just bind them with plastic ties, but in most cases, it just wasn’t safe to do so. Therefore, in many cases, firearms were drawn and drastic measures taken.

  When their daily routine morphed from sitting outside a seniors’ centre to driving around on military-style search and destroy missions rather than regular police work, Ed had initially had a more difficult time adjusting. It wasn’t that he was a bad shot or wasn’t willing to, but the constant grind of the job was starting to wear him down. After Sandy’s death though, Ed’s mood became darker and he was much more willing to deal with the infected, as if killing them might bring Sandra back. Dan, on the other hand, had been energized by it, as it brought back memories of being younger, on patrol in Afghanistan and proving on a near daily basis just how good a soldier he was. He wasn’t bloodthirsty by any stretch of the imagination, but he really missed being part of the Tactical Team.

  Chapter 7

  September 21st

  The trip back to Xander’s had been without incident, and together they carried Evelyn’s suitcase and her supply of canned goods up to his apartment. When Evelyn walked in she glanced around and smiled.

  “Not nearly as messy as most single guys’ places,” she commented.

  “Well, after my last fat-ass slob of a roommate moved out, it took me almost two weeks to clean up the mashed in Cheetos, Slurpee stains and other shit he left behind. I decided then and there that I wanted the place to myself and didn’t bother renting out the other half any more. It was just a matter of vacuuming the place once and a while to keep it half decent,” he replied.

  “Well, it’s a pleasant surprise. So many guys are total slobs.”

  Xander took the groceries to the kitchen, while Evelyn headed to the bedroom. As Evelyn put away her suitcase in the walk-in closet, she noticed Xander’s AR-7.

  “You have a rifle?” she said, walking out of the bedroom.

  “Yep. It’s nothing serious, just a little .22 caliber. It’s pretty much only good for target shooting or exterminating varmints like rats and such.”

  “Do you really think you need a rifle?”

  “No, I don’t. But it was a gift from my dying uncle and I couldn’t say no. Too many great memories are tied up with that rifle. Don’t worry, it’s only there as a precaution. I’m sure we won’t need it at all.”

  “Good, ’cause I don’t like guns,” Evelyn said.

  “Well, maybe this isn’t the time to tell you I had this in my bag yesterday,” Xander said, pulling out his .38 pistol.

  “What?!? Are you fucking crazy? What if the police had pulled you over?”

  “The police have more to worry about than some random guy driving around with a pistol under his seat.”

  “Well, I don’t want to see it. Keep it out of my sight!” she shot back angrily.

  “Okay,” Xander replied.

  “Fine,” she said and stormed off to the bathroom. Xander heard the lock click. He sighed and walked back into the kitchen, where he finished putting everything away. Suddenly remembering the beef jerky, he turned the oven back on to 125 degrees Fahrenheit and filled it with strips. Then he turned on his laptop and began surfing the internet.

  After nearly an hour, Evelyn came out of the bathroom sheepishly and tapped Xander on the shoulder.

  “Hey…” Xander said.

  “Sorry for my reaction, but I’m just not used to guns. And I’m a bit frightened of them. A friend in junior high accidentally shot herself on a hunting trip and I’ve been terrified of them since.”

  “What happened to your friend?”

  “She bled to death in the woods.” Evelyn trembled at the memory.

  “I’m really, really sorry.” Xander paused. “Look, either I can teach how to use them safely, or I’ll put them away and you don’t have to worry about them. Your choice, okay?”

  “For now, just put them away. I’ll think about it for a while.”

  “Okay. Take a look at what I found online. I found a couple really interesting things about this rabies epidemic. This video was on YouTube for a few minutes before it got pulled, but there are copies of it everywhere now. It’s pretty violent, but you need to see this.”

  Evelyn looked at the laptop, while Xander opened up his browser and in the search box, he put ‘Penn State’. He hit the top link and a video started up. Four figures, most likely men from their size and musculature, all wearing Penn State sweaters and ski masks had a woman tied to a pole in a basement. That woman was obviously infected, growling and struggling violently, desperately trying to free herself from the rope binding her. The basement walls had been padded with mattresses and a bare light bulb was hanging from the centre of the room.

  The four men took turns beating the infected victim with bats, stabbing her, even shooting her in the chest several times. Nothing had much effect on her. After every impact, be it bullet or blunt instrument, she shrugged it off and just kept growling and straining at her bindings.

  Finally, one of them stepped up to the camera and said, “There’s only one way to deal with these infected assholes.”

  One of the other men raised a pistol and shot the infected woman in the head, blowing brain matter out of the back of her skull and onto the bedding covering the walls. The victim stopped struggling immediately and hung there motionless, suspended by her restraints.

  “Don’t believe what the government is telling you; this isn’t rabies. This is something else. This is the apocalypse.”

  With that, the video ended. Evelyn sat there in shock. “That was awful,” she mumbled.

  “I know. It’s being hosted on websites around the world and people are downloading it like crazy from torrent sites, too. I can’t tell if it’s real or not, but it sure looks like it.” Xander replied. “All the social media sites are going nuts. Twitter is on fire right now and the most popular hashtag is #zombieapocalypse, if you can believe it!” he added. “I stumbled across this blog a few minutes ago. You can read it if you want, but the tone is similar to that video, albeit sadder.”

  Xander clicked on another tab in his browser and Blogger.com appeared. The title read, ‘Dead Man’s Blog’.

  Dear Reader,

  This is my first blog.

  I was never much of a technology guy, even though I live so close to Silicon Valley. I preferred to just work, party, and hang out with friends in person instead of interacting with them online. I tried Twitter, Facebook and pretty much every other hip thing out there and none of them ever felt as good as seeing and talking to people in a café or restaurant.

  For all you Red Staters out there, yes, I am one of those terrible Godless, sandal-wearing, granola-munching, peace-loving California liberals you hear so much about on Fox News. What’s even worse (from your point of view anyways) is that I’m also gay.

  Of course, if that’s all I had to say, I wouldn’t have started this blog.

  No, what I have to say is that I was bitten by an infected man three days ago outside a movie theatre. I was lonely and bored after work and thought that a short stop there would be okay. While I was getting out of my car, he came at me from the alley nearby. I dismissed him as just another homeless drunk looking for a buck and turned my back on him. When he got close, the smell of stale cigarettes and booze permeated the air. I locked the car and walked towards the entrance and was reaching for the door handle when he sank his teeth into my right forearm.

  I screamed and pushed him backw
ards. He fell into the gutter and sat there for a moment. He looked up at me and his eyes were milky and swollen. He growled and tried to get up, but couldn’t. Maybe he was still drunk or he had broken an ankle or something, but every time he tried to stand, he fell over again in slow motion, much like a tree cut down by loggers…Timber!

  The bite was just a scratch, so I dismissed it pretty much immediately and still went into the movie theater. After watching some movies and getting some relief, I headed home. The bum was gone when I came out and quite simply, I had forgotten our paths even crossed until yesterday afternoon.

  I ate dinner, went to sleep, completely oblivious to the terror that was slowly working its way through my veins. When I woke up, I felt fine. I turned on CNN and they were covering the riots in Toronto. Nevertheless, I went to work and followed my daily schedule.

  “That was two days ago,” Xander said. “Look at what he wrote yesterday.

  When I woke up this morning, I noticed the bite again in the shower. It was swollen and looked awful, like someone had hit me with a baseball bat. It didn’t hurt, but as a precaution, I put some Polysporin and a Band-Aid on and once again dismissed it. I went to work and had a working lunch with some colleagues, but by the time we got back to the office, I had a throbbing pain in my right arm. I took some Tylenol and tried to concentrate on work. But the pain just got worse and soon, it was all I could think about, so I left early.

  The second I got home, I crawled into bed and passed out. I woke up in the middle of the night, ravenous. I made myself some pasta and wolfed it down. I was walking down the hall to go back to bed when I felt my stomach rumble. I barely made it to the bathroom in time to barf it all up. After rinsing the bile out of my mouth, I was still starving, so I went back into the kitchen and made some chicken noodle soup. I ate it a little bit at a time and was able (barely) to hold it down. Then I crawled back into bed and passed out again.

  “Here’s what he wrote this morning,” Xander said after a few minutes, scrolling the screen up.

  I woke up and felt like death warmed over. I have had the flu before, as well as other illnesses, but this is nothing like any of them. I can barely move, and I’m pretty much confined to my bed. Fortunately, I left my iPhone on the nightstand, so I am writing this on it, as there is no way I can get to my Mac on the other side of the bedroom.

  As the day wears on, the pain is getting worse and worse, like fire is pouring through my veins. I called the doctor and scheduled an appointment for Monday, but I don’t think I’m going to last that long. I called 911 and the operator said emergency services were on the way. I hope they get here soon…

  “And this is his last entry, from a couple hours ago.”

  Well, the ambulance and fire department just showed up. I’ve been loaded into an ambulance and I’m going to be strapped to the stretcher with four straps. After that, I don’t think I’m going to get another chance to post…

  But based on the news on CNN and BBC World News, it doesn’t look like they’ll be able to do much for me. If I’m lucky, I’ll get a bullet, but odds are, I’ll wind up bound to a gurney somewhere until I turn into something resembling that guy who bit me.

  If that’s the case, I just wanted to say to my family that I love them very much, and I’m sorry if my lifestyle hurt you in any way, Dad. I love you with all my heart and I’m sorry if I disappointed you.

  Mom, thanks for all the support over the years, it’s made all the difference.

  “Pretty disturbing, isn’t it? Doesn’t sound much like Rabies, does it?” Evelyn said.

  “No…I really feel for that poor SOB.”

  They had just finished dinner when a scream split the air. Xander walked to the window and peeked through the blinds. A businesswoman leaving the LRT station was being pursued by a pair of infected. Xander wondered to himself why she was out and about by herself.

  She hobbled along on her high heels, fumbling in her purse at the same time for her car keys.

  Evelyn came to the window. “What is it?”

  “Some poor lady is being chased by a couple infected.” He walked to the bedroom and got his AR-7.

  “Well, do something!” Evelyn yelled.

  “I am,” Xander calmly replied.

  He slid open the patio door and stepped out. He brought the rifle to his shoulder and aimed. He fired and the first shot missed both infected. He fired again and hit one of them in the shoulder. It didn’t even slow down. Xander fired quickly, sending half a dozen rounds their way. Luckily, one of them connected and the taller of the two infected dropped to the ground. For a moment, Xander thought he had killed it, but it shifted its weight and stood up. It glanced around, as if seeking the source of the shots.

  It turned and appeared to stare directly into Xander’s soul and growled. The other infected turned too and headed in Xander’s direction.

  The businesswoman had made it to her car and got the door open. She jumped in, fired up the engine and took off, tires squealing. Both infected turned towards Xander’s building. A police siren cut through the night. Xander laid his AR-7 on the sofa inside the apartment and went back to the balcony. A few seconds after he got back outside, a pair of cruisers suddenly appeared. Their brakes screamed and the cars skidded to a stop about 20 feet away from the pair of infected. Four cops jumped out of the cars and stood behind the opened doors. They raised their weapons and waited as the infected closed the distance. After what seemed like forever, one of them shouted, “Open fire!”

  Four shots from their pistols rang out. Each of the infected dropped to the ground like a marionette with its strings cut. They looked around the area and didn’t see any more infected. They stood there for a minute or two, and out of the darkness, almost a dozen more infected appeared stumbling towards them. Again, the police officers waited until they were agonizingly close and then opened fire. One by one, the infected dwindled to ten, then seven, then five, then three. They were only a couple of feet away from the officers when the last was cut down. Again they waited for a few minutes, and when no more infected appeared, the officers got back in their cars and left the area. They never even looked up at Xander, perched on his balcony watching the carnage below.

  ---------

  Dan was watching TV in the break room at the precinct just after midnight. Both he and Ed had decided to stay here instead of in their suddenly empty homes. The North Division station was quieter than usual – but Dan couldn’t blame the increasing number of police officers who chose to stay home instead of coming in for their shifts, given what had happened to his own family.

  On the TV, every channel had the same story, news about the outbreak that was global in scope. He flipped channels, hoping for lighter fare while he gobbled down some food. Nothing. Either the channel carried news conferences or that annoying Emergency Broadcast message. He finally stopped at CBC News and watched a re-broadcast of a new conference with a representative of the Centers for Disease Control in Atlanta.

  “The biggest difference between this pandemic and others is that most diseases generally cause debilitating effects on the victim, preventing them from further spreading the pathogen, although they may spread it through fluid transmission. This disease is different in that, initially, it does incapacitate them, but later returns them to a mobile state that enables them to infect others. At this time we cannot determine the pathogen or virus that is directly linked to this reanimation of victims,” he stated flatly. “Based on its rapid spread around the globe and our inability to locate patient zero, we have ruled out any possibility of a bio-attack, either by a terrorist organization or nation state. Countries all over the world are afflicted by this scourge, from North America to Asia to Europe to Australia.

  “We have had no success in reversing infections or healing those infected. Something in the bite causes a necrosis in cellular structure that eventually leads to death, assuming the wound isn’t severe enough to do so on its own,” he continued. “I’ll take a few questions now.�
��

  The reporters in the room clamored for his attention. He pointed to a stylish middle-aged woman in the front row.

  “Diane?”

  “Diane Stilwell, CNN. What steps are Federal authorities taking to deal with this epidemic?” she asked.

  “We have requested quarantine orders for a dozen cities nationwide. The armed forces are expected to assist in this quarantine. Health organizations are receiving stocks of needed supplies, as some anti-viral drugs have been noted to slow the necrotic effect. FEMA is also deploying its crisis teams to some of the worst hit areas. Law enforcement authorities are asking the public to stay home and lock your doors. People going out and encountering these individuals are only making matters worse. They wind up either murdering friends and neighbors, or becoming infected themselves, further compounding the problem,” he replied.

  “Jon?”

  “Jonathan Hunter, Fox News. Are there any plans to shut down flights around the country?”

  “I believe that has been discussed, but I do not know if a decision has been reached as of yet. I can tell you that quarantined cities will not be receiving any new flights, as that is part of the quarantine procedure,” he said. “Flights to those cities may land at other nearby airports, but nothing will land inside any quarantine zones.”

  On the bottom of the screen, Dan noticed that the news crawl already flashed a message in red, “FAA shuts down airspace over USA, Canadian government to follow, all commercial flights cancelled until further notice!” He glanced back to the news conference.