by David Bourne
He saw the ramp to the exit of the parking garage, and without slowing down, the driver continued to race towards it. The shocks couldn’t stand the weight and the speed, and the bottom of the vehicle bounced against the concrete pavement. Josh felt certain the axle was broken but fortunately, the emergency medical vehicle was tough and withstood such a punishing bounce.
It got lighter. Daylight, at last Both of them raced out of the underground parking garage. The paramedic yanked the steering wheel around and turned onto the plaza in front of the hospital.
Josh couldn’t believe his eyes: On the ground, there were partially eaten human corpses in medical uniforms or hospital gowns everywhere. Some rose up in spite of enormous wounds and staggered around. Directly in front of the vehicle, they saw one of these jabbering beasts, but they simply swept it out of the way. The driver did his best to avoid the corpses and the walking undead. He steered the vehicle to the left at high speed and turned into St. Michael Street, but things didn’t look any better here. Everywhere, there were cars with open doors or smashed windows, and the street was covered in half-eaten bodies. The driver made another turn into a narrow alley near the hospital. Not a bad idea, as the park is behind it.
The paramedic seemed to know where he wanted to go. He drove through the alley and then steered the vehicle, which had amazing off-road capabilities, across the large meadow in the park behind the hospital. Josh looked around in all directions—there was no human soul in sight. He took a deep breath and then glanced at the man who had saved him.
The paramedic’s eyes were so wide open that Josh thought they could pop out of his head at any time, and he saw a name tag on his uniform: Cruz.
“Wow, Cruz, you sure know how to drive.”
The driver, in his frenzy, looked back at Josh, as he himself had not even realized his daredevil driving had saved both of their lives. Josh kept talking to him, and he seemed to slowly grasp the fact that they had managed to escape for the time being.
“What’s happening here? We had an accident victim in our EMS vehicle, and then he suddenly attacked us. They have all gone crazy!”
Josh told Cruz what had happened to him. He told of Doc and the nurse who had been devoured in front of his eyes. He also told him he had seen a helicopter, and that his father was in the military. He tried to convince Cruz to drive him home first and then to the military base.
Cruz would have none of that. He wanted to reach his family in Lewiston—a wife and two daughters. He offered to drop Josh off near his house on the way there, and Josh gratefully accepted. His parents had a ranch house in Ring Hill, a small nearby village. There wasn’t much to see there besides a few dozen families, a gas station, and a grocery store on Main Street.
The drive there was without incident as nobody seemed to be on the road. This was quite surprising, considering what was going on in the city, and Josh had expected all the roads to be full of fleeing people. Why is nobody fleeing? The madness appeared to have not reached the suburbs yet.
Cruz let Josh out at the street leading to Ring Hill, and from there, it wasn’t far to his parents’ house. Josh thanked him and wished Cruz good luck for himself and his family, plus he also gave him his ax. Cruz was astonished by his gesture, but Josh assured him the Pelletier family had better alternatives for defending themselves. He didn’t mention, though, that he thought it was foolhardy to drive into Lewiston. If the situation there was similar to the one in Augusta, it would be sheer suicide.
Josh (12)
Josh watched the EMS vehicle speed away. Suicide, he pondered as he shook his head. Then he jogged toward his parents’ house.
As usual, the front door was not locked. He opened the screen door first and then the main door itself. “MOM? DAD? Josh called out. No answer. My God! Mom! Maybe she was still at the hospital!
“MOM?” Josh called out in vain, realizing now he was completely alone. He felt like the most miserable person on the face of the earth. I actually forgot my own mother. In such an extreme situation, he had only focused on saving his own skin and wasted no thought for his mother. He was racked by despair and collapsed sobbing to the floor.
After a while, Josh had calmed down enough to get up. He walked through the hallway to the kitchen, and there he discovered a note on the counter:
Margaret, Josh. Whoever reads this, I have been ordered to the base. Some weird shit is happening here. I tried to reach you on your cell phones. Take the car and come to the base ASAP. Pack a few things and hurry! Don’t stop anywhere, and don’t pick up people you don’t know. My old Colt is in the nightstand. You may need it.
Dad
It was the old Colt pistol that had belonged to Josh’s grandfather, and what Josh had learned to shoot with. Grandpa had received the intricately decorated Colt M 1911 in recognition of his service during World War Two. The grip of the weapon was nickel-plated, and the slide was chrome-plated.
After Josh looked around the house to make sure he was alone, he hurriedly packed a few useful things. He grabbed the next best backpack he could find. Food and weapons—what else? It was not far to the Army base, so Josh only took two bottles of water and some canned food from the pantry. Then he went upstairs to his parents’ bedroom and took the pistol out of the nightstand where his dad usually kept it. He inserted the magazine into the grip and checked the ammo status. There’s only seven shots—not very many, but I don’t plan to get into a gunfight with someone. He looked for the holster of the weapon. When he finally found it in the closet, he attached it to a leather belt and slipped the Colt in it.
He casually glanced out the window and saw two figures walking in the street near the driveway to the house. They were not moving very fast, but Josh couldn’t tell from this distance whether or not they were zombies. Zombies! Josh still couldn’t get quite used to the idea, but his brain couldn’t find any other explanation for all of this. The figures were slowly walking towards Augusta, which was the opposite direction from where Josh wanted to go to next. If they only knew what is happening there. What does the rest of America look like? He turned on the small tube TV in the bedroom, and the sound came before the image appeared:
“...and we still keep receiving disturbing news from cities all over the country. There have been indescribable acts of violence. People seem to attack each other for no reason and display enormous levels of aggression. Let’s go live to Liz, who is on the roof of our studio in New York.”
Josh could see a local reporter who stared bravely into the camera while waiting for her connection.
“Liz, what is the situation like in New York?”
“Tom? It is sheer madness. Anarchy has broken out in the streets. We have exclusive material from Times Square, where a few minutes ago several people seemed to have attacked random passers-by. What initially looked like some absurd flash mob turned serious very quickly. These people were extremely violent.”
A video followed depicting scenes similar to what Josh had witnessed at the hospital. He was riveted by these images of people who attacked other humans and appeared to show no mercy. A sudden scratching sound coming from the ground floor made Josh sit up and take notice. Damn it!
He glanced out the window. The people in the street were no longer visible. Did they change their mind and walk over here? Josh pulled out the pistol and slowly tiptoed to the stairs. He looked down and listened for further noises. Nothing.
He quietly walked down the stairs and held his weapon at the ready. Aim calmly and then shoot, Josh repeated in his mind like a mantra.
When he was halfway down the stairs, he stopped and listened again. He could only hear the muted voice of the TV reporter from upstairs.
Suddenly, he heard glass shatter. Startled, Josh whirled around towards the kitchen door. A shot went off with a loud bang and hit the door frame. A shadowy outline raced through the door, along the hallway and out of the front door. Josh stared in confusion and then realized it had only been a stupid fucking cat.
His
heart still hammered in his chest, but then he slowly calmed down. Six shots left. I really should get out of here. Without further delay, Josh grabbed the backpack and the car keys and left the house. Dusk had already fallen during the drive with Cruz, and now it was even darker outside.
The pickup was parked in front of the garage. Josh got in, sat behind the steering wheel and started the engine. The fuel gauge showed that the tank was about half full. That should be enough. The military base was only sixty miles away, directly behind a large forest. Let’s go.
Scott (13)
Scott followed the road to his parents’ house. Along the way, there were several cars parked across the road or lying on their sides. Sometimes, the doors were open and disemboweled bodies could be seen inside. He didn’t want to look to see if they were still moving. He would have rather kept his eyes closed to avoid seeing his hometown in such miserable condition, but he had to focus on the road.
Ben and Martha Gerber didn’t live too far away, as their house was located on the outskirts of town, and Scott reached his destination within fifteen minutes. It was a massive log building with a chimney of red bricks, and Scott recalled how carefully his father had selected the lumber—the Gerbers had always appreciated wood. He charged up the driveway and jumped out of his pickup with his ax in his hand. One of the monsters was already standing in front of the house. Without a word, Scott smashed the ax handle into its face, and the beast went down. He used this moment to reach the front door. He felt complete disgust. This madness simply won’t end.
Scott banged his fist several times against the door. “MOM! DAD? WHERE ARE YOU? OPEN THE DAMNED DOOR!”
The door opened, and his mother swiftly pulled him inside. “Mom, thank heavens!” Scott tossed the ax aside, pulled his mother closer and hugged her.
Tears streamed down her face. She repeated his name again and again and cried. He also got teary-eyed. “What’s going on here, Sonny? I’ve heard screams all morning, and this... thing was walking through our yard. The telephone is out of order, and I couldn’t reach anyone.”
Suddenly, she said something that made him gasp. “There’s something wrong with your dad. He attacked me, and I had to lock him in the bedroom.”
Scott swallowed hard. “Mom, are you injured?”
His mother smiled at him bravely. “No, it’s hardly anything, just a little scratch on my shoulder.”
“How long have you had that?” Scott stammered.
“It just happened right before you got here.”
“Now, listen to me and think carefully,” Scott implored her. “Did he bite you?” Scott Gerber was afraid of what his mother might answer. He rubbed his temples with his hands and tried to calm down, as they might have only a few minutes left.
“I fell on my shoulder. Your dad didn’t bite me,” Martha said. “Please—just explain to me what is going on.” Scott was incredibly relieved, while also worried about his father, Jane and Sam.
“Mom, I will tell you all I know in a moment, but first, where are Jane and Sam? Are they alright?”
His mother looked at him. “I don’t know. She wanted to leave on her bike when everything started out there. There was a lot of commotion in the street all morning. People were attacking and tearing each other apart like animals. Your dad was out there and tried to help., but when he came back in, he was holding his arm.”
Martha swallowed hard. It was apparent that it was hard for her to tell this story. “Jane accompanied him upstairs because Ben was dizzy and felt ill. I told Sam he should wait down here, and then the two rode off.”
Scott didn’t interrupt her, even though he could barely stand it.
“We wanted to take care of Ben, but suddenly he started to jerk and snap with his teeth. We put him in the bedroom and locked the door.”
“So he tried to bite you, but he didn’t succeed, did he?” Scott asked.
“Yes, Sonny,” Martha answered sadly. “Jane tried many times to reach you, but the network was down. She and Sam were very worried about you.”
Scott walked towards his mother, placed his arm around her shoulder and hugged her. She put her hand on his arm.
“We didn’t know what to do. Jane said she wanted to go get you and took Sam with her. I told her it was too dangerous, but she wouldn’t listen. They got on their bikes and simply left. Just like that. I saw them disappear at the end of the street. They were trying to get away from the sick people—the sick ones couldn’t catch up to them.”
Were these creatures still even human?, Scott wondered.
“We really tried all morning to call you.” His mother started to cry, as if she were ashamed. Scott embraced and comforted her.
“I know, mom, I know. I’ll find them. Jane is clever. She will hide, and you know how tough the Gerbers are. Sam will protect his mother.”
He himself wanted to believe what he had just told his mom, but he felt his heart beating faster again. Scott wondered how he should proceed. How could you tell a wife exactly what has happened to her husband? Maybe there’s some hope left. If I only could take dad to a doctor. He told his mother about Betty Wilkes and what had happened on their street. It had taken about twenty minutes for his neighbor to undergo her transformation, but again he wasn’t absolutely sure.
Martha Gerber’s face turned ashen. Maybe she already suspected her husband’s condition was no normal disease. She stood in front of her son and looked into his eyes.
“Sonny, your dad and I tried all our lives to be decent people, as far as I can figure out. Your dad is a good Christian, and he would never deliberately hurt me or Jane.”
Scott knew how his father must have acted. His mother probably couldn’t comprehend what was happening, but how should she? His neighbor and the other beasts out there seemed to be only interested in feeding and killing.
“You have to take care of your dad. We have to somehow get him to a doctor.”
Scott nodded in agreement.
When he reached the stairs, he already heard a loud scratching behind the bedroom door. What should he do now? His own father would probably attack him soon. He grabbed his ax and went upstairs, while his mother followed him at a safe distance. Scott put the ax on the floor in front of the door, unlocked it and turned the door knob.
The bedroom felt warm. The queen-size bed was neatly covered with a quilt. The photos on the wall depicted scenes from happier times. A bible was on the nightstand, and he instantly knew it belonged to his mom. Scott still remembered all of these things from his childhood. When he was a little boy and couldn’t sleep, he used to sneak into his parents’ bedroom and crawl into their bed. Sometimes when he was afraid, his mother would read him a story. It was horrible to see his father in this room, who no doubt had become one of these monsters. Ben Gerber stood at the window that looked out over the garden. Blood was dripping from his father’s mouth. He stared at Scott with blank, empty eyes and uttered a rattling, whistling sound. It reminded him of the warning sounds emitted by a snake or a lizard. Scott watched him for a second, and was reminded that he obviously shared his father’s genes. Ben Gerber was almost six foot six tall and in spite of his sixty-nine years, he was still in great shape. Only his body wasn’t here anymore. The disease—or whatever it was—had completely consumed him. One couldn’t tell for certain if he still recognized his son. He jerked uncontrollably, as if a sadistic puppeteer constantly exposed him to electric shocks.
Ben moved towards his son. “Dad?” Scott asked. “Dad, can you hear me?” Scott received no answer. With his mouth wide open, his father spat blood on the floor. His hands were distorted into claw-like appendages. Just as Ben stood in front of his son with a monstrous expression and tried to bite him, Scott launched himself at him. Both landed hard on the wooden floor. Tears formed on Scott’s face as he grasped his father tightly. He realized in that moment the father he had known would never exist again.
“Thank you for taking me fishing, dad,” Scott’s voice quavered. “Thank you fo
r going to football games with me. And thank you for not telling mom when you once caught me smoking. I love you, dad.”
Scott leaped up and ran out the bedroom door. His father raised his upper body and slowly got up. Scott looked at his mother, who was standing on the stairs with her hands in front of her mouth. Then he grabbed his ax again.
“Mom, please step back. Go down—away from the stairs.” He went back into the bedroom in order to lure his father, and it worked. Suddenly, Ben Gerber lunged wildly at Scott in order to grab him. Scott lost his balance and fell backwards onto the floor. His father lurched forward and leaped at him. Scott yelled loudly and rolled himself into a ball. He was afraid that this was the end for him, but, his father also lost his balance. His body tumbled down the stairs and he landed face-first against the floor tiles.
Blood squirted and covered part of the floor. Ben Gerber lay on the floor and moved his legs as if he wanted to continue walking. Scott immediately jumped up and ran downstairs. Then he saw it: His father stared directly at him, even though he was lying on his belly. His head had turned almost 180 degrees. The fall had broken his neck, but he still tried to attack his son. Martha Gerber turned away when she saw her husband lying there like that. She cried and kneeled down, her face hidden between her hands.
Scott could not avert his eyes. What is happening in this world? His father still violently twitched like a fish out of water and tried to get up.
“Mom, get out of here right now,” Scott ordered.
“But Scott, if we could just...” Martha sobbed.
“Mom, go right now. Please.” She left the room.
Scott saw how horribly mangled his father’s spine looked. No normal human being could have survived this condition. He was no doctor or paramedic, but he could see that parts of the spine stuck out of the neck, like a compound fracture on a leg. The ax was firmly in Scott’s hand. Is there no chance to do anything? He couldn’t think of a quick solution . He could still hear the awful moaning and smacking sound coming from his father’s mouth—it almost drove him crazy. Ben Gerber repeatedly tried to get up, but his physical condition didn’t allow it. Scott walked over to his father and placed a hand on his head. He almost felt as if this calmed him down for a short moment. Then he swung the axe and struck his father in the head with it. His father stopped moving. Scott closed his eyes as tears streamed down his face. He left the room and went to his mother. His hands holding the axe trembled. Blood was dripping off of the ax blade.
