Plague of the Living Dead (The Z-Day Trilogy Book 3)
Page 3
“I don’t like this, Norman. There is something definitely not right with her.”
“I think we should get back to the ambulance. This feels too familiar. We need to get back in the ambulance and call for the police. Let them deal with her.”
“I agree,” said Sean. “We’re not trained for something like this.” Sean turned to head back to the ambulance and was immediately knocked down by an elderly man, dripping blood from a laceration on the side of his face. He fell on top of the paramedic. He let out a low, frustrated moan before taking a bite out of Sean’s face. His flesh tore with a wet, sucking sound. He screamed as he watched the elderly man swallow his flesh and come back down for another bite.
Norman didn’t see his partner get attacked by the man. He was focused on getting back inside the ambulance and calling for help. He reached the ambulance and jumped inside to retrieve his cell phone and was about to call his friend at the precinct, when his arm was grabbed and he was forcibly removed from the ambulance. It was the elderly woman. This time he had a better view of her face. She looked as though she had died several days ago and had come back to life. He could see she was wearing dentures; they were hanging loosely in her mouth. She was hissing softly at him and trying to bite him at the same time. He pushed her backward away from him. He tried to jump back inside the ambulance, but she once again grabbed him. This time she had a hold of the back of his uniform shirt and was forcing him toward her. He tried to fight her, but she was too strong. He felt her dentures touching his back and then the sensation was gone. The dentures had freed themselves from her mouth and fell to the ground.
He turned around in a panic and punched her squarely across the bridge of her nose. He heard something snap and she fell limp to the ground. He wasn’t sure what had just happened but he was relieved. He felt fortunate her dentures had fallen out of her mouth, or she might have taken a huge chunk out of his body. He turned to locate his partner, but he was nowhere in sight. He made his way to the other side of the ambulance and stopped frozen in terror. His partner was lying on the ground in a pool of his own blood with a man on top of him, tearing chunks of flesh off of his body. He lifted his partner’s arm and shoved it into his mouth and bit down. Blood squirted all over the side of the ambulance. Norman fought back the urge to vomit and coughed. The man stopped feasting on his partner’s body and looked up at him. Strips of bloodied flesh were dangling from his lips. Norman screamed and spat hot vomit in a sea of horror. He turned and ran into the nearby woods away from the gruesome scene. He didn’t know if he was being followed, but he kept running as fast as his legs could muster. He kept running until he saw a house with its lights on in the distance.
He reached the house; it was secluded from the rest of civilization. He ran to the front door and saw it was open. He opened it the rest of the way and entered. He called out, hoping somebody would be at home to help him. There wasn’t an answer. He called out again but it rendered the same result. He moved across the living room into the kitchen. He stopped alarmed by a gruesome sight on the kitchen floor. It looked as though the family cat had been mostly devoured and was left there to decompose. He now figured the man and woman on the road must have come from this house. He was about to leave the kitchen and search for a phone when he heard a sound from outside of the house. He went back to the front door and peered out. He didn’t see anything. He held his breath and listened. He heard the noise once again, but this time it sounded like it was coming from the back of the house. He stood there wondering what he should do. He thought about leaving the house and trying to find another one, but something was telling him to investigate the sound.
He made his way to the back of the house where he thought the sound was coming from and stopped to listen. He heard the sound again and this time he could tell what it was. It sounded like a low whimpering sound as if something was wounded. It was coming from behind a closed door at the end of the hall. He made his way toward the door and stopped outside of it. He put his ear against it and listened. He could hear heavy breathing coming from the other side. He got down on his stomach and tried to look underneath the door but he couldn’t see anything. Again he heard the heavy breathing but even louder now. Whatever it was, it was directly in front of the door on the other side. He stood back up and put his hand on the doorknob and then stopped. Something inside him was telling him to turn around and leave the house. There had to be some explanation for why the door was closed in the first place. He turned away from the door and was about to leave when he heard the whimpering sound again. It sounded as though something was in excruciating pain. He turned back to the door and turned the knob before common sense told him to stop.
He pushed open the door until it collided with something lying on the floor. He looked down and saw a medium-sized dog lying there with one leg missing. It was lying in a pool of its own blood. It looked up at him and tried to move its head. He bent over the dog to reassure it everything was going to be all right. As he did, the dog growled loudly and tried to move. He jumped back from it and turned to run and ran into the waiting arms of the elderly man he had encountered on the road. He grabbed Norman tightly and took a bite from his shoulder. A crimson rain burst from the wound and Norman passed out from the pain. He heard a shot echo throughout the house as he hit the floor.
Dixon Rush stood over the zombie’s body making sure it was dead. He pointed his shotgun toward the dog and fired two shots. He had put the dog out of its misery. He looked at Norman lying on the ground and thought about blasting one through his head but he had second thoughts. He hoped perhaps he could tell him what was going on and why he had to kill his neighbor for attacking him.
He searched the house looking for clues. He found the cat in the kitchen looking as though it had become someone’s dinner. He sat at the table and pulled out a cigarette and lit it. He exhaled and looked around the kitchen. It had been a long while since he had been in his neighbor’s kitchen. His late wife was the only reason he had ever visited this house. Once she died, he stayed mostly to himself, disregarding any of the friends he once had. He preferred it that way. He enjoyed being alone. People only seemed to annoy him and get in his way. The only contact with people he ever had was when he went to the grocery store for supplies.
He heard the stranger coming to from the other side of the house and got up to check on him. He found Norman lying on the ground growling at him.
“Damn! You’re not going to be able to answer any of my questions.” He steadied his weapon and pointed it at Norman’s head. “I’m sorry I have to do this; I truly am.” He fired the shot and watched as Norman’s head exploded on impact.
Dixon left the house and headed back to his own. He knew he was dealing with some sort of disease turning people into monsters. He didn’t like the fact it was happening at his back door. He knew what he had to do. He had to head to his bomb shelter, lock the door behind him, and stay there until he knew it was once again safe to leave it. The last thing he wanted to do was fall victim to whatever had happened to his neighbor. He knew he would have enough supplies to last him for at least two years. He hoped he wouldn’t have to hide in his bomb shelter for that long. If he did, he would rather take his own life.
Chapter Five
Ryan Billings switched off the radio and headed for the kitchen to have breakfast with his family. He didn’t care to listen to any more news about what had happened in Indiana. News of that nature bothered him. It bothered him to know exactly what people were capable of doing to other people. All he wanted to do was to forget about it and enjoy the company of his family. He made his way into the kitchen and grabbed his coffee mug with the Bug Assault Pest Control Company logo and filled it with his favorite coffee and took his seat at the table. He looked at his daughter, Emily, who was busy texting her friend on her phone. He looked at her and shook his head.
“Can’t you two have a normal conversation face-to- face?”
His daughter glanced in his direction. “Good mor
ning father. Did you know about what happened in Indiana?”
“More than I care to,” he said, taking a sip of coffee. His wife, Jennifer, placed a plate of hotcakes and sausage in front of him. “This world is getting too violent.”
Emily laughed. “This is coming from somebody who owns a pest control company. How many bugs do you kill in an average year?”
“That is different, Emily. We don’t set off nuclear bombs to wipe them out.”
She put her phone down on the table. “How many miles were affected by the bomb set off in Indiana?”
“At ground zero, everyone for around six miles would be either incinerated or blinded. People living within fifty miles of the blast would be affected in some way. From what I heard on the news, they’re not really sure how many casualties there were from the attack.”
She picked her phone back up and answered a text she had received. “Patricia says it wasn’t done by terrorists. Her father said our government dropped the bomb to stop the zombies that escaped from the park.”
He looked at his wife for a moment who shrugged her shoulders. “I doubt very much our government would set off a nuclear device on its own people. It wouldn’t make any sense. Our government isn’t capable of doing such a thing. Tell Patricia her father is wrong.”
“I don’t know,” she said. “Her father works for the paper.”
“Well, there’s your answer. Mr. Arden is looking for answers. Of course, he’s going to blame the government. Conspiracies involving the government sell newspapers. I suppose he’s blaming President Andrews for the attack.”
“Patricia says her father claims President Andrews authorized the attack.”
He poured some more cream into his coffee to sweeten it. “I still don’t believe it. If you ask me, it was terrorists who did this.”
“Are we in any danger of nuclear fallout?” asked his wife, looking alarmed. “Indiana is the next state over.”
“We should be safe. We’re closer to Missouri than we are to Indiana. They are setting up a quarantine area around all the affected areas in Indiana. Nobody will be allowed anywhere near those areas. It would be like committing suicide to go there. I wouldn’t want to travel anywhere near those areas.”
“Patricia says the wind is going to poison Illinois with radiation,” said Emily. “Her father says they are going to move to California.”
He thought about it for a moment. That was something he hadn’t considered. He wasn’t sure if that was a possibility. He looked at her. “I wouldn’t worry about it right now. If the government informs us we need to move farther away, then we’ll do as they instruct us to do. Until then, I have a business here I have to run.”
“Oh yeah, the Bug Assault Pest Control Company.”
“Don’t mock it, Emily. The company is going to pay for your college in a few years. That reminds me, I have to go out in the field today. Brian needs my help with a large roach job at a factory. Apparently, they are overrun with them. The state has closed them down until the problem is under control.”
“How long will that take?” asked his wife.
“Initial treatment will take a couple of weeks. Total treatment will take around a month or so. This is one of the largest infestations Brian has seen.”
“I’m glad I don’t have to see that. Roaches freak me out. I don’t know how you are able to enter a building full of them.”
“I don’t think about it. I think about all the money it’s making the company. If we didn’t have roaches, we wouldn’t have the nice house and cars we own. Not to mention, we wouldn’t be able to afford to send Emily to college.”
“You’re making bugs sound more appealing than they really are,” said Emily. “God bless the bugs.”
He laughed. “They’re only appealing to us. You better finish your breakfast. You don’t want to be late for school.”
“By the way, I’m going to the mall after school with Patricia. She needs to get some new shoes, and I want to stop by the coffee shop and get a latte. The coffee shop in the mall makes the best ones.”
“Will you be home for dinner?” asked her mother. “I’m making meatloaf. You can ask Patricia to come if you want. I’m making plenty.”
“Probably not. We’re thinking about seeing a movie when we’re done. I’m sure we’ll eat something while we’re out.”
“Don’t be too late, especially if you have any homework. Your grades have to come first.”
“I’ll be home by nine. If I have any homework, I’ll do it then.”
Emily stood next to Patricia’s locker waiting for her to grab her book for first period. They had first period together on social studies. She had a feeling class would evolve around the incident in Indiana that morning. It was the only conversation she heard in the halls while walking to class. Neither of them understood much about it, only what was being reported.
They took their places in the classroom as the morning bell rang. Their teacher, Mr. Patterson, stood in front of the class looking at them solemnly. He stood there looking at the faces of all of his students.
“I’m not sure what to say,” he began. “Once again we’re experiencing a sad day in history. This is the second time in recent years we have experienced something of this magnitude in America. I never thought I would live to see the day when a nuclear device would be detonated on American soil. The loss of life is devastating. Even though they haven’t reported the death toll, we can assume it’s in the thousands. We’re going to discuss human nature and the kind of people who could commit such an act of cowardness today. First, I need to know if anybody needs to see the counselor this morning. Her services are being offered to anybody who feels they need someone to talk to.” He waited for several minutes to see if anybody needed to leave.
The class remained silent and the students stared at one another, waiting to see if anybody was going to take the opportunity to leave the class. Everybody remained in their seats and turned their attention to their teacher.
“All right, I want you to take out your text books and turn to page 236. This chapter deals with terrorists and people who commit crimes in the name of their God.”
After class, Emily walked with Patricia back to her locker. They walked by several members of the football team standing in a large group, discussing what they would do if they came face-to-face with a terrorist. The quarterback claimed he would take a lead pipe and bash the terrorist’s head in. Emily laughed. Leave it to the star quarterback to say something like that. She waited as Patricia grabbed another book before heading to their next class. She just wanted the day to end. She couldn’t understand why they even had class in the first place. Nobody was able to concentrate with everything that had happened. She had a feeling she knew what everybody was thinking. They were all thinking something like it could happen in their own neighborhood. She didn’t want to think about it, but it was stuck in the back of her mind. She followed Patricia to their next class after stopping by her locker. She hoped math class would take her mind off of everything.
Brian was busy loading the bug truck when Mr. Billings arrived at the office. He had some time to kill before they had to leave, so he decided to catch up on some paperwork he had left undone. As he thumbed through the stack of papers on his desk, Brian came into the office.
“The truck is loaded. Are you ready for a long day?”
Mr. Billings pushed the stack to the side. “I’m as ready as I will ever be. Have you studied the map of the place? I want to hit the boiler room and kitchen areas first.”
“The place is teeming with hot spots,” said Brian. “I took the tour when I sold the job. It was a complete nightmare. It was like something you would see in a cheap horror film. The owner hired us because he liked our company name.”
“Do we have enough bait gel and dust for the job?”
“Linda made sure she had ordered enough supplies for the entire job. Do you want to leave early? I have the keys. I just want to get in there and get it started
.”
“There’s no harm in leaving early. I guess the paperwork can wait another day.” He put the stack of papers inside his desk and stood up. “I’ll leave a note for Linda that we left early.”
Brian sat in the truck waiting for Mr. Billings. Once his boss was in the truck, he headed off for the job. On the way, he turned to look at his boss.
“That’s what I like about you. You care about your employees and don’t care if they get to a job early or how long it takes to do a job.”
“Why should I. As long as you get the job done and you make the company money, it doesn’t matter.”
They reached the job and Brian parked near one of the doors. He had been given the keys to the place so they would be alone while they did the job. They gathered everything they would need and entered the building.
They made their way first to the employee break room where Brian knew they would be spending some time treating. Mr. Billings’ eyes widened as he saw the infestation inside the room. There were so many roaches crawling around, they didn’t have any areas left to hide. He looked at Brian. “Well, let’s get started.”
They readied their gear and took opposite sides of the room to start their treatment. Mr. Billings thought about the very first roach job he was involved with. It was at a meat packaging plant. The entire plant was infested, costing the company thousands of dollars in infected meat. He remembered how long it took to effectively treat the plant. It was a nightmare, but when the entire process was completed, the plant was able to resume their operations. His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of something crashing to the floor outside of the room. They looked at each other, surprised by the noise.
“Did you lock the door behind us?” asked Mr. Billings, putting his equipment down on a table.