Vaccination - 01

by Phillip Tomasso

  I yelled at Janet, “Where the hell is 911?”

  “They said they are busy at the moment, but call back in fifteen minutes.”

  My mind reeled. I looked out again and saw the old man had gotten up from his kill, the front of his shirt completely covered in his victim’s blood. He began his shuffling around again and I could not believe he was staying near the body. I watched as a neighbor came out and walked over to the fence. The old man made a moaning sound and lurched toward the neighbor. Get out of there! I silently screamed at the neighbor. The neighbor held out a hand to the old man over the fence and when the old man got close enough, he grabbed the hand and promptly bit the arm it was attached to! The neighbor yanked his hand back, and ran toward his house, screaming bloody murder all the way.

  “Jesus Christ!” I yelled again, not understanding what I had just witnessed. Janet again poked her head around the corner.

  “What now?” She asked.

  “The old man who just killed that woman, was eating her and the neighbor came out and the old man bit him, too!”

  “What?”

  “I’m serious! Right there! Look!”

  Janet came over to the window. She glanced out and nearly gagged. “Oh, God!” she said, covering her mouth with her hand. The woman’s body wasn’t pretty. Her face and neck were covered in blood and bites, and there was a raw open wound in her stomach. Entrails were hanging by her sides like blue-grey ropes.

  “What did 911 say?” I asked, turning her away from the window. “Exactly, what did they say?”

  Janet refocused, “They said that they had received numerous calls, and were dealing with them as quickly as they could. If it was not a life-threatening emergency, then we would have to wait.”

  I looked at the scene across the street. I guessed the waiting for help to arrive had just started. I decided I needed to get home and get with my family right now. I said as much to Janet and suggested that she leave right now as well. She didn’t argue with me, having three children of her own waiting for her at home.

  As I packed up to leave, I looked out the window again. The old man was gone, and so was the woman. Blood was all over the grass, turning brown in the sun. I guess 911 came to the rescue after all. Hope the guy with the bite on his arm was okay.

  As I walked out into the parking lot, I was struck by how quiet everything was. I didn’t hear any trains going by; I didn’t hear any kids playing. Unusual for this neighborhood. I did hear an odd moaning, but I figured that was the wind. As I got to my car, I thought I heard several pops, like someone lighting off fireworks. It came from the east, where the hospital and clinic were, but I didn’t think anything of it.

  As I drove home, I kept the radio off. I kept replaying what I had seen in my head and nothing added up. What would make an old man attack someone like that? Alzheimer’s did not turn people violent, and most certainly did not turn them into cannibals. I was so lost in thought I barely felt my cell phone vibrating. It was Ellie. I snapped it open, not sure of what I was going to tell her. “Hey, you!”

  “Hey, John. Just wanted to touch base with you. I’m still at Cost Go right now and have picked up a lot of things. Is there anything else you think we need?”

  “Off the top of my head, just extra batteries for the flashlights and the toys, some extra medicine stuff like aspirin and baby cold medicines for Jakey.” My voice shook a little as I spoke to her.

  “Are you sure? That seems like a lot.” Ellie seemed skeptical and reluctant to spend so much.”

  “Trust me; I’d rather be on the safe side. Look at it this way; you won’t have to go shopping for a while.” I tried to be humorous, but I kept seeing that old man attacking that poor woman. Jesus, what the hell?

  “All right,” Ellie said. “I’ll see you at home.”

  A thought occurred to me. “I may be home a little later. I want to make a couple of stops.”

  “Right. Pizza okay for dinner?”

  “Sure.”

  “Bye now.”

  “Bye.”

  I looked to see where I was and I realized that I needed to get over quickly to catch the interstate. I had three stops to make, and would need to move fast to get home in time for dinner. As I merged on the interstate, I noticed there was a lot of traffic leaving the city, but that seemed normal. It was a Friday, and people generally left the city for relatives and other places. I caught the ramp to another highway, and moved toward the street I needed. I briefly hoped that I would be able to get through the traffic quickly, but one never knew.

  My first stop was a little shop tucked away behind a gas station. It had two floors, and the first floor was devoted to fishing gear. Anything you needed for fishing except boats could be found there. I wasn’t interested in fishing gear. I needed what was on the second floor. I went up and found the place to be slightly more crowded than usual. Racks of rifles and shotguns lined a display behind the counter, which held a wide variety of handguns. As I worked my way to the back of the store, I caught snippets of conversation.

  “Heard it’s spread to three cities now…”

  “What’s this I hear about London and dead people?”

  “What’s the damn government gonna do, set up another committee?”

  “Can we waive the waiting period?”

  I stopped in front of the reloading supplies and looked around. Guns, I didn’t need, but ammo was another story. I grabbed two cans of powder, two boxes of primers, and a box of 1000, 180gr HP 40 cal bullets. I worked the supplies over to the counter and waited for a salesman to notice me.

  An older gentleman came by and asked me if I found everything I was looking for.

  “Sure did. You guys are doing a good business these days?”

  His eyes glanced into mine briefly. “Never seen nothing like it. Something’s got folks jittery.”

  “Yeah, something,” I said, lamely.

  “Follow yer gut, I always say,” said the old man, grabbing a couple of bags for my purchase.

  I winced inwardly. What if your guts were being ripped out? Chase after the bastard who did the ripping?

  I signed the receipt and headed out to the car. As I was putting the supplies into the trunk, I noticed several more cars pull into the parking lot. Maybe we all are following our gut this time.

  I pulled back onto the interstate and headed south. I needed to make another stop before I headed home, and I wanted to make as much time as possible. So, I ramped it up to 80 and rocketed down the highway. The main mess of traffic had left at the interstate junction and the only people heading downstate or across the state were on the road. I finally decided to turn the radio on.

  “In world news today, there is a state of emergency in Africa. The Enillo Virus has already claimed 3,000,000 lives, and more are expected to drop, as countries which up till now have been focused on military matters, now turn their attention to this growing crisis. In Europe, Spain and Portugal have closed their borders, and England is no longer allowing any international flights to land. Thousands of French have fled the country to the north, hoping to cross the English Channel to perceived safety. French officials have denied reports that Paris is being overrun with infected persons, but several videos have surfaced on the Internet. The grimmest scenes are filmed, posted on the Internet and viewers are cautioned, as they are highly graphic. In Asia, China and North Korea have officially closed their borders, and North Korea has issued a statement that any foreigners will be shot trying to cross into their country. President Trottman is expected to address the United States this evening. In business news, the stock market took a sharp turn as investors began a big late afternoon sell off. Gary?”

  I switched the radio off. What the hell was going on? Was the Enillo Virus as bad as all that? I began to worry about Ellie. She worked at a hospital in the city and would have to go to work tomorrow. If viruses hit the US, she’d be right in the crosshairs.

  Lost in my reverie, I nearly missed the exit. A truck was pulled over t
o the side of the road and it blocked my view of the sign nearly before it was too late. The driver was sitting behind the wheel, but as I flashed past, he raised a hand to the window. I waved back and zipped down the exit.

  At my next stop, I decided to buy ammo directly, and to hell with the cost. I grabbed up all of the hunting ammo they had for the 30 carbine and the target stuff too. I left two boxes on the shelf, figuring to be kind if anyone came after me looking for it. I noticed the shelves were empty of .223 ammo and 5.54x39 ammo.

  The clerk’s eyes didn’t even flicker when I brought the ammo to him. “Will that be all?” he asked, reaching for my credit card.

  I tried to make small talk. “Selling a lot of ammo these days?”

  He smiled. “Quite a bit. Must be a competition or something coming up.”

  “Could be,” I said. “Could you double bag that, I’d hate to have it spill all over the parking lot.

  “Sure.”

  I thanked him and took the ammo to my trunk. As I backed out of my spot, I noticed an older employee come to the door with a sign that read, “Cash only for sales, please.” I thanked God for my timely purchase and headed back to the road. One more stop and I would head home. I turned the radio back on.

  “…reports are coming in from Africa that infected people are reportedly falling into deep comas, then reviving and getting up. They are allegedly attacking anyone around them, except for other victims. We have heard reports of horrific violence, and the entire continent seems to be on the verge of collapse. For exclusive videos and uploads, please visit our website for the latest information.”

  I turned the radio off as I sped down the back roads to the last gun shop I wanted to visit. I felt an almost overwhelming urge to get back home as quickly as possible. Every warning bell I had, was clanging as loudly as possible that if I did not take this seriously, there would be no second chance.

  I stopped at the gun shop, which happened to be on my route home. It was more crowded than the others were, and several people were trying to buy more guns than they had money for. One guy, who came in to sell his gun, received four offers from other customers. I watched as two men nearly got into a fight over an AR that one wanted to see, and others wanted to buy, right then. Everything was selling, from .22 pistols to big 7mm Magnum rifles. Ammo was flying off the shelves, and I was relieved when I saw that no one had picked up the 30 Carbine ammo yet. Pays to have an unusual caliber gun, I thought.

  I signaled the man behind the counter who was waiting for a customer to make up his mind on shotguns.

  “Can I help you?” He asked. I noticed he was wearing a .45 on his hip. Prudent, I thought.

  “I need to get some .30 carbine ammo,” I said.

  “Right. You want it by the box, or case?” He asked, reaching behind him.

  I was surprised. “You have cases?”

  “Sure thing. Cheaper to buy a case than to sell it piecemeal, but we just got an order in yesterday, so if you want a whole case, I’ll sell it to you discounted. Bigger discount if you pay cash.”

  “Deal,” I said, reaching for my checkbook. I kept emergency money there and something told me this was definitely an emergency.

  “Let me go get it.” He walked off to a back room that had a large padlock on it. As the door opened, I could see stacks of varied ammo in a wide range of calibers. Bet a lot of people would like to see that room, I thought.

  As I finally headed home, I thought about what I had seen and heard. I thought about what I had in the trunk and hoped to God that I was wrong. If I was, I was going to have a hell of a shooting day at the range, the next time I got out. If not, well, I did what I could to protect my family. I just wish I had a clue as to what I was protecting against. If the virus was airborne, I could do little. If it was spread by contact, that was something else.

  A raindrop hit my windshield and I looked at the darkening sky. Storm. Great. Maybe I’ll get home before it hits. With any luck, it’ll all blow over.

  3

  “…in related news, the Enillo Virus has claimed millions of lives worldwide, and scattered reports of victims returning from the comatose state and attacking their caregivers are on the rise. In Africa, a veritable army of infected people is slowly marching their way across the continent, ravaging every village and city they come across. Their numbers seem to swell from each attack, and nations across the globe are scrambling to counter what many have called the worst crisis mankind has ever faced. Infected individuals seemed to be impervious to pain, or even what some might consider, debilitating injuries. New reports coming in from New York and Chicago and Los Angeles, indicate a heavy population of infected individuals. Official reports are debunking the somewhat popular notion that the dead have come back to life. YouTube videos abound on the Internet and officials warn self-styled “Zombie Hunters” that they will be prosecuted within the fullest extent of the law. Anyone caught looting will also be prosecuted. Individuals are urged to stay in their homes and avoid all contact with infected individuals. They are to be considered extremely dangerous. If a loved one or family member exhibits any symptoms of the virus, they are to be isolated immediately, and the family is to place a white cloth on their mailboxes to alert emergency personnel to the presence of another victim.”

  I switched off the television and looked out my front window. I could see three houses with white towels on their mailboxes, and I wondered how many more, will there be? Will there come a time when all the houses have white flags on them? If your house doesn’t have a white flag, will the officials think you’re immune and want to take you away for testing? Who knew?

  The last week was a blur. I went to work and tried to keep things as normal as I could, but the kids were scared. Some were talking about how their mom, dad, or sister was sick, and they didn’t know what to do. Many of my students were absent, their parents taking them to relatives in Mexico or to other states, trying to get away from the large population center of Chicago. I worried about my brother, who lived downtown with his family, but I spoke with him the other day and he seemed fine. I called my parents in Virginia, but was only able to leave a message. Their house was fairly isolated, and my father was an ex-marine, so I figured they would be all right.

  Two days ago, the governor of the state called for a suspension of attendance of public schools, the thought being that if a student were infected, he could easily spread it to many families due to the close nature of classrooms. For once, the governor actually had a decent idea. So, for the last two days I have been busy reloading ammunition, cleaning my guns, and stocking up on foodstuffs. Pickings were getting a little slim at the grocery store, as people began to see the wisdom of hunkering down and waiting out the storm.

  I was very grateful Ellie had managed to get to the store before the real storm of public awareness hit, and I managed to make a few runs myself. I had gone to the bank and withdrawn as much as I could; figuring to replace it should the worst pass. I didn’t want to be caught up short without cash, and yesterday they announced on the news that credit cards are going to be suspended, to try to prevent people from going overboard and end up losing everything when the crisis passed. I bought everything I could think of, and my basement was pretty well stocked. I was going to feel like a class A fool if this thing blew over quickly, but the little voice in the back of my head said we were in for a rough ride.

  Ellie was working today, and since I was home, I was doing the house thing with Jacob. He was such a little joy to have around. All smiles and not a worry in the world. His eyes, the little, “chocolate browns,” as Ellie liked to call them, just sparkled and when he looked at you, it was if he was saying “I trust you with my world.” More than once, I found myself just looking at him for a long time, wondering how in the hell I got so lucky.

  Jake was playing in the living room when I got a call from Ellie.

  “John?”

  “Yeah, babe. What’s up?” I moved over to the kitchen table so I could keep an eye on ou
r little one. He couldn’t crawl yet, but he was pretty good at a military crawl and rolling got him into trouble more times than not.

  “Not a whole lot. We’ve been seeing a lot of patients today, and I might be later than usual.” Ellie sounded nervous.

  “All right, I’ll feed Jake and get him bathed.” I tried to sound nonchalant, but inwardly my concern just skyrocketed.

  “Thanks. And John?”

  “Yeah, babe?”

  “Are your toys loaded?” Ellie asked.

  That sent my concern into the stratosphere. Ellie never asked about my guns, letting me have my little hobby as long as I didn’t advertise it, and kept my guns in a safe away from Jake. “Not yet, why?” I asked.

  “You might want to think about having them handy,” Ellie said cryptically.

  “Ellie, what is going on?” I said, more forcefully than I intended.

  “John, just do it. Please. There’s more to this virus than people have been told,” Ellie said. “I gotta go, they’re paging me to the O.R. Love you!”

  “Love you, too,” I said, but the line had already cut out.

  I wondered what the hell was going on, but I didn’t question Ellie. She had sources of information that did not have anything to do with the media. Such as, the cops that brought the victims in, to the EMT’s that treated them at the scene, to the victims themselves. Ellie often knew days before anyone else about things that were happening. She knew about a tuberculosis outbreak three days before the news reported it. However, in all our years together, she had never told me to load my guns and have them handy. I decided that maybe this event was prickling my senses