100 Days of Death

by Ellingsen, Ray

  Just as I was reassembling the 10/22, Albert walked in, his eyes narrowed in anger. He didn’t say a word, just motioned us to follow him. I put a magazine into my .45 and chambered a round, wondering what was wrong.

  We gathered in his room around the portable radio. Grace got curious and came in with us. Albert looked at her and said that he thought Chloe wanted to be brushed. Grace figured out she wasn’t invited and rolled her eyes, calling for Chloe as she left. I’m surprised Chloe isn’t bald by now from all the grooming she’s been getting.

  Albert looked at us both seriously and then turned up the volume on the radio. I recognized Wayne the biker’s voice immediately. He had recorded a five-minute message and was broadcasting it in a loop. We caught the broadcast about halfway through its cycle and listened to it several more times after that. I have heard it enough by now that I have most of it memorized.

  Wayne’s speech began with: “My name is Wayne Burton. I am a veteran of the Iraqi war for freedom and a member of a peaceful community of fellow veterans, women, and innocent children. A week ago, a group of godless terrorists bombed our home, exposing us to infected plague victims and killing sixteen of our loved ones.

  They took our women and children. These cowardly acts of senseless violence cannot go unpunished. We are asking for help from any fellow Christian survivors who may be hearing this. If you have any information as to the identity or whereabouts of these heinous criminals we pray to God that you will contact us. We are offering a generous reward of a four-week supply of food and water to anyone who can help us.”

  Wayne went on to give information about how to contact them and what to look for, describing our white truck and a detailed description of me and Alison.

  In the middle of our third time listening to Wayne’s propaganda broadcast, we heard something hit the floor behind us. We turned to see Roz standing in the doorway. Her iPod lay broken on the floor. Roz’s fists were clenched and tears streamed silently down her face. Her whole body shook violently.

  Albert turned off the radio, but it was too late. I don’t know how much she heard but I’m sure it was enough. She turned and fled to her room, slamming the door behind her.

  Nobody said anything. For the first time since I met her, I had genuine empathy for Rosalyn. I was enraged by the broadcast but powerless to do anything about it. I guess we had already caused all the damage we could to them. I thought back to the feeling of being hunted by Wayne’s thugs and shivered a little.

  I told Albert to keep listening for any updates. He nodded and I left the room. Alison went to go keep an eye on Grace and I retreated to the roof to keep a lookout.

  I stayed on the roof most of the afternoon. In my imagination, I heard motorcycles circling the neighborhood, but when I listened carefully, it was just the wind or the occasional moans of the undead in the distance.

  Alison joined me at one point and we sat together in silence, neither of us knowing what to say to the other. The broadcast had made me feel like a little kid who had done something wrong and knew he was going to be punished for it. It is stupid to feel this way. If they find us, it will be a death sentence for us all.

  I think Alison realizes the same thing. She cried and leaned her head against my chest. I heard the back door open below us and then nothing else. Curious, I got up and looked over the edge of the roof. Grace stood below, fidgeting. She knew not to make noise outside and also that the ladder was off limits. I was proud of her discipline.

  Alison wiped her tears and tried to compose herself. I told her I’d go find out what Grace wanted and that she could stay there. I left her my carbine and went down the ladder. When I got to the ground, Grace whispered urgently that she had to go “number 2.” I was pretty sure she could handle her own business in the bathroom so I told her to go ahead.

  She explained that Roz had been in the back bathroom “forever” and that Albert was in the front bathroom making it stinky.

  I could certainly sympathize with her not wanting to use a bathroom that Albert had desecrated, so I went with her to the back bathroom and knocked on the door. After getting no response for almost a minute I turned the handle. It was locked. Grace squirmed and danced around.

  Something was wrong. I knocked on the front bathroom and Albert told me there was no way he could finish anytime soon. He used the words “severe diarrhea,” and “explosive,” so I left him alone.

  I took Grace out back and asked Alison to come down. I handed her a roll of toilet paper from the storage closet and told her to take Grace out behind the garage and to not come back inside until I cleared it. Her eyes widened but she didn’t protest.

  Grace quietly whined about not wanting to do it outside, but Alison took her hand and told her it would be just like camping.

  I went back inside and knocked on the back bathroom door again. I told Roz that I was coming in and pulled out my Spyderco. I shoved the blade behind the molding on the doorframe and pushed the tip against the door latch, disengaging it.

  I opened the door. One look was all I needed. Roz lay naked in the bathtub, dead. She had found my straight razor and slit her own throat, severing her carotid artery. She had been thorough, cutting her left wrist as well, up the vein, not across. She had not been shy about it and was not looking for attention. The cuts were long and deep.

  I checked for a pulse even though I knew there was no chance. The amount of blood in the tub erased any doubts. I didn’t like her very much but ached from the loss. She deserved better. My practical side asserted itself and I quickly considered the logistics of what needed to be done. I didn’t want to expose Grace to this. She had enough problems.

  I knocked on the front bathroom door again and shut Albert’s protests up by telling him to put a cork in it and get his ass out immediately. A minute later, he emerged, his face pallid and sweaty. I showed him Roz. He looked at me, all business now. He told me that Grace couldn’t see this.

  We donned gloves, wrapped Roz’s body with the shower curtain from the front bathroom, and gently lifted her out of the tub. Her blood was sticky and warm. I carried her in my arms and, while Albert stood guard, I put her body in the back of the Yukon, closing the latch quietly.

  Albert put one end of the hose into the pool next door and turned on the pump. We ran the hose through the bathroom window and rinsed the blood down the drain. I soaked a towel in soapy water and cleaned up the blood spatter on the walls. It took us forty minutes to get the bathroom presentable. I sprayed freshener and burned matches, but I couldn’t get the coppery smell of blood out of the air.

  We finally went out into the backyard to tell Alison. I found her and Grace having a picnic and playing cards. Alison tried to keep up a brave front but knew something was wrong. Albert told Grace he was going to take her up on the roof. She was very excited and they went off together to go climb the ladder up to a new adventure. I had grabbed my carbine, knowing I would need to take Alison somewhere to give her the news.

  We silently left through the makeshift gate in my back fence and crossed the property to the next street over. I took Alison to our gardening truck and we got inside so we could talk. I wanted to get the truck off the street now that it was identifiable and, while I hated having to be so practical as to kill two birds with one stone; this was a perfect opportunity to do both.

  I didn’t try to sugar coat anything, I just explained it plainly. Alison started sobbing even before I had finished. I sat quietly as she pulled her knees up to her chest and buried her face in her arms, crying. I was nervous about being so exposed and looked everywhere around me, checking the front and back windows every few seconds.

  While I sat there, I remembered seeing an open garage next to a house not too far away. When Alison finally looked up, her eyes were red rimmed and dull. She began weeping again but after a few minutes stopped, finally crying herself out.

  I cringed inwardly and then asked
her if she was up to ditching the truck. She nodded tiredly and didn’t take offense to my insensitivity. I started it up and drove to the house I had in mind, immediately backing up the driveway and into the open garage. I killed the engine and got out, shutting the garage door as quietly as I could. It was just pure luck that the door wasn’t electric.

  I heard a muffled pounding somewhere outside and my heart sank. “Could somebody please give me a break?” I thought.

  After motioning Alison to stay in the truck, I eased the side door of the garage open and edged around the building. The pounding was coming from inside the house. I went to one of the side windows and saw an elderly undead woman banging on the panes, trying to get at me.

  I took aim and fired. A small hole appeared in the window and a corresponding hole appeared in the cheek of the creature. I fired another round and this one hit its mark. The body fell against the window and slid down and out of view. After several minutes of silence, I went back into the garage, closing the door behind me.

  I sat in the truck with Alison for over an hour. We didn’t talk much. Finally, she looked over at me and thanked me for being so patient with her.

  “We must have done something really awful to be left here in a world like this.” she said.

  When we finally emerged from the garage, it was almost dark. As we edged around the front of the house, looking cautiously about, Alison grabbed the back of my shoulder and tapped once, letting me know she was ready to move. We made it home without any troubles.

  Tonight Albert explained to Grace that Roz went to a place where she could be happy. Grace was upset that Roz didn’t say goodbye, but didn’t cry much. She asked all sorts of questions and I was thankful that I wasn’t the one who had to lie to her.

  At 1:42 a.m this morning I woke to what sounded like the sharp rumble of a jet in the distance. The sound passed over the house headed north and then abruptly stopped. After a moment, I felt the ground tremble. Just as I thought it might be an earthquake, it stopped and was followed by the dull boom of thunder.

  Chloe started shaking and nuzzled close to me. I wondered what disaster had happened now. I heard the bedroom door open and Alison came out into the TV room carrying a lit candle. She looked as scared as I felt. We both sat quietly for a few minutes and then speculated in low tones what it might be.

  I just hoped it wasn’t a nuclear weapon. We went outside and up onto the roof. We could see a faint glow a mile or two to the north, but nothing more. So much for a nuke. I suppose it could have been a plane, but if it was, it’s the first one I’ve heard in weeks.

  We went back inside and listened to Albert’s snoring from the other room. I told Alison that he would have slept through whatever it was even if it landed next door. Alison finally went back to bed.

  I’m pretty tired of being scared all the time. I think I am becoming more afraid of life than death. I recalled the elderly couple we discovered dead in their bedroom the other day, and then thought about Roz’s last question to me about whether or not you come back infected after you die. I guess we both know the answer now.

  DAY 35

  I woke up this morning to the sound of pouring rain.

  This has got to be the wettest winter we’ve had in years. The undead seem to be less active in this weather so I am not complaining.

  Albert and I took Roz’s body next door and buried it in the flower garden behind the pool. There was nothing more we could do for her.

  While we set out our buckets to catch more rainwater, I told Albert about the loud noise from last night. He casually remarked that it was probably a crashed satellite. I suppose they’re bound to start dropping out of the sky at some point.

  Our propane supply is dwindling but I am not eager to leave the house in search of more. It has been quiet for most of the day. There is a depression hanging over us that even Chloe seems to feel. I tuned into Wayne’s broadcast again. It is the same loop as before. His skewed version of what happened was infuriating to listen to so I turned it off.

  We fired up the generator to power the computer and printer. Alison created an inventory template in Excel that we can fill in by hand and we printed forty copies of it. We attempted to get online but couldn’t access the Internet. I guess it’s gone for good.

  We also plugged in the microwave oven to make some popcorn. The propane heater I have doesn’t work. Just as well, as we don’t have the propane to spare for it. The skies cleared in the late afternoon and I thought I caught the faint smell of wood smoke in the air. I wonder if there is someone like us living nearby who has survived as well.

  I recalculated our supplies now that we have more of them, and one less person. We are adequately stocked for the next month and a half. There is nothing more to write for now.

  DAY 36

  I came out of the bathroom today to hear Alison and Albert arguing in the kitchen. As I walked past the livingroom I saw Grace holding Chloe tightly and biting her lower lip. When I reached the dining room they stopped. Neither of them would tell me what the problem was. The world has turned into a shit pile and we still can’t seem to get along…Great.

  I asked Albert if he would go with me to find a place to refill our propane tanks. He shook his head and walked out of the room, mumbling something about having to keep an eye on Grace.

  I don’t know why, but for some reason, the way he said it made me want to punch him in the face. The tension in the air was tangible. As dangerous as it is to leave the house, at that point, staying would probably be have been worse.

  Alison asked if she could go with me. I was tempted to tell her that I didn’t need anyone and was going to go alone, but common sense won out over my immaturity and I nodded to her in response. We agreed to leave after lunch.

  I went out back to exercise and let off some steam. As I did my second set of pushups I started to cough, noticing the smell of nearby smoke for the first time. I looked up and realized that the sunlight had a red tinge to it. I went up onto the roof to get a better view and saw the entire valley was bathed in a crimson haze. Visibility was about a half mile.

  When I went back inside, both Alison and Albert agreed that there was probably something on fire nearby. I was a little worried by this but I’ve seen burnt buildings all over the city in the last month, so it’s probably not that big of a deal.

  I found a place in the phone book called Colson’s Rentals that advertised propane refueling. They are located about a mile-and-a-half north of my house. I didn’t relish the thought of going into what I considered “Wayne’s territory” but we don’t have much choice.

  When we pulled the Yukon out of the driveway, it attracted two undead creatures. We lured them away from the house and let them chase us for three blocks before accelerating and leaving them behind.

  On a side note, I clocked them running at around ten miles an hour. I was tempted to see how far they could go before they dropped or lost interest but that seemed a little sadistic and I didn’t want to tempt fate.

  We found Colson’s but I parked two blocks away and surveyed it through my binoculars for fifteen minutes before driving into their back lot. The hazy red smoke was everywhere, even blocking out the sun. We were closer to the source of it but I still couldn’t tell exactly where it was coming from. The lot had cranes and trailers parked haphazardly. I located their large propane supply tank along the wall of the building. We drove cautiously across the tarmac, weaving between the rental diggers and dozers.

  I backed the truck up to the tank and shut off the vehicle, listening to the tick of the engine as it cooled. Neither of us spoke. There were no signs of life (or death) anywhere. Finally, I opened my door and got out. Next to the main tank were two smaller white propane cylinders. The markings on the collars identified them as forty-pound tanks.

  They were both empty. I unloaded the empty tanks we had brought, and while Alison stood guard, I began
the slow process of filling them. I only had two gauges with me, which made the process even more of a pain. I stopped several times and walked around to the front fence, looking for any signs of danger. The desolate silence was eerie and unnerving.

  Finally, we had filled all the tanks. The two forty-pounders weighed almost eighty pounds each full and they were awkward and heavy to load up without help. I was just thinking about how lucky we had been when I heard the unmistakable sound of motorcycles rumbling nearby.

  I pulled Alison with me into the gap between the building wall and the main propane tank. It would probably be the last stupid thing I ever did if we were discovered by anyone and they took a few shots at us.

  Alison pressed up against me and buried her face in my chest. I watched through the gaps in the equipment as a dozen choppers passed by on the street in front of Colson’s. Hordes of undead ran after them. The noise was deafening. I could feel Alison’s body shake and could almost hear her heartbeat pounding against my ribs.

  Finally, the roaring bikes faded into the distance. We continued to hold each other long after they were gone. The contact with Alison was the best feeling I have had in a very long time. We reluctantly pulled away from each other. Alison stared into my eyes for a minute and then looked away. We started to get into the Yukon and I stopped her, pointing to the roof. I grabbed my binoculars out of the truck.

  At the corner of the building there was a steel ladder bolted to the wall. A security cover surrounded the bottom eight feet of the rungs but I was able to disengage the latch with my Spyderco.

  We climbed up to the roof and cautiously made our way across to the front of the building. I didn’t see any signs of the bikers but through the haze I could see almost two city blocks on fire to the north of us. Dozens of buildings and apartments were burned to the ground and the thick smoke rose up from those buildings still on fire. My stomach churned as I felt the heated winds blowing in our direction. It was time to go.