The Common Cold (Book 2): A Zombie Chronicle-Cabin Fever

by Roberts, David K.

  The indecision had to stop right here and now, she angrily admonished herself. Having just listened to the death of a colleague all she seemed capable of doing was fret. How pathetic. She absent-mindedly stroked the smooth chambers of the blued steel gun, gazing at the dark-brown wood-handled Smith & Wesson .357 Magnum Model 19, and thought back to when BB had first introduced it to her. It was loaded with 38 specials containing 130 grain slugs. BB had said that load would suit the less muscular grip of a woman and reckoned it was good light weight ammo that she could handle easily. When he had first said that, Kimberley had taken umbrage, his implication that women couldn’t handle the full weight 158 grain .357 ammo had offended her independent nature. So they’d gone to a range and experimented; he had to be right all the time, well, every time she let him. She could handle the .357 slugs pretty well, although the kick was pretty significant, but had been far more consistently accurate using the lighter 38 special ammunition. The point had been conceded to him.

  Her fingernails tapped nervously on the table; more than anything she needed BB to call her again. Just to hear his voice would help to calm her nerves. Last time they’d spoken he said he was developing a plan to get to her quickly. Not caring how he did it, all she wanted was to have him back; if she was to perish, she wanted it to be together; not too much to ask, surely. Her hand was raised to her mouth and she had just taken a bite of the buttery bread, when her neighbour, Taylor something-or-other, ran past with a look of panic on his face. Racing across the open green that led down towards the US Coast Guard station next to the shore, he struggled to maintain distance between him and the man that was chasing him. Sitting up straight and nearly choking on her food, she stared in disbelief at the spectacle. Being a very private person, she didn’t know many people in her neighbourhood, but nevertheless, she was sure the guy chasing him was also one of their neighbours, a man who lived further up the road. They’d never formally met; he just seemed always to be cleaning his powder blue Chevy muscle car, clearly he’d had too much free time on his hands.

  Taylor jumped the low, iron-railing fence surrounding the boat yard like a frightened gazelle, and stormed towards the yellow-painted station house. He ran in through an open door, closely followed by his pursuer. She wasn’t sure, but even at this distance Kimberley thought she could hear some screaming and shouting before silence descended once more. Picking up the gun and hefting its reassuring weight, it was a toss-up as to whether she should go over and investigate, but the earlier experience at the bridge stayed her. On this occasion she would heed Brad’s words, he’d been very insistent and now she knew it was with good reason.

  Kimberley sniffed; her nose had been running all that morning, maybe it was the cool morning air, maybe the onset of a cold. Funny, she thought, Cindy had mentioned a lot of people with cold symptoms. Getting back to her current dilemma, Kim decided to go upstairs; the less chance of one of those crazies seeing her, the better. It might not be a perfect plan but right now no other ideas came to mind. All she had to do was stay out of sight for a few days and Brad would be there; he’d know what to do. Quickly finishing the coffee and croissant, she double checked the security and went upstairs. Returning to her bed she just lay there under the quilt, mumbling sotto voce prayers for Brad and intermittently snoozing, the warm sun through the windows making her drowsy in spite of her fear.

  Her cell phone rang, tearing her from a sensual dream that involved BB. Noticing the time display, it appeared she had been asleep for a few hours. The phone couldn’t reconcile the number to a name and she cursed whoever it was; the now lost dream had been a good one.

  “Hello,” Kimberley said, a little annoyance detectable in her voice.

  “Hi baby, it’s me.” She recognised BB’s voice, flushing all irritation from her in an instant.

  “I was just dreaming about you,” she said, her voice now thick and sensuous with warmth from her sleep.

  “Hope it was a good dream,” he said, a thrill making his stomach flutter. He loved the sound of her voice. “You’re alright, aren’t you? Anything happened around the house?”

  “I’m fine, love. I saw Taylor, our neighbour being chased by another guy. They disappeared into the boathouse.” She omitted to mention her attempt at getting to work from the conversation. She survived the experience; it was over and done with and she certainly didn’t want to frighten her husband.

  “You didn’t try to intervene, did you?” he asked, concern creeping back into his voice.

  “No, I was a good girl; I did as you suggested and stayed in the house.” Lying by omission was only marginally more comfortable to her than an outright lie.

  “Thanks love. I’m glad you didn’t try anything; I know you will have wanted to go to work but everything’s probably fucked up by now and you won’t be able to make a difference. You’d just become another victim of this. It seems that a bite from someone with whatever it is that is making them crazy will infect you, so please, please don’t take any risks. If you see anyone with blood on them, don’t assume it’s someone else’s. And for God’s sake don’t let them in the house.”

  “Alright. Enough with the lectures. Where are you now? Please tell me you are on your way home.”

  “I’m going to Tom’s place in the mountains, he believes his family has high-tailed it there after their house was burnt to the ground.”

  “God, that’s terrible. I hope they’re alright.”

  “So does he. I’m working on a way to get to you quickly; at first I was told about a friend of someone I’m travelling with, apparently this guy has a helicopter and thought I might be able to borrow it. Now I think I have a better idea which might also be a quicker solution as well. It would sure beat going by road and means I may well be there in a couple of days tops.”

  “So a couple of days, then? That’s better than I had dared hope for. I’ve got just about enough food for a few days but no more than that. Anyway, food’s not what worries me, I’m more frightened that some creep will try and break in. I’ve locked myself into the house but I won’t lie to you, I’m shit scared here on my own.”

  Her fear upset him; all he wanted to do was to be there and protect her. The pain was physical, twisting his gut in frustration and apprehension.

  “I’m coming for you, babe,” he said, speaking quietly but with resolve. “I’ll be there as soon as I can. In fact, I’ll make a promise right now; whatever happens I’ll be here no more than two days from now. I don’t care what I have to do to achieve this but I will do it. Do you believe me?”

  She could almost hear his jaw jutting out in determination. She smiled. “Of course I do, my love. Of course I do.”

  “Good. That’s settled then.” And then more tenderly, “You know I can’t live without you, don’t you?”

  “I feel the same way.”

  The line started to crackle and made Kimberley’s heart flutter with fear. The phones just had to work a while longer, she wouldn’t be able to stand being all alone and not able to speak to him.

  “I love you, Brad,” she declared.

  “I love you too, honey. Don’t worry, I’ll be there soon, you know I will. Just stay safe.”

  “I will.” The conversation paused, the unfixable circumstance depressing them both.

  “I better go, save my cell batteries. I’ll call you again soon. Love you.”

  “Love you darling.” With that she cut the line. Extended goodbyes were always hard for her to do and they had agreed they wouldn’t fall into that routine, especially as he travelled frequently.

  Now she felt more miserable than she could remember. She hunkered down under the comforter, crying softly and finally fell into an exhausted and deep sleep.

  *

  Kimberley sat up in bed, a noise outside had woken her. What was it, she wondered? There it was again, it sounded like someone banging on a door further up the street. Poking her head around the curtains, she peered outside and caught sight of a girl, perhaps fifteen or
sixteen years of age running from door to door, banging on each one trying to elicit some help. She was dishevelled and her flimsy blouse had been ripped. There was a little blood on the white material and suddenly BB’s words came flooding into her mind not to let anyone near her, especially if they had blood on them. Without knowing whose blood it was the risks were just too high.

  Kimberley made a decision. Looking further up the street and seeing no-one out there either following the girl or hanging around, she tapped on her window to get the girl’s attention. Beckoning the girl over, Kimberley ran downstairs to the front door, carrying the gun. Her medical calling, experience and all her instincts called for her to help this young lass. Sorry BB, looks like I’m doing it again, she mumbled to herself.

  The girl ran up the steps to the veranda and fell against the door in exhaustion, smearing blood on the glass.

  “Is that your blood?” Kimberley called out, pointing at the smear.

  “Yes it is,” the girl replied. “Please let me in.”

  “How did you get your injury?”

  “Let me in and I’ll tell you. Please. They’re after me.” The look on the girl’s face was one of panic and did not appear to have any of the hallmark features of one of those things out there.

  “When I open the door, I want you to stand facing that wall, legs apart and your hands held high.”

  The youngster looked confused for a moment and then realised what was required. She nodded quickly in agreement. Pistol pointing at the new arrival, Kimberley opened the door and beckoned her inside. Without hesitating the girl adopted the position asked of her only she also crouched, trying to make herself smaller and invisible. Instinctively Kimberley crouched down too. Just in time as what sounded like two or three pairs of feet could be heard rushing past the house and indistinct male voices calling out a name.

  “Emily. Oh, Emily! Come out, come out, wherever you are.” It was a mock-play voice, fun and threatening at the same time.

  The girl, presumably this Emily they were searching for, whimpered in fear upon hearing the voices and crouched even lower to the floor.

  “It’s okay. They won’t get you.” Kimberley was alternately angry and frightened, the gun in her hand tempting her to go and confront them. “Move along the hall and into the kitchen.”

  They crawled into the next room, away from the front of the house, Kimberley keeping the stranger ahead of her at all times, just in case. BB’s going to kill me when he finds out, she thought, cursing her instincts. It just wasn’t that easy to ignore a cry for help.

  Emily collapsed with her back against one of the Shaker style cupboard doors and sat there breathing deeply, her hands to her face. Tears ran out from behind her palms and her body was racked by gentle sobs.

  “It’s okay, you’re safe now,” Kimberley said gently while adopting her professional doctor voice. “I will make sure they won’t hurt you.”

  The girl’s breathing calmed and she wiped her face with the sleeve of her torn blouse.

  “How did you get your injuries?” Kim asked, this time with more authority. Until she knew for certain this girl wasn’t bitten or turning, she would still bear watching closely.

  “They… They attacked me.”

  “Are they infected?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t think so. They tried to help me at first.”

  “Okay, let’s wash your wounds and I’ll take a proper look.” Kim looked into the girl’s eyes. “I’m a doctor so you’re safe with me.”

  Taking her to the sink, Kim ran the water until it was hot and dipped a towel under the tap.

  “Wash your face and wipe around the wounds. You’ll feel better once the blood’s gone. I’ve got some disinfectant and bandages. Emily is it?”

  The girl nodded and took the towel.

  “My name’s Kimberley.”

  Washing her face Emily then pulled back her torn sleeve and wiped a long shallow cut. The arm was severely bruised, each discolouration describing finger marks where she had been restrained.

  “Oh, honey. They really did a number on you, didn’t they?”

  “Ah!” Emily hissed as she pressed it against the gash.

  “It’s not too bad,” Kim said, peering closely. “Was it a finger nail?”

  “I think so, they tried to grab me and force me into an empty car. There were four of them.”

  “Were all four of them chasing you just now?”

  “No. One of them attacked the others for some reason. I think he became like the strange ones, like my parents.”

  “Your parents?”

  “Me and my parents were travelling down from Seattle by car and got stuck in the queue for the bridge.” Tears started to fall down her cheeks again and she began wringing her hands in what appeared to be a mixture of fear for the future and sadness at so brutally losing those she loved.

  She continued her story. “It was early this morning and we couldn’t understand why the traffic was so bad. We had been waiting for about an hour and my father’s cold began to get worse. We tried to get him to drink plenty of water but he refused everything. After about half an hour it appeared as if he had just died. He stopped breathing and just sat there, staring straight ahead. Then his eyes closed.” The tears had started again. “He must have been sleeping though ’cos he woke up, except his eyes were white in the middle and the edges were all bloody. He wept blood. Suddenly he attacked mom, biting at her and, oh, God, it was horrible…”

  “Oh, Emily. Don’t talk if you don’t want to,” Kim suggested but the girl shook her head and carried on.

  “Some men came along and seemed to want to help. There were four of them at first. They killed daddy, it seemed to be the only way to stop him from attacking mom. They tried to tend to her but then she turned and attacked them, biting one of them too. I was useless, just sitting in a corner and crying. Their friend turned so quickly into one of these monsters it was scary. It was like my dad. He attacked his mates but they slammed his head in the car door and he died.

  “I thought they were going to leave me but they came back and just dragged me out of the car and down the slope toward this place. I was so frightened, I knew what they wanted but they were so strong. Then another one of those things attacked them, a really fast one, and they let me go in the struggle. So I took off.”

  “Well, look, you’re safe now. They won’t get you.” Kim wasn’t sure what else to say; she’d had very little experience with young people other than at the hospital in a professional capacity, and as this was new territory for her she decided to treat the girl like an adult instead. “Were you visiting family or were you on holiday in San Francisco?”

  “No, we were on our way further south, to Los Angeles where my dad was to take up a new job.”

  “Okay. I’m very sorry to hear about your parents, it must be a terrible shock for you.” Kimberley had looked over the girl’s arm and could see no signs of bite marks. Whether or not the infection could be spread by a finger nail she would find out in time. Until she felt safe, the gun would stay within easy reach.

  Finishing bandaging the wound, Kim poured a couple of cups of coffee.

  “We ought to take these upstairs; I don’t want anyone to see us through the windows. The fewer people know we’re here, the better. My husband is on his way down to rescue me. You are welcome to come too.”

  “That would be nice, thank you.”

  “Here, let’s take this cheese and my remaining croissants. Best eat them before they become stale.”

  Together they headed towards the stairs. Glancing back into the kitchen to make sure everything was turned off, Kimberley saw a mean-spirited face peering in through the window. There was another behind it. Instinctively Kimberley fired a shot at them, and one of them disappeared in a spray of pink. The other one caught most of the spray and he wiped his face as he ducked out of sight.

  “Get upstairs, quickly!” Kimberley ordered. “Did they have guns?”

  “Not whe
n I saw them.”

  Just as the famous last words came out of the girl’s mouth several shots were fired into the kitchen, shattering the windows and hitting pots and pans which crashed noisily to the floor.

  “Shit, they do now.” Kimberley ran to the rear bedroom overlooking where the men must be and peered carefully down, ready to duck back if seen. “Keep down,” she commanded. “This house is made of wood. You’ll get hit if they fire up at us.”

  Not needing to be told twice, Emily fell to the floor and crawled into the doorway, imagining the thicker wood there would offer more protection. It probably would; this was San Francisco and houses had strong points built in offering protection in the event of earthquakes, and door frames were natural ones.

  Quietly opening a window as little as possible, Kim took aim and fired, cordite filled smoke quickly blowing back into the room. A scream and a look of success crossed Kim’s face as one of the remaining two caught the bullet in the groin. Aiming at centre mass from that angle, the bullet’s trajectory was a little uncertain - she had never practiced shooting downwards - but where it hit made Kim understand the positive and warming effect of poetic justice. He had been the one holding the gun and even in his extreme pain, he refused to give it up to his partner in crime. Instead he curled up and rocked back and forth on the ground, howling in pain. Blood was pouring from the wound and it wouldn’t be long before he died.

  “This should be interesting to watch,” Kimberley said to herself.

  “What will?” Emily had crawled her way over to the window.

  “He’s going to die shortly. I want to see what his friend does when he comes back to life.”

  “He’ll escape,” Emily said nervously.