Survivors Series (Book 1): Heroes Aren't Born

by Voeller, Cody

  The officer attempted to get to his feet, struggling with the computer cables he had fallen into. I watched his eyes, looking for any semblance of humanity, looking for a soul. What I saw staring back at me was pure, raging hunger. I hefted the putter and brought its slim, heavy head crashing into the temple of the fallen man, ceasing his struggling. I turned to the side and threw up, vomit covering the wall and low shelves that lined it. I heaved again, watching as it splashed on my shoes. I kept going until only dry heaves erupted. I stared at the unmoving corpse on the ground, wondering what I should be feeling. Fear, remorse, disgust? I settled on cold, my stomach still turning, threatening to rise up again. I spat and wiped my mouth on my shirt. “Fuck,” I muttered and turned away from the body. I had come for my gun and had already wasted too much time.

  I knew from when I had turned my gun over for storage that the locker was kept in the back room, out of sight of concerned parents and students alike. The backroom door was locked and, unlike the front door, it was reinforced wood with a deadbolt. I sighed and turned back to the dead man. I knelt down and searched his pockets. I found a small ring of keys and began trying each one on the door, finding that none of them worked. I almost threw the keys in frustration but saw a small lock box on the wall behind the front desk. I tried the smallest key first and almost yelled in triumph as it opened. I checked the sheet of paper taped to the inside of the door and found the two keys I needed, one for the backroom door and one for the gun locker. I opened the locker and looked at the dozen or so handguns hanging neatly inside. Each was labeled with a name, student ID number and secured with a trigger lock, a rule imposed by the school. I would have taken all the guns but it would have been worthless without the keys.

  I pulled my own keys out and unlocked the trigger lock from around the Beretta M9, letting it fall to the ground. I didn’t think I would need it again. I ejected the magazine and pulled the cardboard box of ammunition from my pocket and began loading the gun. I jacked back the slide and loaded a round into the chamber and, after clicking on the safety, I put it in the waistline of my jeans. While I would feel better with the gun in hand I felt it would be smarter to keep it out of sight. The last thing I needed was a cop showing up and holding me at gunpoint, the result ranging from delaying me, detaining me or shooting me, none of which I could afford.

  I readjusted the gun and, after taking a glance at my surroundings, started back to my house. I made it back to the library without any issue but the library wasn’t as I had left it. I noticed a smear of blood on the glass door, a hand print sliding out of focus. Well, that’s not a good sign I thought, putting a hand on my pistol and walking through the doors. It was only about eighty steps to the front of the library, it being wider than it was deep, and I would have made it without any problems if I hadn’t been such a moron.

  As I walked through the lobby noticed there was more than just my footsteps making noise. I heard shuffling and clicking from down one of the darkened hallways leading to study rooms and catalogs. I stopped and ducked down, making as small of a target as I could standing in the middle of an open space. I listened and stared hard into the dark, willing myself to see what hid there. I was getting ready to move when I heard a muffled whimper of fear. Damn it, I thought as I pulled my pistol and inched towards the darkness.

  I put my back to the wall near the hallway and peered around the corner, squinting, and saw three bodies shuffling back and forth in front of a study room. Their teeth snapped, causing another whimper to emanate from behind the closed door they faithfully guarded. I backed away from the hallway, making sure to stay away from the opening and retreated to the reference desk. Looking over the scattered desktop I grabbed a heavy metal stapler and silently made my way back. Looking around the corner I hurled the stapler over the heads of the three guards and watched as they turned as a group to follow the sound of the impact. Slowly, almost painfully so, they moved as one and shuffled into the stacks. I hurried down the hallway and tried the handle of the study room. Whoever was inside shrieked and pulled the door closed, doing their best to stop me from turning the handle. “Stop it,” I whispered frantically, “I’m here to help you. Let me in.” As the door remained closed I considered leaving. Whoever was inside was risking my life and slowing me down. “I’m going to leave,” I said trying one last time. When the door remained closed I thought, Right, fuck you too, and began backing away.

  I was about to turn the corner when the door opened a crack, “Wait, please,” a girl with black hair begged, “Get me out of here.”

  “Keep it down and let’s go,” I said gesturing with my gun.

  Her eyes widened when she saw the pistol, “Where are they?” she said too loudly.

  “Who?”

  “Those things that chased me in here.”

  “Probably coming back, let’s fucking go,” I said growing more impatient.

  “I’m not going anywhere until I know…” She screamed as an arm flashed around the door and prevented her from closing it. The three bodies, all men I saw now, had returned, presumably drawn by our conversation. They forced themselves into the small room, the girl being driven back by fear as much as force.

  Fuck, fuck, fuck, I thought as I moved forward, leveling my pistol at the man in the back. I pulled the trigger, instinct and hours of time spent at practice taking charge. He dropped lifelessly to the ground as my bullet ripped through his brain, cutting whatever strings that kept it upright. The other two disappeared into the room and the screams of terror morphed into screams of pain. As I rounded the corner into the room I placed my gun at the back of the head of the next man in line and pulled the trigger, blood splattering my face and arm. I turned my attention to the last one as he sat atop the girl in the corner, her screams turning into soul-wrenching sobs as he bit into her flesh, opening a gash in her neck. Blood flowed freely, soaking her shirt and running into the cream carpet of the study room. I aimed and pulled the trigger, taking advantage of his stillness as he chewed to put a third shot through his brain.

  The girl was weeping, clutching at her throat, trying to stem the flow of her life leaving her body. I placed the gun on the table that took up most of the room and knelt down next to her. I pulled the sweatshirt she had knotted at her waist and pressed it against her neck, doing little to actually stop the bleeding. She coughed, more blood getting on my face, and I could tell she was begging me for help. I knew there was nothing I could do, she would drown in her own blood and I couldn’t do a damn thing to stop it. I reached for my pistol but she gripped my arm, preventing me from reaching it. She stared at me as she died, never letting go, never giving up one last chance at human contact, at comfort. After an eternity she stopped, her grip going slack, no longer struggling for each breath. I covered her face with the blood-soaked sweatshirt and stood. After wiping my hands on my shirt I picked up my pistol and left the library, fire burning in my chest.

  I knew better than to blame myself, the girl had been an idiot, she had let the fear take control and it had gotten her killed. I knew better, but it didn’t help. I had set off to help her and failed. I swore to myself I wouldn’t let my friends end up like her.

  I knocked on the front door and it was unlocked for me. “Holly fuck,” Matt cursed, seeing my blood covered face and clothes, “What happened?”

  “A lot,” I said brushing past him.

  “What now?”

  “Now we get the fuck out of here,” I said closing the bathroom door behind me and peeling my clothes off. I stood hunched over, staring at my own reflection in the mirror as the water heated up. I needed to wash the blood off and hoped that it would take my fear with it. I couldn’t afford to be afraid anymore. I looked down at my hand as it shook, the blood beginning to dry and crust over. The adrenaline had kept me up and running but the end result were the shakes, I would get them after particularly intense calls for the fire department. I clenched my fist, “Get it together Ryan”, I said staring at my own reflection, “get it togethe
r.”

  After washing and putting on clean clothes I took a moment to clean the blood from my pistol and secure it at the small of my back. With that done, I started gathering dry and canned food, doing my best to keep my mind busy.

  We had several bags of cereal, canned soup, baked and refried beans, beef jerky, and power bars. I grabbed it all, put it in a box, and headed down to my car. I already had a case of water and a golf bag in the trunk of my car. I took out a couple of the clubs and put them in the back seat, making room for the box of food. I left the box of bottled water and headed back to the kitchen. Next to go in the car was every bottled drink from the house, pop, beer, Gatorade, it didn’t matter it all went into my car.

  My friends started trickling in, all looking scared and more than a little confused. “Hey,” I said to Justin, Thomas, and Christina, who were sitting on the edge of their seats on the futon. “How are you guys doing? Any of you hurt?”

  “Yeah, we’re ok, for the most part. Christina is a little shaken up. We were chased to our car by a couple of people, I’m pretty sure they were on drugs or something. They were so fast,” said Thomas.

  “What’s going on, James?” asked Christina, panic causing her voice to tremble.

  “I don’t know for sure, but I’ll explain once everyone is inside. Ok?” They nodded. “Ok, did you bring food and water?” They nodded again. “Good, what about a weapon?”

  When they shook their heads no, I silently cursed Matt for not telling them to do so.

  “Ok everyone, head to the garage and look for anything you can use as a weapon,” I told the group.

  I waited for twenty minutes and then decided that everyone who was going to show up, everyone that was still alive, was now sitting in my living room. I made sure that they were all armed with things like baseball bats, golf clubs, lacrosse sticks, and one field hockey stick. Don’t ask me where it came from because I have no idea.

  “Alright everyone, here’s what’s happening. There have been reports from around the globe of a new illness that has already killed hundreds. Now, normally this wouldn’t mean that we have to arm ourselves and head to a safer area, but in this situation, the dead aren’t staying dead. They’re getting back up and attacking the living. According to the news, the virus, or whatever it is, is spreading very quickly and they have no way of stopping it.” I waited for any questions. When I was met with silence I continued. “Now, what I think is happening, and bear with me is that we have people coming back from the dead. I think that they’re, well that they’re Zombies. What I saw out there…” I shook my head slowly and fell silent.

  Having not seen me on my return Jason let out a mocking laugh. “You have got to be kidding me, James,” he said with a smirk like I was trying to mess with, “Will you listen to yourself? You sound insane. Ooooh Zombies,” he said sarcastically.

  “You didn’t see him when he got back, Jason,” said Matt seriously, “there was blood everywhere.”

  “Blood?” asked Jason, hesitation in his voice.

  “Yeah,” Matt said nodding slowly.

  “Doesn’t mean…” he began but Matt cut him off.

  “Jason, did you get a hold of your family?” he asked, his voice deadpan.

  “No, but…”

  “Any of your family?” I added.

  “No,” he said thoughtfully.

  “What about you, Hannah? Could you get a hold of your family in Hawaii?”

  “No, all the lines were busy,” she replied, hugging her knees to her chest.

  “How about any of you,” I asked the rest of the group, “have any of you been able to reach your family?” I was answered with downcast eyes, head shakes and murmured ‘No’s’.

  “Then if no one has a better plan, let’s head to my house. If it turns out to be nothing then we’ll just have a fun weekend.” I started counting. There were fifteen of us all together and I frowned. “Wait, where are Samantha and Kelly?” I asked Matt. “They were here last night.”

  “They didn’t answer. I called four times.”

  “Fuck,” I sighed. “Hannah, Jessica? You two live near them, did you see anything?”

  “Their door was open on our way here, but we didn’t stop. There were people all over the street,” said Hannah.

  “Damn it,” I replied. “Ok, we need to finish packing and get out of here. Either you come or you don’t, up to you.” I went to my room and finished packing a small bag of clothes, my laptop, phone, iPod, a few hunting knives.

  The first thing we did was head to the nearest gas station to fill up all the cars in our caravan. There were eleven of us spread across four cars. Matt, Jason, Justin, and I were driving. We should have had more people, but some of our friends didn’t believe what I said so they stayed behind. I wish they hadn’t.

  At first, I followed traffic laws out of habit, but as we approached a four way stop with a flashing yellow light and rolled past an upturned car, I decided that the cops had more important things to deal with.

  When we arrived at the gas station, it was closed. There was no one working but the pumps were still on. I swiped my card at the pump, filled up and headed out. Yes, I know what you’re thinking, if this was the zombie apocalypse, why did you pay? Well, it wasn’t really an apocalypse yet. It was more like an epidemic, and if everything had blown over I wouldn’t have wanted to be charged with looting. It’s stupid, I know, but that’s how I had rationalized it.

  As we headed down the road I saw the first of many horrors. A bus had stopped on the side of the road, filled with passengers that had already reached their final destination but didn’t know they had arrived. The windows were streaked with brownish, bloody handprints. The figures moving within were crawling over one another in a mass of inhumanity. We quickly sped by the bus which, with its flashing lights and echoing moans, was drawing a small crowd of what we would come to call Walkers.

  There were several ways to get to my hometown, but most required us to travel on the highway. Drawing from what I had read, one of the first things that stop functioning is major transportation, including major roadways. They become congested with cars that will never move and passengers who shouldn’t be moving at all. I decided we would take a back road which would take us through smaller towns and through the hills. It would take slightly longer, but we would have the advantage of not running into many vehicles.

  After about an hour of driving, we reached a small town called Vernonia. To my horror, the town was dead and its residents were hostile and hungry. How could this have happened? I wondered, How could this have spread so fast? I knew the answer, but it was still hard to accept, my mind was still taking some time to fully make the switch from normal to paranormal. I had planned for us to stop here, pick up any food that we could and if the town was deserted, obtain a few weapons from the police station, but after I watched a group of the dead rip a body apart, we weren’t going to spend any more time here than was necessary.

  We had almost made it out of the town, slowly swerving through the zombies when Sarah said she heard a scream. Not the moaning that we had heard while on the road, but an actual, still-breathing human scream filled with terror. I made the decision to turn off the main road and head down a fairly deserted street. Jason pulled up alongside me.

  “What the hell man? Why’d we stop?” he asked.

  “Sarah heard a scream.”

  “So?” he replied. His eyes flicked nervously up and down the street.

  “So, if there’s a single person alive left to scream, then we have to find them and at least offer them help,” I told him with a hint of anger.

  “Yeah, sure. Ok,” he nodded.

  I turned to Sarah and asked, “Where do you think the scream came from?”

  “I’m not sure,” she said while pointing. “Somewhere over there, I think.”