This Dying World: The End Begins

by Dean James

  “When I woke up, you yelled at me before coming up the stairs,” she replied.

  “Are you serious? You’re going to bring that up now?!”

  “Want me to hit you again?” Abby glanced at me.

  “I’ll be good,” I said covering my arm. I didn’t think I deserved to be held accountable for my actions while getting sized up for a zombie snack, but Abby has a mean right hook. My arm still ached from the last one, and I thought it may be better to live to fight another day and not start an argument.

  “So, are we headed to Chris’ farm?” she asked. She cut the wheel sharply to the right to avoid another mass of wreckage.

  “You were paying attention after all!” I beamed. “And here I thought you were just humoring me.”

  “I was, but you really never shut up about it.”

  “Fair enough,” I said.

  Abby slammed on her brakes as the sudden appearance of a Lexus SUV threatened to shear off our front end. The Lexus shot out of a driveway, tires screaming as the occupant tried to veer away from us. He over steered and sent the vehicle into a spin that careened into a tree. Spinning tires spit dirt and rock upwards as the driver tried to gun the engine forward, but the car was not going anywhere.

  “Should we help?” Abby’s question was tinged with uncertainty.

  Before I could answer, a short middle aged man popped open the driver door. He had a round face, grime from his balding head shining in the moonlight. He wore old dirty jeans and a “wife beater” t-shirt, with a flannel jacket as his only protection against the cold. He looked as though he had no business behind the wheel of such an expensive vehicle. A point that was punctuated by the 9mm pistol he raised in our direction.

  “Go!” I yelled as his first bullet punched into the road, throwing asphalt up into the air in front of us. Our engine growled as Abby put the pedal to the floor. Katie screamed and covered her ears as the passenger mirror exploded in a shower of glass. We were at least eighty feet away when I heard a third report. Sparks flew from an abandoned car in front of us. Abby topped eighty before we could no longer hear the shots.

  “Abby, slow down. It’s okay, we’re clear,” I said, placing my hand on her shoulder. She was shaking violently; the color had completely drained from her face. She clenched so tightly to the wheel her knuckles had turned as white as a zombie’s eyes. Tears streamed from her wide open eyes as she skirted around the myriad of obstacles in the road.

  “Abby!” I said more forcefully. “You are going to kill all of us if you don’t slow down!” She veered around a smashed Mini, my head rebounding off the closed window next to me. She looked over at me nursing my head, and it seemed as if her senses came back to her.

  The engine calmed as her foot lifted from the accelerator. The car slowed as she allowed it to roll to a stop on the side of the dark road. She put the car in park and bolted out the door. She sat on the front bumper, head in her hands and staring at the ground.

  I followed her outside. The area looked clear enough for the moment, but we couldn’t sit there long. We were not far enough away from population yet. When she looked up at me a torrent of tears erupted.

  “What...the...fuck...was...that!?” she screamed into the night.

  “Abby, that might be what we will be facing a lot more often.” I sat next to her, putting my good arm around her. “People are scared. A lot of them will do anything it takes to survive, including killing us to take what we have. We have to be smarter than them, and be very careful from now on.”

  “Can you drive? I can’t right now,” she said as she stood and walked away.

  “Yeah, I think we need to get off this road for the night anyway. Maybe maneuvering in the daylight will be a bit easier,” I said.

  I would always jump at the chance to take control of the wheel regardless of the reason. I love her dearly, and I will pay for saying it, but Abby’s driving could make a grown man cry. Compounded with the fact that we were running for our lives, I was sure I was only slightly safer with her driving than I was in the yard surrounded by the undead. She is officially the only person in my family with an act of road rage named after her. Taking the wheel was an act of self-preservation.

  She stood by the passenger side, looking over the remains of the mirror. The glass was gone, shattered into fragments laying in pieces on the road a couple miles back. The frame hung loosely from the door, swaying back and forth suspended by a single cable.

  “You shot my new car you asshole!” she shouted back down the road.

  “There’s the Abby I know. Welcome back, I missed you,” I said, smiling at her as I climbed behind the wheel.

  “You want really to mess with me right now?” she glowered at me. Right back into the frying pan I go. I’m not even sure what I did that time, but I know I was in trouble for it. If I still had my room, I would send myself to it.

  Hope that a safe hiding spot would magically appear on the road ahead of us faded quickly. We were only about fifteen miles from our house, and already we had driven into one of the many rural areas of Illinois. On our right was farmland that had recently been relieved of its drought stunted bounty of corn and soy beans. On my left, gated communities dotted the landscape. A strange mix, but high income families ate it up. No pun intended. We rolled to a stop to peer inside.

  The decorative iron gates did not protect those within. The living fled in any direction that took them away from the growing multitudes of the dead. People were beating on closed doors but found no mercy. Screaming victims were pulled down kicking and howling in pain as the ghouls ripped into their bodies.

  Every fiber in me wanted to turn in and try and rescue someone. Just to get anyone out of that nightmare. I looked in the mirror to see Katie staring out the window and into the nightmare.

  There were children in there. There were babies in there.

  Abby touched my hand. I had been absentmindedly rubbing the eye shaped scar. She shook her head. Her glistening eyes told me she knew what I was thinking, and that it was a bad idea.

  She was right. The thought of Katie being attacked because I tried to pull off some half assed rescue made my blood run with ice. No matter how much of my soul I would leave behind, I wouldn’t put my daughter in jeopardy. I had a duty to keep my family safe, even if it meant I had to leave another’s behind.

  I felt the first bit of my humanity chipped away as we drove off, leaving those poor people to their fates.

  Chapter Seven

  The next hour passed in silence. Miles ticked by as we drove deeper into the new unknown. The volume of static vehicles had diminished. Still, there was no way of knowing what else we would find popping out on the road. With that in mind, we continued to drive slower than a PTA mom in a snowstorm.

  Katie had fallen asleep, her rhythmic breathing having a calming effect on me. I don’t know how kids can do that. They could sleep though the end of the world. Literally. Abby appeared as if she had no more tears to cry as she stared blankly through the passenger window, the moon highlighting her soft features in the dark cabin. The shattered mirror drummed away on the door as it swayed in the wind.

  Though my home sat in a far suburb of Chicago, it doesn’t take long to find your way to the middle of farmland. The population had dramatically dropped off, going from gated communities to the occasional farmhouse pushed back from the road.

  I thought more than once about knocking on a door or two to warn unsuspecting occupants what lay just a few miles behind us. It wouldn’t have made a difference if I did, though. In the scant moonlight, I could just make out the unsteady shamble of the dead walking across barren fields. The dead were already there. Knocking on any doors would only be inviting disaster.

  We were driving alongside another open field when I suddenly felt as if my eyelids had been surgically replaced with lead. The adrenalin that had sustained me throughout my less than graceful egress had evaporated, and I was well into the post “flee for your life” crash.

  My
knee thundered with pain when I tried to move it. My shoulder didn’t seem as bad as it was earlier. That was until I moved it again, and sharp needles shot down my arm. I should have let that sleeping dog lie for a while.

  I needed to find someplace to stop soon.

  “Radio!” Abby boomed.

  “Damnit Abby! You scared the shit out of me!” I snapped after I brought the car back under control. Katie stirred long enough to groan a complaint over being thrown around in her car seat. Seconds later, she was back in dream land.

  “Oh don’t be such a baby. Turn on the radio, maybe we can get some idea what’s happening.” Apparently she was oblivious to the fact that she had just shaved ten years off my life. Those were going to be the years I planned to use pinching random butts in my nursing home.

  It took a few moments before I could unfurl my white knuckled fingers from the steering wheel. My heart was still racing as I tried to slow my breathing. A noxious odor began to fill the cabin that even I had to retreat from. Abby began waving her hand under her nose, trying to wave away the stench as she lowered the window. The fresh cold air rushed in, causing goose bumps to rise on my bare legs.

  “Dan!”

  “Hey! You’re lucky that’s all that came out! You’re the one who found the brown note,” I said rolling down my own window. Being a red-blooded American male, farts are funny. They just are. Had I been surrounded by my friends, I would probably be celebrated for what my body had been able to turn dinner into.

  “Just turn on the radio,” Abby said, holding her nose under her jacket.

  Smiling at my small measure of revenge for my lost butt pinching years, I hit the menu select button on the steering wheel. On the dash a small LCD screen came to life, its light blue background highlighting the orange icons on the display. It was 3:36am, and a blustery 26 degrees outside. I was heading north with a slight westerly angle at a speed of 21mph. Airbags were active, cruise control inactive, and the radio was on.

  I was met with either silence or the shrill sound of the emergency alert alarm as I scanned across the AM bands. We both sat straight in our seats when a live human voice broke though. The signal was weak and full of static, but it was the first live human voice besides our own that we heard since waking up.

  The broadcaster was winded. His deep voice was dry and hoarse, as if he had been talking for hours. Given the state of things, he might have been. He spoke slowly and methodically. The tremor of his voice betrayed his emotions as he struggled to speak clearly and professionally.

  He was scared.

  “…are being urged not to approach police stations, government buildings, or military roadblocks as a shoot to kill order is in effect. Infection rates so far are highest around hospitals, so avoid them at all costs. If you are in your homes, barricade all outside windows and doors. If you are outside, or your home is no longer safe, seek shelter in your nearest church, school, or park district building. From there you will be evacuated to safe zones currently operated by the National Guard.”

  “Are there any churches or schools nearby?” Abby perked up.

  “Doesn’t matter,” I answered. “We’re not going.”

  “Why not?”

  “Think about it Abby. If you’re hungry are you going to go for the three breadsticks rolling off the table, or the whole buffet? How many of those things must there be already if they are evacuating the city? All of them will be looking for that largest source of food.”

  “It’ll be a massacre,” she exhaled, deflating back into her seat.

  “I don’t know. Maybe. Maybe not. It’s not a gamble I’m willing to take though,” I said.

  It took a few minutes for her to mull over what I had said. In the end, Abby reluctantly agreed.

  “Washington is reporting the President and select cabinet members have been moved to a safe, undisclosed location to monitor the situation. Members of Congress have also been moved to their respective safe houses. However sources tell us many representatives and their families remain unaccounted for, as many had returned home during the holiday recess.”

  “Good to know,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Glad President Dipshit is safe, though I think he was already brain dead before this. He should fit right in amongst the undead.”

  “Officials from the Centers for Disease Control in Atlanta state that all research personnel from local and satellite offices have been called in an attempt to combat this pandemic, so far with little success. The main Atlanta offices have been in a state of lockdown for the last six hours, and will remain that way indefinitely. Military spokesmen have confirmed a barricaded checkpoint has been put into place surrounding the labs, allowing only authorized personnel access. Anyone attempting to breach the checkpoint will be shot.”

  I felt numb. This wasn’t just a national crisis. The utterance of one word told me everything I needed to know.

  Pandemic. It was everywhere.

  It was the CDC term that was used only when several countries were experiencing the same type of outbreak at the same time. Pandemic meant these creatures were walking around all over the globe. With the destruction I had already witnessed, it also suggested that it would be a long time, if ever, before our lives would be close to normal again.

  It wasn’t fair. I looked back at Katie through the mirror. She was still sleeping, her little rosy face catching the moonlight as it peeked out from behind the clouds. She was only six years old and here she was running for her life. Her life, her friends, her future was over.

  I cut the wheel to the right and slammed on the brakes. Katie jolted awake and started to cry. Abby turned to comfort her as I threw the door open and limped to the front of the CRV. The cold wind blasted my front, stinging my thighs and sending a breeze up the legs of my boxes to a place cold wind was never meant to go. I took no notice of my freezing nethers. It was my turn to have a meltdown.

  “It’s not fair!” I shouted.

  A primal scream erupted from somewhere within that seemed like it wanted to last forever. I collapsed to my knees, out of breath and sobbing. Abby was suddenly there as if from thin air. Her warm embrace enveloped me and held me tight. I leaned into her, still bawling my eyes out.

  “She’s only six!” I let out after a few minutes of weeping. “It’s not fair. What kind of life will this be for her?”

  “She’s alive, and right now she’s safe. That’s better than a lot of people can say tonight,” Abby said softly.

  “I guess that is something. Will it be enough though?” I asked.

  “I don’t know,” she said. “It will have to be until we figure things out.”

  We sat there for a few minutes. I wanted to try and compose myself before going back to the car. Katie had been through enough that night. She didn’t need to see the grown-ups in her life falling apart. Abby stayed by my side, keeping me warm while I got my shit together.

  My legs felt like rubber, and I stumbled a bit when I finally stood. It had been many years since I had made a major violation of guy code by crying openly in public. It takes a lot out of a guy. My knee made a terrible cracking sound as I stretched. I bent back over to rub the pain out of my knee when my eyes fell on a dark shape on the horizon. I would have missed it if my headlights had not been angled just right.

  I laughed when I looked around to find no shamblers anywhere in sight.

  “Umm, crying I get. The screaming was a bit much, but still understandable. The laughing is kinda creeping me out though,” Abby said as she made her way back to the car.

  “I just found a place for the night,” I said as I pulled myself into the driver’s seat.

  “I don’t see anything,” she said, scanning the field as she buckled herself back in.

  “Exactly.”

  Chapter Eight

  I cut right and accelerated into the field. The vehicle bounced along giving the shocks of Abby’s new car a work out. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see her holding herself in place and throwing a death stare at me t
hat could melt ice. I smiled and winked at her.

  I won’t say what she whispered in my ear after that, but I decided it would be better not to antagonize her. Let’s just say I like some body parts more than others and I wanted to keep them where they were.

  The car lurched as the front tire caught on a soft patch of ground. I alternated between reverse and drive, trying to rock the car free. With one last rev of the engine we came loose, but not before spitting a few rocks against the side of Abby’s car.

  Yup, the glare was back.

  The land gently sloped downward, bringing our temporary refuge into view. Hidden away by the contour of the land was a small dilapidated barn. Its once bright paint dulled by years of weather and sun. The roof had partially caved in on one side, exposed planks of rotten wood extending outward like skeletal remains.

  The grounds around the base of the structure had overgrown, the weeds long browned in the grip of the winter’s cold. Farm tools that had not seen work in decades leaned against the side of the barn, rusting into useless junk. It was the kind of place someone wouldn’t notice as they drove by unless they knew where to look. We could hide there for the night with some confidence that we wouldn’t be found.

  We drove around the back of the building and found the double doors chained closed. I cautiously stepped out of the car, grabbing my new favorite hammer and motioning for Abby to take the wheel. She slid into the driver’s seat as I quietly closed the door. Abby mouthed for me to be careful as I started towards the barn.

  Dirt crunched under my feet as I walked. The normally quiet car sounded like a jet in the deathly silence of the wintery night. I strained my ears, listening for anything out of the ordinary. The air smelled of soil and rotting wood, the odors of death and tainted flesh was blessedly absent. I felt the slightest bit of relief as it became apparent that we were alone.

  A little bit of prying and the door handles that held the chains in place broke free. The crack of the long unused hinges when I opened the door sounded like shotgun blasts in the night. Had anything been within half a mile our hiding spot would have been in jeopardy. But we had to chance it. I had to believe hiding spots were in short supply. The sun would be up soon, and we were all exhausted. Except for Katie of course, she had fallen asleep as soon as the car came to a stop.