by Dean James
The headlights lit up the interior of the old barn. Hay littered the dirt floor, piled into small mounds in the corners. A simple plank ladder that once led to the loft lay on its side against the wall. Sections of the loft itself had fallen, the remnants scattered throughout the barn. On the opposite side of the decaying building, a damaged section of roof leaned against the wall. A mound of snow covered the fallen structure.
Abby maneuvered the car past the doors and around debris, cutting the engine once inside. The sudden silence rang in my ears as I closed and barred the large doors with one of the many planks of wood littering the floor.
Though we had travelled some distance after leaving our home, I could still smell fire carried on the wind. The occasional pop of gunfire still broke the stillness outside. People were close enough to give us pause. We would have to be quiet and careful.
Abby let her seat back as I covered my legs with my jacket. Katie snored in the back seat while the radio blared on, listing off “safe zones” and checkpoints. I sat wondering how this lone voice could keep going in the midst of everything. Did he have a family? Would he ever be able to escape the broadcast booth he spoke from? Was it already too late for him?
I suddenly felt a great deal of sadness for the man who kept us company as we took refuge in that broken down barn on a freezing December night. The night the world was swallowed up by the dead.
“Abby?”
“Yeah?” she asked, staring into the darkness.
“Was the house really bad? There seemed to be a lot of those things wandering around. How did you get out?” I asked.
“I had to kill one,” she said in a monotone voice.
“I see. Are you okay?”
“Tonight, that’s a pretty stupid question.” She glanced at me.
“Sorry. I guess it is.”
“Anyway, once I trapped the rest of them in the bedroom…”
“The rest?! How many were there?!”
“You going to let me finish or not?”
“Sorry.”
“Anyway…the rest of the house was empty, so that wasn’t a problem. But there were too many of those things outside to get to the car. We just hid and waited.” Abby looked down at the bite hole on her coat sleeve. She shuddered and looked out into space again.
“So? How did you get out?” I was a bit impatient.
“Well,” she said, turning to me with yet another glare. “There was this loud crash behind the house. Someone decided that would be a good time to teach the whole neighborhood a new vocabulary. I guess even the zombies were offended, because they all went to see who was reciting the alphabet of profanity. I spent the entire walk to the car explaining to our daughter that her daddy would never use that kind of language.”
“So you lied to her,” I chuckled as I took off my coat and covered my frozen legs.
“I protected our daughter’s perception of her daddy,” she said as she let her seat down. She rolled on her side with her back to me.
“And you lied to her,” I smirked.
Abby reached behind her, and in one motion ripped my coat from my legs and covered her own. The cuts on my legs stung as the rough fabric pulled across them, only to be assaulted again by the rapidly cooling air in the cabin.
“What the hell! It’s cold in here!” I said beyond irritated.
Abby turned, and I swear I actually thought I saw fire in her pupils.
“You yelled at me, threw me through a window, scared me to death when you fell, taught our daughter the dictionary of swear words, and now you’re calling me a liar!”
“I was in a bit of a situation!” I tried in vain to defend myself. In truth, I was a dead man.
“Well, now you’re in another one. It’s called staying cold for being an ass to your wife,” she said turning away from me again.
“You are made of bitch,” I said under my breath as I wrapped my arms around myself to keep warm.
“What did you say?” Abby raised her head slightly.
“I said I have a shoulder blade itch.”
“That’s what I thought you said,” she responded, laying her head back down.
“Hey Abby.”
“What, Dan?”
“That thermostat I installed. The one you said would never last a year. We moved out before it stopped working.”
“Goodnight, Dan,” she sighed before drifting off to sleep.
**********
Abby must have fished my cell phone from her coat pocket while I was out of the car. I found it sitting in the cup holder between us. Punching in the security code, I found twenty-two messages waiting for me. I flipped through my inbox, a lump in my throat forming as I read each text. A dark loneliness crept inside me as I realized these could be the last messages I would ever get from the closest people in my life.
“Man wake up and get your ass here!” Chris.
“Don’t worry about us, we’ll be okay. Get your girls out. Be careful, and tell Katie that gramma and gimpa love her very much. We’ll see you again either here or in heaven. I love you all!” Mom.
“Be safe. I’m holding out for now. Starting to lock things down here. Going for supplies soon. If it gets dicey I’ll try to get there. Send that address when you can. Be safe brother. By the way, you’re still an ass. Lol.” Big Mark.
“Holy shit dude! It’s crazy here. We’re fucked man, totally fucked. What’s that address again, going to try to get there. YOU BETTER BE ALIVE DAMNIT!” Mattman
“Man, where are you!” Chris.
“DON’T MAKE ME COME AND FIND YOUR ASS! GET HERE!” Chris
“Got bit. Been a fun ride, but not into the zombie lifestyle. Love you all!” Courtney.
And there it was. The first of many dear friends confirmed lost. Courtney had been a friend before Abby and I married. She was just one of the guys, quick witted and funny. She was the kind of person who was always there for you regardless of how bad things were for her. She knew the difference between Star Wars and Star Trek. (In my world…this is on the same scale of importance as food and water.) She was a good friend, and there was nothing I could do for her.
Then the idea hit me. I knew Chris would be pissed, but I was tired of feeling helpless. I needed to try and do something, no matter how small my action might be. Any lifeline I could throw would be worth it. I didn’t even know how many people would get my text, but I had to try something. I furiously punched out the message on my phone, addressing it to everyone in my contact list.
“All. If you can make it, we have a rally point. There are weapons and food. If you can make it, come. Bring supplies. Cell network will fail. Use CB radio ch. 9. If you can’t leave safely, don’t. Good luck.”
I tapped in the farm’s address, and stared at my message with my finger hovering over the send button. I didn’t know if the message would get out. The cell network would probably be overtaxed, or completely taken over by the military.
“Please,” I prayed as I hit the send button. I held my breath as my message began to transmit. I exhaled when the “message sent” alert flashed across the screen. It was a long shot, but I felt as if for the first time that night I had truly fought back. I felt like I may just have a chance at helping at least someone. I felt like…I had to pee!
I tried to get out of the car quietly. Seeing that I felt like I was two gallons full in a one gallon tank, stealth may have been too lofty a goal. For once that night I was glad I only wore my boxer briefs. Phone in hand, I closed the car door, louder than I wanted to. I glanced back and saw yet another of Abby’s glares as I made my way to the snowy section of the barn. To hell with writing my name in the snow, I was prepared to pull off the whole Declaration of Independence. With signatures!
The vibration of my phone suddenly pulled me out of my eye crossing relief. Although that moment wasn’t the most ideal time for a chat, I couldn’t ignore it. I didn’t know which would go first, the cell network or the phone battery. I didn’t want to chance missing any calls that nig
ht. Besides, I just sent out my text message, someone might actually have called back.
“Hello.”
“Where the hell are you?!” Chris sounded like he was talking through a kazoo. As much as it would swell his head to know it, I was happy to hear from him.
“I’m pissing in a barn. What’s up?” I asked, trying to sound care free.
“What’s up?! I’ve been scared shitless and you’re out there…wait you’re doing what?!”
“Pissing in a barn. Don’t worry no one’s home.”
“Can you stop being a smart ass and be serious for once?” he demanded.
“You know, I answered that question earlier and got punched for it. So I’m just going to say no.”
“What the hell are you doing in a barn?” he asked. “And don’t say pissing!” he followed up quickly.
“We had to stop. I almost killed myself getting out of the house. Someone shot holes in Abby’s car too. I thought it would be safer for us to get off the road and rest until its light enough out to see further than my own nose. I don’t know how long it will take to get there either. I don’t trust the highways right now, so I’m laying low on back roads,” I said as I walked back to the car shivering.
“Good idea,” he said. “I’m watching it on the news, those things are everywhere on the roads. The highways are at dead stops. Are you guys okay?”
“Yeah, we’re going to get some rest and hit it in the morning. I’ll try and call at least once a day as long as long as the cell network holds.” I climbed back into car and gently closed the door. No one roused this time.
“Okay, just get here. And for fucks sake be careful. Don’t take risks you don’t have to!” He was worried, and that worried me. Chris wasn’t the type to wear his concerns on his sleeve.
“Really? But I had this great idea. Think cow tipping, but with zombies. Or maybe zombie thunderdome?” Honestly, I really think zombiedome would be a hit.
Chris sighed. “Just get here. Oh, and thanks for inviting everyone to my house. You better bring beer when you get here.”
“I’ll see what I can do. I’ll call every six hours for as long as I can. I’ll see if I can find a CB radio, now that I told everyone to use one. You think you can dig one up?”
“I think I can handle that. We’ll talk again soon.” The small comfort I felt in talking to my brother quickly faded as the phone fell silent. The crushing loneliness of the dark and quiet barn made the car seem colder somehow. I’m usually the loner type. Quiet places usually attract antisocial creatures such as myself. However, given the circumstances the need for human interaction overrode my natural hermit tendencies.
I turned the radio back on. I didn’t want to wake Abby again, but she was already deep into her nightly coma, and I needed the background noise. The same raspy voice filled the cabin again. However something had changed. He sounded desperate, almost frantic.
“According to our sources on the ground, the crisis has suddenly and without explanation escalated exponentially. Earlier instructions for people to make their way to evacuation centers have been rescinded. Current estimates place the number of safe zones that have been overrun at over eighty-five percent.”
Sometimes I hate it when I’m right.
I expected it would happen, but knowing it doesn’t make the pill easier to swallow. The places those poor people thought to be safe havens had become their tombs.
“Automatic gunfire can be heard around our studios. Sources inside city hall tell us all police and military units are retreating. Defensive lines have fallen, and all remaining forces are currently attempting to regroup outside of the city. When asked for a comment from the mayor, we were informed the mayor is currently unaccounted for.”
Not a total loss then, I thought to myself. Yeah I know, it’s a horrible thought. I wish I could say I felt guilty for thinking it.
“If you are just joining us, as of 10:30 this evening, CDC officials as well as members from the World Health Organization have confirmed that bodies of the recently deceased are returning to life. Those who have died for any reason will, in a matter of minutes to hours, return and attack the living. It was also confirmed the reanimated bodies are eating the flesh of those they attack.
Officials claim the only known method of dealing with the ghouls is severe trauma to the brain. The brain seems to be the driving force of the corpses, so damaging the brain will stop the creatures. If the brain tissue has been destroyed after death, reanimation will not occur. Folks, I know this sounds like it has been ripped directly from the movies, but it is the truth. The dead are rising.
The city of Chicago has become a war zone. From the studio window we can see fires burning out of control across the horizon. Traffic is at a virtual standstill as accidents and abandoned checkpoints clog the streets. From our vantage point we can see the infected in almost all streets and alleys. Ladies and gentleman, they are everywhere.
This is a story that is playing out all over the world. All international travel to and from the United Stated has been cancelled as officials try and gain control of this crisis. European authorities have also banned travel across countries in an effort to control the spread of this virulent, yet unknown disease. China, who CDC officials now believe saw the very first outbreaks, have moved troops to their borders with the order to shoot anyone attempting to cross in or out of its territory.
Okay folks, we have some news coming across the wire now. The President has issued an order declaring nationwide martial law is now in effect. I am not exactly sure how that is any different than what has been going on out there already, but I guess it’s now official. So there you go.”
I chuckled at the broadcaster’s sarcasm. I leaned back into my seat prepared to catch more of the apocalypse nightly news. It made more sense for one of us to keep watch anyway. Abby was sleeping soundly, and Katie was snoring like a lumberjack. I figured even if my shoulder didn’t feel like someone was jabbing a hot poker under my skin, the cold would keep me awake.
I think I lasted ten minutes before drifting off to sleep.
Chapter Nine
It was Wednesday night when Chris’ phone rang. Normally he would have ignored a call that came as late as it had. Life on the farm started early, and his mornings were busy. Livestock didn’t usually feed themselves, unless they broke into the storage shed again.
The ink on his Army discharge papers barely had time to dry before he moved his family to the secluded Wisconsin farm. He was happy to move on to the life of a quiet farmer and family man, where the only grenades he had to worry about came from the back end of his livestock.
His first thought was to ignore the phone and go upstairs to bed. But a quick glance at the display changed his mind when he recognized his old friend’s number.
“Malcolm!” Chris smiled, cell phone pressed against his ear. “What the hell are you doing back in country? I thought you had a few more months before you guys rotated back?”
“Hello to you too!” Malcolm’s deep voice came back. “How’s life up in cheese land farmer boy?”
“Hey! There’s beer and brats up here too!” Chris laughed.
“Uh-huh. But you’ve got the Green Bay Packers!” Malcolm’s loud laughter made Chris pull the phone away from his head.
“Yeah, yeah. No state is perfect. So really, how’d you score the early release?”
The pause was slight, but it was enough for Chris to pick up on it.
“Well, you know,” Malcolm’s cheeriness had lost a tiny bit of its edge. “Close to Christmas and all, they thought it would be nice to get us home early.”
“Right. You’re a terrible liar Malcolm. You know you can be straight with me. So out with it, what’s up?”
This time, there was no denying the pause. When Malcolm spoke again, his normally jovial demeanor had vanished, replaced with hushed caution.
“Look man, something’s up,” he lowered his voice. “It started two weeks before we got our recall orders. Special
ops were pulled from every post, everywhere. It was fast too. They bugged out like their asses were on fire or something. Next thing we knew, we’re coming home.”
The phone suddenly sounded like it was getting a rub down from rough grit sandpaper. Chris could hear his friend’s muffled voice in the distance.
“Sorry, had to put you in my pocket. Security’s getting tight here. This may be the last time I can call for awhile,” he whispered.
“What the hell is going on?” Chris sat forward in his chair.
“I don’t know man. I wasn’t even done hugging my kids before we were told leave was cancelled indefinitely. East coast to west, everyone’s locking down. You know the drill, no one in or out. They’re telling the civvies something about training for major bio events. Whatever’s going on, those in the know are keeping it to themselves. Just watch your ass okay?”
“You too. Keep your head down, okay man?”
“You know it. Talk soon, brother.”
Chris sat back in his recliner, rocking himself gently as his mind worked. He should go to bed, but he couldn’t shake the feeling of dread creeping up from his toes. Malcolm was as tough as they come. If a horse ever kicked him in the head, Malcolm would end up apologizing to the horse for its new broken leg. If he was rattled, Chris was nervous.
He dialed his brother, Jason. He was still an active Marine and might know a little more than Malcolm. He let it ring until it went to voicemail. Chris wasn’t surprised. Ever since his brother had earned a Gunny’s rank, he was hard to reach on a slow day. If something was going on, it would take an act of Congress to get him to answer.
