by James Master
Working at the main cash register, Ashley heard a lot of rumors about the scuffle she witnessed earlier that day. Some of it was bullshit, but she never told the customer that, her bosses would definitely be pissed if Ashley started arguing with the customers. That was when she noticed her worst nightmare walking into the store. Ashley was a senior at John Glenn High School and her worst class happened to be Physical Education. The teacher of that class, Miss Osowsky, hated Ashley for some reason. There were only two things Ashley could think of that caused the hatred. One was her older sister Gina and in high school was a heifer. Ashley couldn’t sugar coat the truth about her sister’s weight because Gina might eat it. Osowsky hates fat people, due to their inability to run the mile. The high school requires that all students once a year run the mile for physical fitness week. The whole P.E. class would take an entire class period running it. Usually, they got done early and lollygagged about until the period ended. Osowsky was able to spend her extra time in her office playing World of Warcraft. Some of the geeks that played the game told Ashley that the gym teacher had a level thirty ogre warrior that she used to kill off all of the kids she knew played Warcraft. Anyway, Gina would walk the mile instead of running taking up all of Osowsky’s game time.
The second reason happened to be her brother Marco. The boy was one of those rebellious types that caused the old gym teacher enough frustration that it didn’t matter how well Ashley did in P.E., she was still hated. Upon entry, Osowsky scowled when she saw her behind the register and stalked past to do her shopping. Ashley would periodically watch the gym teacher’s progress every now and then, trying to decide whether she was ready to check out or not. Ashley walked up to her boss Steve and asked, “Hey Mr. Rosenstern, may I take my break now?” Steve looked up at the clock and frowned. “Not yet Ashley, Deanna is still on hers and I can’t run the register for you. It should be only a couple more minutes before she gets back from break. You’ve got a customer at your register. Hurry up, don’t keep her waiting.” Ashley turned around to see her nemesis tapping her fingers on the counter.
Ashley walked up to the register nodding to her teacher. “Sorry about the wait Miss Osowsky. I was talking to my boss. Will this be all for you today?” She scanned ten items while still not hearing an answer so she concluded the transaction. “Alrighty then, that will be $20.07 please.” She waited patiently while the old hag dug in her purse, producing a coupon. “Here that is for the tea bags.” She handed the coupon to Ashley, folding her arms. Ashley looked at the coupon and frowned. “I'm sorry Miss Osowsky, but this expired a year ago.”
She handed it back. Osowsky looked at it in her hands and scowled. “This coupon is for this store, you should honor it no matter when it expires.” When she handed the coupon back, Ashley didn't take it.
“I'm sorry, but I am not able to take the coupon. If you would like to see my manager, I can go get him.” She smiled, pleased on how the power was shifting her way. She knew gym class on Monday would be hell, but she would remember seeing the look on Osowsky's face.
Crumpling the coupon, the gym teacher paid for her groceries and turned to leave. She turned around and smiled, showing smoke-stained teeth, “I'm sure I'll see you on Monday Miss Thompson. It is the mile.” She turned and left, leaving a chill that ran up her spine.
Steve walked up next to Ashley, “That old bitch still gives me the creeps, even after twenty years.”
“You were in her one of her classes?”
He smiled. “Yep, her first class as a teacher. She failed me because I failed to climb the rope. Glad to see you stick it to her about that coupon. But you realize that you're going to fail the mile no matter how fast you run. Go on, take your break I'll cover you.”
Ashley thanked him and hurried out before he changed his mind.
She went outside to get some fresh air when she stopped at the automated doors. The doors slid open and Ashley watched as three kids from the house across the street attacked Miss Osowsky. One moment, she was putting grocery bags in her car and the next the three children jumped her from behind, forcing her to the ground. Ashley ran past the second pair of doors and into the street. She was about to run across the street, intending to help her enemy, when she heard a low rumbling noise growing closer. It reminded her of a herd of elephants.
She recalled her science teacher back in seventh grade explaining the Doppler Effect. The thought of something that loud coming closer to her was what changed her mind about helping the gym teacher so she hurried back inside.
“Steve, call 911, Osowsky is getting attacked!” Her boss hurried to the windows, a smirk on his face, waiting to hear the punch line when he saw the children savagely attacking her.
“Son of a bitch she is.” Instead of running to the phone to call for help, he ran outside crossing the street. She heard the rumbling get louder as she watched a large group of people running down the street.
Steve had a moment to look towards the mob before he was run down. A group of five people broke off from the rampaging mob and started tearing Steve to pieces. Ashley screamed attracting some of the rioter’s attention from the feast that was Steve. Continuing to scream she ran past the registers into the office, slamming the door closed behind her. Locking the door, she sat down in the chair not believing what she had just witnessed. She turned around in the chair and noticed the security cameras.
There was one monitor that displayed all ten camera views. The monitor switched from one view to the next every couple seconds. Ashley watched as the people that had brutally killed Steve entered the store. She watched in horror as she saw a mother and son in aisle six get mauled by attackers. Another view showed the rioters attacking the butcher that once tried to hit on Ashley when she first started. Ashley let out a moan followed by tears running down her cheeks. Changing views showed rioters walking down aisles. Ashley thought it odd that they weren't looting the store, just walking like they were looking for something. The monitor finally cycled back to the dead mother and son. Ashley thought she was seeing things when she noticed the son twitched his head, standing up despite the mauling he and his mother had suffered. She watched as the boy stood and started eating the mother.
The screaming was replaced by an odd moaning. Ashley heard scrapping on the opposite side of the door and was glad that Steve and Sue were paranoid people, the door was reinforced steel. There was no way whatever the things are, that they were going to break in.
A thought suddenly took hold of Ashley and she reached for the phone on the desk. She dialed her home number and waited as it rang exactly three times. Ashley didn't get anxious when no one answered the phone right away. Her mother was the type that would only answer it after three rings. She said that if it was important then they should be able to wait for three rings.
“Hello, Thompson residence.” Ashley breathed a sigh of relief when she heard her mother’s voice.
“Mom listen, it’s me Ashley. What's going on Mom? Have you heard about the rioters?”
Her mother’s voice filled with concern, “What do you mean honey? Wait a second dear, there is someone at the door.” Before she could try and warn her mother of the danger, she heard the phone being set on the lamp table in her hallway. She heard her mother opening the door gasping as she did. “What in the name of God is wrong? You look like you were attacked. Let me hel.....” The rest of the sentence was replaced with the sounds of screaming mixed with moans and the sick sound of her mother’s flesh getting stripped of its bones. Ashley screamed into the phone for her mother, but it fell on dead ears. She dropped the phone on the desk, but the sounds could still be heard so Ashley, confused and afraid, ripped the phone cable from the phone. She huddled in the corner of the office, hugging her knees to her chest and started sobbing.
*** 2 ***
Heading south from his home in South Bend, Roland traveled for about a half a day before he needed a brief rest in a patch of trees. Climbing up into the highest tree that he could, Roland tried to get some
sleep. It wasn't much of a rest, but it was safer than sleeping at a diner or hotel. When he started to move again, he noticed that his bike had a flat tire.
Roland cursed himself for not checking the pressure gauge of the tires before he headed out. He was changing it when he was attacked by a group of six zombies. The first pulled him to the ground and onto his back. The thing grabbed his arm and thrust its head down with his blood stained teeth bared, ready to tear his arm off.
Before that happened, Roland reached down into his right boot and pulled out a single shot pistol. He placed the gun under the things head and pulled the trigger. As its head burst, like a watermelon being hit with a hammer, Roland was already up and moving to his buggy. Two more zombies came up from behind him, throwing him into the buggy, knocking it, the dirt bike, and Roland to the ground.
As they came at him, Roland reached into the buggy and pulled out his father’s rifle. Aiming it, he shot each of them in the head, sending blood and brain tissue flying. Roland had some time before the others came on him so he quickly got his belt from the backpack. Strapping his gun belt on, he rose and quickly dispatched the others with shots to the head, courtesy of his revolver.
Holstering the weapon, he surveyed the damage to the bike. The tire replacement was completed before the attack and it looked to be in good shape, but little could be said of the buggy. Roland had fallen hard on it and wrecked one of the tires. It took him little time unhitching the buggy from the bike and putting on his pack. He attacked his rifle to the holster he had fashioned on it from one of his previous hunting trips. Cinching the straps that went around his waist he started the bike like nothing had happened. Picking up his aviator sunglasses from the ground, he left the battle and drove south, the outline of Walkerton already in view.
Roland knew that going into large cities during a zombie infestation was suicidal. If he could avoid doing it, he would. Walkerton wasn't a metropolis, but it wasn't a hamlet either, but there wasn't much choice: he needed supplies. Having been to Walkerton before, he knew where everything in the town was located. It was only a few hours till sunset and he didn't want to go in at night, he parked the bike against the tree and climbed up it to get a semi-good night’s rest.
His back against the tree, he reached into his vest pocket and pulled out an energy bar. It was one of those all natural deals that tasted like shit due to the lack of preservatives and sweetener. Roland didn't want to get all hopped on stuff that might not be around if the outbreak got any larger so he was sure to stock up on the natural things like this crap.
*** 3 ***
Roland watched refugees walking out of the town north the way Roland had traveled. It reminded him of the pictures of the refugees in Kosovo; Families and single people alike huddling together on the side of the road trying to travel to some safe haven. Many were sick and getting ready to turn. Roland decided to risk exposure by climbing down and talk to the group’s leaders. He slowly walked up to the group of people with his hands nowhere near his gun. There were a couple of smart guys who knew the danger in strangers and yelled for Roland to stop. He did the only smart thing; he stopped where he was and waited for further instructions. The man that yelled had a rifle with him pointed at Roland.
“Chris, go get Avery.” The man kept his gun pointed at Roland but didn't try talking to him either. Roland watched as the group was called to stop. A man appeared from the group and walked up to Roland's guardian.
“What the hell is it Tucker? We have to get away from those psychos.”
Tucker nodded towards Roland, “He just appeared from that bunch of trees. I didn't know if I should just let him mix with us or not.” Tucker looked Roland up and down for a minute without saying anything.
“Let him join, we could use all the help we can get. Those bastards might come looking for us.” Tucker lowered his weapon with a sigh of relief. Roland didn't think that the man would use his weapon anyway, but this wasn't a time to chance his luck. Instead, he called out to the leader, “Avery? I need to talk to you about those wounded.”
Avery stopped and turned eying Roland again, “What about them?”
“They are going to turn into those psychotic bastards you mentioned earlier. They need to be dealt with, sooner the better.” Avery strode over to Roland. The man wasn't all that imposing, not like Roland anyway. He was five foot six, bald on top, but with hair wrapped on the sides of his head. A lot of them were turning gray prematurely. If Roland had to guess it was the psychotic bastards that were graying them.
“How in the name of Christ Almighty do you know about them? Who are you?” The man loosed the thin blue business tie he was wearing.
Roland shrugged, “I'm nobody important, but I thought I should let you guys know that when they die, they'll turn into zombies and attack the uninfected. Rinse and repeat.”
Tucker was the one that started laughing first. Then the others that were standing with them joined in and soon enough Avery was with them. He dried his eyes on his rolled-up shirt sleeve and eyed Roland again.
“Mister, you are about as crazy as the people down in that town. They aren't zombies; they're just crazy or something, rabies maybe. Hell, it could be something in the water supply. I don't want you with us though if you're going to spread your Stephen King ideas with the rest of the group. They have been in too much and don't need someone spewing crazy things like zombies. So it's your choice: Leave or shut up about the zombie thing.”
Roland could see that he was getting nowhere with the group’s leaders so he decided to retreat back up into the tree. Later in the night, Roland could hear the screams and moans coming from the party.
*** 4 ***
Roland woke up around three in the morning to the sounds of footsteps from underneath the tree. He instinctively drew the revolver and thumbed the hammer back. He saw that the footsteps were coming from uninfected people.
He recognized Tucker's voice calling out, “Hey Bob, Chris. Check out this bike. Wonder what it's doing out here?”
Roland saw the shadow, Tucker he suspected, climbed onto the bike and Roland put a bullet in his head. The guy slumped against the tree as if he were sleeping. The others, Chris and Bob, turned and ran the way they had come, leaving their dead companion behind. Roland didn't want to kill any more people tonight so he made sure that the two guys weren't coming back before he shimmied down the trunk of the tree. He pushed the body off the bike and started it up, heading for Walkerton.
*** 5 ***
The sun was rising when Roland arrived at the outskirts of the town. He stopped short of the welcome sign with words in a fancy lettering saying, “Welcome to the town of Walkerton. Population 1207”. Roland parked the bike behind the sign. When he finished chaining the bike to one of the sign posts, he began to walk into town. He walked down the empty street and took in the horror of it all. The total number of refugees he had seen running out of town was around eight or nine hundred. That meant that there were still four to five hundred dead, alive, or undead in the little town of Walkerton.
If there was any sign of the living, Roland didn't notice. There were plenty of the dead, though. Roland saw many corpses in doorways and windows. He made sure that he walked around the bodies instead of walking over them. There was really no way of telling if they were staying dead. Once, he had walked over a dead body, one without arms or legs, just a head, and torso. When he walked over it, the neck reared up and tried to bite him. Roland ended its undead life with a bullet to the brain.
When he made it to the four-way stop, he turned right and headed for half a mile, the grocery store Steve and Sue's coming into view. He had been there a couple of times when he vacationed in Walkerton. He visited his mother who lived near the town in the nursing home Melvin's Merry Manor. When he shopped at the grocery store, he couldn't help but notice that the cashiers were very smug. As he approached the store, he noticed the automatic doors were opening and closing on the head of a dead person. He cautiously stepped over the corpse and
walked through the second pair of doors.
The grocery store was trashed. There were dead bodies everywhere; many of them had worked here. He kicked them, but quickly pulled his foot back just in case they were zombies. When he was reassured they were dead, he made his way quietly to the manager’s office, which was usually in the back of the store. When he reached the sixth aisle, he encountered three zombies eating a chunk of what looked like rare meat. He was moving in for a closer look when he stepped on a spilled box of Fruit Loops. The crunching sound made all three of the zombies stop their feast immediately to stare at Roland. All three moaned in unison and jumped up, charging towards Roland.
Roland stepped back into the main aisle, drawing his revolver. The first zombie jumped at Roland, missing him by a mere fraction of an inch. The zombie slammed into a wall of Coca-Cola two liters, sending them cascading to the floor, exploding as they hit and spraying soda everywhere. The second zombie slipped on the soda and fell on top of the first zombie. Roland grinned, “Where is Funniest Home Videos when you need them?”
Firing a shot, the zombie died a second time, blood mixing with Coke on the floor. Roland continued to step cautiously backward, not seeing the third zombie. Hearing a moan behind him, he dropped to the ground, spun 180 degrees, and pointed a gun at a regular person.
“NO!”
An uninfected girl that looked to be in her early twenties shouted, her hand held out as if to shield her from bullets. Roland stood up after a second but didn't holster his gun.
“Who are you?” he asked as he studied her. She had blonde hair and brown eyes, stood around five feet tall, possibly a hundred and fifty pounds. Roland identified her as a worker at the store because she wore the same smock.
“I work here. My name is Ashley Thompson. I....” she didn't finish, just staring past Roland. Again, Roland dropped to the ground and aimed at the zombie. The bullet found a new home in the zombie’s brain, but the momentum that the zombie had caused it to crash into Roland. Roland was shocked up to find that he couldn't get out from under the zombie. Ashley was still screaming after Roland had killed the zombie.
