Detroit Reanimated
Page 2
Lights began turning on up and down the block from neighbors who came out to see what was causing the disturbance. Some started to walk toward the disturbed old man.
“What the hell, Dad!” William shouted. “Your shoulder is bleeding! Who is that guy?”
“Get inside!” Irwin yelled. “Hey! Someone call the cops! Help us here!”
The man had gotten up to slowly follow Irwin and William as they hurried back into the house. Irwin slammed the door shut and leaned against it. He regretted looking over at his right shoulder to find his collar bone was snapped in two. Along with severe bleeding, both sides stuck out through the skin.
“William, go call 911! Tell them I'm hurt bad! Tell them there is also a crazy old man outside!”
Irwin took off his shirt, bunched it up as best as he could between his left hand and leg. He pressed it against his shoulder to try and apply pressure. Irwin’s head began to spin while the old man hammered at the door.
“Dad, I can’t get through! It keeps giving me a busy signal!” William yelled from Irwin’s den.
“Keep trying,” Irwin said.
Irwin marched away from the door to the den. Grabbing a northern civil war officer’s sword that hung on the wall, Irwin reluctantly took it down. He asked William to take the blade out of its scabbard. William did and handed the sword back to his father.
Irwin marched back, threw open the door and stabbed the old man through the mouth. The blade went out through the back. The old man limply fell to the ground when Irwin let go of the sword. Irwin struggled to get back to the den, where he collapsed into his desk chair. Fatigue quickly claimed him while the spinning increased.
“Did you get anything yet?” Irwin asked.
William shook his head negatively. He approached his father and wrapped his arms around him.
“Why won’t anyone come?” William cried.
“It’s alright, Will. It’s alright. Keep trying,” Irwin said, growing weaker from the pain and loss of blood. Something else seemed to be happening to Irwin and he began to feel ill.
Around four in the morning, Irwin had begun to sweat profusely. His body radiated intense heat. Diane had placed in a thermometer that stuck out from his mouth. William and Emmett moved the dead old man out onto the lawn. Diane was unable to reach the police, or find anyone to help. Neighbors merely watched from their windows, with no desire to get involved.
Diane took the thermometer out and read it. 106.9! Irwin shook violently and complained about being cold. He began to cough uncontrollably while vomiting and spitting blood into an ice cream pail.
“William, please go and get your father a blanket,” Diane asked sharply as her voice trembled with worry.
William obeyed and immediately raced off to fetch one.
“Please, just stop! Get away from me!” Irwin screamed. His arms flailed wildly through the air. “Go away! Please, mom? Make them go away!”
“What is it, Irwin? Make who go away?” Diane tried to say calmly, but helplessness made her cry.
William had returned, but the appearance of his father draped the boy in fear. He ran outside and pleaded for someone to help, but no one came...
-----
The next morning, Evan woke up from a knock on his door. He stood up light-headed and groggy, sluggishly put on some pants before he answered. He stopped and looked at the clock. 5:30? He continued toward the door with a scowl. He peeked out the peephole to find a police officer waiting. The officer knocked again and Evan opened the door with a fake smile.
“Morning, Officer. What can I do for you?” Evan asked.
“I apologize, sir. I didn't mean to wake you, but we’re informing people about a mandatory evacuation. Could I have your name please?”
Evan gave the officer a suspicious look. Something was wrong.
“Why do you need that?” Evan asked. “Didn’t you get the guest manifest from the hotel?”
“We just have to verify you are who you are supposed to be. You have no idea what we have been finding here on just this floor alone.”
“Evan Carter," Evan said. He watched as other cops passed by and read the officer’s last name. “What’s going on, Officer Silver?”
Behind Evan, his phone began to ring with the ‘Rawhide’ tone he designated for Irwin.
“That’s all I needed, Mister Carter,” The officer began to walk away until something noticeably occurred to him. “Evan Carter? You wouldn’t be the writer of ‘Hero-Villain,’ would you?”
“In the flesh,” Evan confirmed to the officer's delight. “Are you a fan?”
“Well I’ll be damned, I most certainly am, sir. My oldest son is as well! We have all of your issues back to the first one.”
“Hold on just a second. I’ll get you an autographed copy of the newest unreleased issue for you and your son. Come on in if you want to.”
Officer Silver followed Evan in. The phone stopped ringing, which gave Evan the time to grab a copy and a marker. A few seconds later the phone released a chime indicating Irwin left a voice-mail. The phone began to ring again, but it stopped after a few rings.
“What’s your kid’s name?” Evan asked.
“Eliot. Actually I have two sons and like me, my oldest loves your work. My other son isn’t into comics yet,” Officer Silver said.
“Get out!” Evan said sharply. The officer gave him a puzzled look. “That’s my son’s name! It’s a small world!”
“No kidding. You had me going for a minute there,” Officer Silver said with a grin.
“What's your name?” Evan asked.
“It’s Douglas Silver.”
‘To Douglas and Eliot Silver, we love our fans!’ Evan scrawled on the comic. “There you go, Douglas. Stay safe out there."
“Doug! Yo, dipshit! Come on, man! We got two more floors to cover! Stop fooling around and get your ass to work!” another cop said to Doug, prodding him.
“Well, that's my cue,” Doug said. “Thanks again for this. My kid will love it. Take care, Mister Carter.”
“You can call me Evan. Take care, and don't mention the comic.”
Doug Silver left and continued to knock on doors to inform guests to stay inside. Evan picked up the phone to call Irwin back, but there was no answer. Evan listened to the voice-mails, which were packed with agents and marketers. It would take hours before he would get to Irwin’s message.
Evan tried to call Colleen on their home line since his wife hated to use her cell phone. She only carried one for emergencies in her purse, and it was usually powered off.
Colleen was just preparing to wake up Eliot and assumed the call was another marketer. A half hour later, she would regret not taking the call. Evan hung up after the voice-mail box refused to work properly. Evan had forgotten to clear the typically full voice-mail box before he left.
-----
The fall of Phoenix began with a single homeless man who passed away alone. He rose a few minutes later. After an hour, a group of men and women, battered and blood-covered lumbered through trashed-filled alleys. They staggered or crawled into the homeless tent city. Displaced children watched helplessly as their parents were devoured alive, and soon the children mercilessly suffered the same fate. The undead citizens of the tent city reinforced the ones that had taken them.
Law enforcement sirens screamed through suburban roads to issue evacuation orders to direct residents to four massive refugee camps quickly set up throughout the city. Men, women and children packed whatever they could whether necessary for survival or not. Some had packed hair driers and full make up kits while leaving first aid kits and medication behind.
Many others ignored the instructions. They had decided to flee the city, either taking whatever vehicle they owned or stealing whatever was better. Some people even jumped others to obtain their means to escape.
At Karamba Night Club, a Hispanic man and his acquaintance walked outside after a night of celebration. They were walking towards his apartment when they came acr
oss a battered vagrant woman who trudged up the street toward them.
“Damn, girl, what the hell are you on?” the man quipped drunkenly in Spanish, mocking the dilapidated woman. She growled at him unnaturally. She moved swiftly toward the inebriated man. He noticed bloodstains on her once bright yellow dress and before the pair knew it, she collided with the man and embraced him.
Her teeth sank into his throat that released a geyser of blood from the wound. Through drunken stupidity, his date began to strike the bloodied woman with her purse. The lifeless woman took the foolish assault as an invitation for a second helping.
A police car sped down Van Buren Street with the siren blaring, racing towards a reported disturbance on East Jefferson Street. Someone had managed to reach the police department and reported a group of ‘drunks’ that were chasing people around and growling psychotically.
The squad car skidded around a corner. He immediately slammed into two people who chased a local MC club member. The car screeched to a halt. After a moment, a single police officer got out. He looked over the crippled bodies on the ground that he feared he had killed.
“What did I do?” the cop asked anxiously.
“You saved my life! Those weren’t normal people!” the biker shouted.
The cop knelt down next to one of bodies - a man it seemed - and discovered he was missing one arm completely and most of another. There was no way he could have caused this type of injury.
“What the fuck happened to him?” the cop asked the biker in a demanding voice.
The cop waited for the biker to tell him what happened when he noticed the biker’s eyes grow wide. Something clamped onto the cop’s hand. The panic stricken officer saw the limbless body had awoken and crawled closer to him. Three fingers were removed completely and the freakish attacker desired more. Two other reanimated people arrived during the chaos and took the officer down. The biker could only watch, immobilized in shock.
-----
In Detroit, the den in Irwin’s house was silent. Morning sunlight pierced through the blinds. The silence was broken when a phone began to ring. After six rings, it stopped. A bare foot fell on the phone, creating a loud snap. A head spun to look for the sound as a silhouette of a man moved laboriously toward Irwin’s desk, bumping into it. The man made a strained ‘ugh’ sound from the impact. He turned slowly to his right and listed out of the room.
Something clattered in the kitchen and the silhouette responded in a feverish walk. He groaned as a mix of internal fluids dribbled down his chin. A beam of light revealed Irwin. His eyes had turned an unnaturally yellow with spider web-like tendrils that ran through them. His face was gaunt for a man who was supposed to be two hundred and fifty pounds.
William remained hidden, firmly clutching an aluminum baseball bat. Blood ran freely from a gaping wound over his right eye. It was caused by being slammed into a glass table. After Irwin reanimated, William had evaded being grabbed when his father reached for him, but hit the table. The boy had ignored the pain from the wound when he ran into the kitchen. He grabbed the aluminum bat that he often kept in a corner outside of the pantry.
A putrid smell flowed into the kitchen as Irwin sought out the sound. Irwin had always protected William from monsters, but now he hunted for his son as the monster himself.
The phone began to ring over William’s head that caused Irwin to follow dangerously close to where William hid. The phone rang four times before the answering machine activated.
“Hello! This is Irwin and the Jamison residence. We are currently away from the house or occupied. If you need to reach me, William, Emmett or Diane, please leave a message. If you are a fan of Hero/Villain, I appreciate your call, but I would also appreciate privacy at my residence. Thank you, and talk to you soon.”
Irwin moved briskly around the kitchen, but collided with the island. William quelled a cry by biting his lip and grasped the bat even tighter. Behind Irwin, a crutch slammed down hard against his back.
“Hey Irwin, you home, dweeblet?” said Evan on the answering machine. “What the hell is going on over there? Is everyone ok? Someone kept calling me, but my voice mail box is full. Someone call me back. I can't leave my room until the cops let me. Seriously Irwin, call me back!”
Irwin growled when he turned to rush the attacker. He grabbed the attacker on both sides of the face and sank his teeth into the forehead of his own father.
Emmett screamed from the sudden pain. Desperately, Emmett fought to get free from Irwin’s grasp, but Irwin took another bite that tore off Emmett’s left brow. As they both fell to the floor, William overcame his fear and took action. While content with his current score, William struck Irwin repeatedly over the head with the bat. Vast amounts of blood splattered onto the boy’s body. After the heart rending attack, his father lay lifelessly on the floor.
William quickly checked on his grandfather to find Emmett that wasn’t breathing. Desperation and fear gripped the young boy like an old rusted vice that refused to let him escape. William forgot his CPR training out of panic and shook his grandfather violently.
“Grandpa, please! Grandma, I think grandpa’s dead! Grandma, please come down here!”
There was no response from Diane. Emmett’s heart simply gave up from the exertion and blood loss. William slumped down against the wall and began crying. Through his tears, he looked back and forth at the still bodies of his father and grandfather.
“What am I going to do?” William cried.
William stood up to go upstairs. Emmett’s upper body slowly rose after William got up. He glowered right at the boy as William ran for the staircase. Emmett grabbed hold of his grandson’s leg and pulled William in. Emmett took a large bite out of the boy’s left shin. William fought back with kicks as Emmett bit into William’s thigh and hip. Severed arteries and vessels began to gush uncontrollably.
The boy continued trying to kick and beat his grandfather off of him, but the man was much too strong. William grew weak and faint quickly. Emmett ripped into William, ending the young boy’s life.
“William! Emmett, stop hurting William!” Diane screamed as she moved downstairs, but she lost her footing and fell. Waiting for her at the base of the staircase was her reanimated husband...
Two hours passed by at the Jamison home. The front door to the house was wide open. Only the corpse of Irwin remained. Nowhere in sight were the bodies of William, Emmett or Diane. Outside, people were running frantically, trying to escape the horror.
A small group of Detroit police officers, meant to gather residents and direct them to the Farmington Hills refugee shelter, had gotten sidetracked while helping citizens flee the chaos in the streets of Irwin’s neighborhood. They came across a young boy with multiple bite wounds across his body, including a large area of his chest torn away.
“Jesus, Lieutenant, what do we do with him?” an officer asked.
The lieutenant had no answers for his men. He was stunned at the sight of the blood-covered boy.
Three of the officers moved forward and tried to restrain the unruly boy. He snapped his jaws at them and swung his arms. He bit a forearm of one cop that caused a fountain of blood to spray uncontrollably. With blood making things slippery, the cops struggled to bring the frenzied boy to the ground.
The boy clawed one officer’s right eyebrow and deeply bit into another’s hand. During the chaos, the remaining officers failed to see six more soulless beings slowly moving toward them.
One of the beings, an old woman, bit an officer’s shoulder blade, infecting him with the unknown sickness. He bashed at her with his glock. Within minutes, most of the officers had been overrun and butchered. Their plans to regain order died with them. The last remaining officer ran in panic, reporting that higher support was needed.
-----
Evan hung up his phone, desperately wishing his best friend had answered. He took a deep breath. He tried his brother, Mark, who instantly answered.
“Evan! Hey brother, I can’t
talk long. The station called out everyone,” Mark said in a hurry.
“Mark, I’m actually freaked out right now,” Evan said as his head swam in confusion and fear.
“I know, brother. You aren’t alone. Parts of Detroit are completely out of control,” Mark said with a hint of fear. “Most people are going to these refugee camps.”
“Jesus, Mark! Can you please tell me what the hell is going on? I got a call from Irwin, but I can't reach him now! He’s supposed to leave tonight for this convention. I’m worried about him."
“I don't know much about what’s happening, but we’re supposed to be herding people to some government shelters. I’m on my way to Dearborn where it's completely fucked. Look, call Colleen. Have her pack to leave Detroit. Don’t let her go to those shelters, ok? I mean it! Tell her to go somewhere safe. Hey, Evan, I love you, little brother! Use your head and get the fuck out of there!”
“You too, bro,” Evan said faintly before he hung up. He tried calling Colleen and his parents to no avail. He tried Colleen again, but it went straight to voice-mail. “Come on, dammit!”
“You have reached Colleen Carter, please leave a message.” *BEEP!*
“Colleen! Please answer! Look, get some stuff packed and get out of town! You and the kids have got to get out now!” Evan hung up and started to pace back and forth. Feeling completely helpless, he called again, but the call again went to voice-mail. “Come on!”
Evan went to sit down at the end of the bed. He covered his hands over his face.
“Why did I leave them? Why didn’t I take them with me?” he whispered.
Just then, fear overtook Evan.
‘What the fuck is going on?’ he thought.
A pounding on a door down the hall filled the suddenly silent room. The pounding grew louder and finally reached his door.
“Mister Carter? Evan Carter? It’s Officer Silver!”