by Daniel White
Knowing he had to be as fast as he ever had been, he picked a spot to land before he bent to grab the lighter. In one lightning fast motion he bent to grab a lighter and then sprang and flipped into a forwards summersault. The landing wasn’t great; at least there was no one directly on top of him. A powerful hand grabbed his shoulder; he ended the threat with a hard elbow to the nose and a trachea shattering chop to the throat. With his right arm still holding the shotgun he swung it broadly and cleared a couple of more out of his way, blowing off the leg of one of them.
He was only able to walk one step towards the front of the store before another surge threatened to end him. One more shotgun swing cleared a little more room, but now he felt them from behind as well. The glass from the front of the store that the zombies blew out was almost a yard to his left. Almost without thinking he swung the weapon once more as he spun his agile body back towards the counter. A deafening shotgun blast destroyed the two between him and the counter.
Just as he felt a hand on his collar, he leaped onto the counter, took one leap towards the glass then dove outside. He rolled through the glass shards as they embedded themselves into his body, but little wounds didn’t matter if you wanted to live. A gander wasn’t necessary to know they were chasing him, so he just slung the shotgun to his back and ran across the station.
He reached the pump and quickly dislodged the fuel nozzle, knocking the handle to the on position in the process. He snatched the lighter from his denim pocket, and looked at the mob coming for him and knew this was it. If the fuel nozzle was dry then he would be dead within minutes. He had no other options that he saw.
The truck was out of gas, and they would catch him if he ran on foot since there was zero chance of finding cover. The moment of truth arrived and he pulled the nozzle’s trigger.
The sight of the fuel spurting from the nozzle might have been the best thing he had ever seen. He lit the lighter and thumbed it to stay on and threw it into the gaggle of zombies. When fuel and flame met, the flame lit up with explosive power. They kept pilling into the flame like the mindless attackers they were, consumed by flames. They didn’t scream while they burned.
Within minutes they were all either dead or running wildly aflame. Eric was watching them and the old gas station go up in explosive flames. He sat on the ground a safe distance away and thought of what he could do now. There would be no gasoline for the cool truck from this station, and he really didn’t feel like walking even if it were safe.
His head in his hands, he heard Bart before he felt him lick his singed arms. Eric didn’t bother petting his assumed K9 friend, but just looked at him. Bart was looking back and forth from the station to Eric. He whined lightly and Eric responded, “So sue me. I didn’t plan for the part where the entire station went up too.” He sighed heavily and stood up to walk back towards his home town. It was a little shorter walk, and at least he knew his way around. At first Bart didn’t walk with him but when he did join in, whined heavily. Eric said sharply, “Ah shut up. We’re better off on foot than dead anyway.”
**
Chapter 2
“Define difficult.”
Kurt Hawkins swallowed hard as the commanding voice on the other end of the phone demanded something that was crazy. What did he mean define difficult? At least Kurt assumed the heavily distorted voice was a man. There was no way to be sure.
“I will repeat, define difficult Mr. Hawkins.”
“Right um,” he fumbled with papers at his makeshift desk, “I heard you, I was just gathering data. Wait, just a minute.” What the hell did he mean? Kurt was just a normal guy that found himself in a bad situation and now some disembodied voice wanted to know why this ridiculous mission to find the thing he called only “The Source” was difficult. He didn’t want to make this guy mad after what had happened in the office building he worked in. Not more than a month ago the entire staff was attacked and slaughtered by zombies. It still sounded crazy, even though he had seen it. Somehow the fact that Kurt had found a way to survive, coupled with him technically working at a place where scientists and physicists work, made him an expert for finding the damn source. Source for what, Kurt wondered? What could he say? Several things came to mind.
I’m a small, weak man with no street skills to tough my way through life. I happen to be scared to death of these creatures. You haven’t told me what the source is or even what it looks like. I can’t help it if the stupid thing you want me to find isn’t anywhere to be found. Get someone else to do your dirty work. There is the small fact that I work in the mail room at the lab’s office, and know almost nothing about viruses or science in general.
Kurt almost opened his mouth to say one or more of these scattered thoughts. What was the worst that could happen? As if the voice on the other end of the line could perceive his thoughts, it said, “Remember what they did to your friends and coworkers Mr. Hawkins. You don’t want a legion of them released on you do you?” Fear gripped Kurt’s chest and he thought any threats on his life might be meaningless in a few short seconds. A heart attack would have been too easy of an out for him though. He should have known.
“No! Um, no sir,” he stammered, “Uh ma’am or…” The strange sounding voice cut him off with a sick sounding, “Good, I thought so. Now how about you answer my question?” Kurt forgot all about his grandstanding and went with a simple, “It’s hard! I can’t figure out where to look. I’m always looking over my shoulder for those,” Kurt shuttered just thinking of the gross things, “Zombies. I will do it though. I… you can count on me. Just don’t send any of those monsters my way. Please I beg you!”
“So you can do it then?”
“Yes.” Kurt answered with a wavering voice. There was a long moment of silence before the voice finally answered, “Good Mr. Hawkins, because you have no other option that will leave you alive. I expect to hear something soon. Go to the Brown Banking building downtown. Go to the office with the name I gave you. It’s on the bottom floor. Don’t fail again Mr. Hawkins.”
The line went dead and Kurt dropped his head. He knew this couldn’t end well, but he had to do what the man said or the only end would be his life ending. What was the world coming to? He thought getting a start in the mail room at D.C.L, the Disease Control Labs, a local disease control center would be a great start to his education and quest to one day work as a pharmacist. Now at the age of 21, he found himself the lone survivor of the gaggle of people that were there that day.
He still remembered the panic on the faces of his fellow mail room workers when the emails began rolling in. It wasn’t the type of mail room that existed a long time ago where people manually sorted mail. He worked in the IT department of the sprawling building. Since the regular workers thought of his department as the ones emails went through, they dubbed it the mail room.
When things started going terribly wrong that day, they were the ones that saw the surge of emails. Most of the employees in the mail room that day were not affected by the virus. It seemed to be those that hadn’t been there in a few days that suddenly showed up as mindless walking corpses. Regardless of the reasons, Kurt had run to the bathroom to try and hide.
A couple of zombies had already been in there so he sprinted out of the front door. As long as he waited for someone else to run to safety, no one did. He wasn’t sure if that made him a survivor or a coward for running from the fight, but it didn’t matter. No sooner had he figured out that he was the lone survivor than an email came across his Smartphone.
Reviewing emails is what he did, so considering the laundry list of protection his phone had, he opened it. It was a dire mistake he wished he never made. The video that began to play upon opening the email stated that he was about to be contacted via the phone that had opened the email. It said that his information was theirs, and if he didn’t answer the phone that zombies would suddenly be very numerous in his life. Fear pierced him deeply. At the time, he was overjoyed to be alive and utterly terrified of the zombie lik
e humans attacking, that he did everything the person on the other end of the line said.
Now here he was in another stuffy ransacked office building being forced once again to do the bidding of a nameless voice; a face with no name. As he exited, he hoped that he would be overwhelmed by a group of these sad, emotionless zombies that were people just a month ago and end it for him. If anything at all came from abiding by the cursed demands of this threatening asshole on the other end of the phone, perhaps he would one day figure out what had happened.
Either way, if this was what humanity was becoming, there was really no reason Kurt could see to keep being a part of it. Sadly, he was entirely too afraid to do anything about that by his own hand. He gathered his things, his damned phone, and left the building. His next destination is in the next city over. It wasn’t more than a few minutes driving, but with this fool electric car he was suckered into buying, it would certainly prove to take twice the normal time.
He wasn’t more than half way there when something in the distance caught the beam of his headlights in a flash. He screeched to a halt, wondering what zombies looked like in headlights. Deer he knew, and dogs he knew but not zombies. His thoughts were interrupted when the eyes shone again. It was a dog! What the heck was a dog doing walking down this old back road? Always one to help animals, Kurt took in the rather large dog standing in the road in front of his car. Kurt was still entirely too scared to jump out of his car, but he did open the door and stand half in and half out of the car.
“Hey, what are you doing out here all alone?” he called to the dog. No answer, of course. Nothing drastic happened either, so he stood taller with both feet now outside of his car as his fear subsided. He opened his mouth to speak to the dog again and try to convince him to move aside.
“I could ask you the same question friend.” Kurt nearly jumped clear on top of his car as the voice spoke from the darkness to the right of the road. Quickly he began to fumble with the door and try to get back in.
Then he stepped into the lights aside the dog. His stride was confident and content. He seemed like he was unaffected by everything. Clearly he wasn’t, or he wouldn’t have taken his dog for a walk at night, on a dark road when the fucking zombie apocalypse just happened.
Kurt noticed his dark clothing was a bit torn, but otherwise the man seemed to be relatively calm. There was sadness or some terrible darkness about him that he couldn’t quite place, but one thing was for sure; he was no zombie. Neither was the dog for that matter.
Finally when his heart returned to a somewhat normal rhythm he said, “Um yeah, I’m just kind of heading into town. I have some, um, business there you know.” The dark haired man who clearly was tall, lean and strong spoke in a sarcastic tone, “Business? Buddy I don’t know what is going on back there, but if its business in any way then we need to go back that way. There is nothing but cold death this way.”
Kurt knew already that the virus was more widespread than just one city. Apparently this guy didn’t. Still, he couldn’t exactly come out and tell him what he was doing when he didn’t even know. Instead he just laughed quickly, “No it’s all death back there too. I just have something I have to see. That’s all.” The stranger seemed to grow sad again, but it was hard to tell in the dark. When he looked back up there was only the same cold stare, “How about a ride. Wherever you’re going, it’s better than walking.”
Kurt looked at him and thought for a minute. He really didn’t need company for whatever he was going to be told to do at the next stop. His disembodied voiced friend wouldn’t like it very much. But then again, he wouldn’t have to know now would he? That made the decision for him.
It would be his quiet form of rebellion that he could get away with without endangering his life any more than he already had. “Okay but I’m not sure if he will fit.” The man looked back to the dog as he walked to the door and shrugged. Kurt stared in awe as he tossed two wooden stakes; two powerful looking handguns, and a sawed off shotgun into the backseat then looked up and said, “It’s not my dog. Leave his ass.”
The dog had a plan of his own and hopped in through the open door on Kurt’s side, settling into the backseat about as easy as a large buck deer might. Feeling slightly less confident than he did moments before, Kurt gulped and sat in the driver’s seat. “You have a destination or a name?”
The man didn’t even look to answer, “Wherever you are headed is fine with me. Eric Bayne; the dog is Bart.” He countered, “Friends call you?” Eric answered, “My friends call me Eric.” Kurt smiled, “So, I can call you Eric?” Eric still didn’t look at Kurt, “All my friends are dead. Call me Bayne.” Kurt didn’t say anything else as he drove into town. He couldn’t quite shake the feeling that the guy he picked up was possibly even more dangerous than the man on the other end of the line.
**
Eric almost felt a little bad for the way he had treated the kid that stopped and picked him up. The only reason he didn’t was he smelled something off about him. It seemed like he was up to something, or stressed over something not quite right. Sure, it could simply be that he was frightened to death of zombies and was still spooked over Eric surprising him. He didn’t think that was likely. He might very well be terrified of zombies, but then who wasn’t.
It wasn’t until he remembered how the kid stumbled over having business to take care of, that Eric was certain. Something other than the clammy, sweat drenched shirt the kid was wearing stunk. The only business that was going on now was surviving this mess. Whatever this guy was into, it really wasn’t something he cared about, but at least it would give him something to do. Plus, the kid had a car that apparently didn’t run on gasoline. That was reason enough to ride with anyone that didn’t wear deodorant.
Realizing that he still didn’t know his name, Eric thought maybe he ought to ask before he eventually died. He knew that as wormy as the little dude was, he could still be some kind of enemy in this crazy new world. He didn’t trust anyone as far as he could throw them. The lines on the side of the road were threatening to put him to sleep.
“So you know I’m Bayne,” he said scaring the kid once again. Eric shot him a look of mixed pity and irritation, “Sorry to scare you again. Care to enlighten me what your name is?” The kid looked away from Eric and out of the driver’s side window. Then he stammered, “Kur… ah… I mean Ken Jones. You um can call me Ken.”
Eric rolled his eyes slightly, “Anyone ever tell you that people look to the left when they lie?”
“No, but hey I couldn’t look away from the road too long.”
Eric smirked, “Point taken Ken.” He waited a few beats then said, “Anyone ever tell you you’re a shitty liar?”
He looked down and then to the road. There was only silence in response; Eric figured he wasn’t getting an answer to that question. Just before he started trying to think of another way to draw him out, the kid answered, “Kurt Hawkins. My name is Kurt, people call me Kurt and you can call me Kurt. How about him?” He indicted the dog filling most of the back seat.
“Well, he’s a little shy around strangers. It might be a bit before he talks to you at all.” Eric repressed a smirk, just barely. Normally he wasn’t quite this big of an ass to people but this Kurt kid just made it so easy. Already his mind was somewhere besides zombies.
“Very funny Bayne. Does he have a name? Also if he isn’t your dog then why is he walking and riding with you?”
Eric looked off into the darkness, wondering briefly how many were really out there. How long could he run from fate and survive? After a few moments he answered, “Bartholomew is his name but I changed it to Bart when he walked up. I’m not sure who he belongs too, but I get the feeling he is the one allowing me to walk with him, not the other way around.” Eric tapped the door with his knuckles showing a level of relaxedness that Hawkins could only dream about. “So you remember the part about how you aren’t good at lying?”
He snickered slightly, “Yeah.”
“
What are you really doing driving from one city to the next at night after the zombie apocalypse? You don’t strike me as the zombie hunting type Hawkins.”
“Well it actually is business,” Hawkins said.
Eric thought he was telling the truth that time, but that still didn’t explain why. “Okay, but what kind of business would lead a squirrely little fellow like you out into the darkness with the walking undead.” He added smiling, “No offense.”
Hawkins seemed thoughtful for a few moments and clearly was more uncomfortable just having to think about whatever his real mission was. In no way did Eric want the guy to think he cared, but he needed to give him something if he planned on getting some information. Even if it was just for kicks, “Look, I get it. I don’t trust you either. The only reason I’m in this car is that I know you aren’t a zombie and that beats the hell out of the rest of the people I’ve been around for the past month. At least you know I’m no zombie. Come on Hawkins, let it out. You look like you’re about to puke or something.”
