Plague Z: Outbreak [A Zombie Apocalypse Novel]

by Max Danzig

  “Nothing,” Peter replied.

  “Are you sure you want to go?”

  “Positive.”

  “And what if no one else does?” Rachel asked.

  “Tough. I'll go on my own.” Peter answered.

  “And when are you planning to go?”

  “As soon as I can. I’m thinking at daylight so I can see where we’re going.”

  Fired up with a new found enthusiasm and purpose, the three survivors talked into the early morning hours making their plans.

  Chapter 21

  Once Peter decided to leave that was it, he was going. It made sense. No one was sure what would happen next, and no one knew how safe they would be. Many of them agreed they should move on, but only if it became necessary. Most also agreed getting out of the town made sense, but none of them had the courage to leave. They were scared and just sat there waiting in the Community Center for something to happen.

  The thought of taking those first few tentative steps outside their new found comfort zone terrified many of them into complacency. Peter stood in the middle of the Community Center, and told the survivors why they should leave. Like docile sheep they nodded their heads and mumbled agreement. Five minutes later, Mike Fordham and Eddie stood up in front of the crowd. They had their say why they thought it was better to stay and wait for however long they needed. Again, like sheep, they shook their heads and mumbled agreement. The deal was done, and the matter closed.

  Peter felt like it was him, Steve and Rachel against the rest of them. He started identifying more with the lifeless bodies outside on the streets than with the empty, mindless idiots he found himself locked up with now.

  They could stay there and rot with the rest of them or they could go. The choice was clear to him.

  That morning Rachel stayed behind to pack supplies while Steve and Peter walked into town to get everything they would need for their journey to find a new, safer home.

  Once they were outside the stupidity and short-sightedness of the people hiding in the Community Center became more apparent to Peter. There's a gold mine outside the Community Center. Anything they wanted they could have for the taking. It was like shopping with a no-limit credit card. The zombie-like clerks and storekeeper’s weren't as irritating as when they had been alive. It was strange standing in the stores and looking out onto the silent streets with staggering corpses drifting aimlessly about in the streets. To Peter there wasn't much difference between the dead creatures shuffling around now and the aimless consumers that had walked the same streets a week earlier.

  At a gas station they found a newer Ford Expedition with a full tank of gas right in front of the pumps. The keys were still in the ignition. It appeared the owner had just finished filling up the huge SUV when everything fell apart. There was no sign of the owner. They must have died during the outbreak, and then later reanimated and shambled away. The Ford had enough room to seat seven adults and provisions. They didn't have a lot of stuff to take with them but it made sense to get the biggest vehicle they could find. If they needed to they could even use it as a temporary shelter. They considered getting something smaller but decided against it. There didn't seem to be much point roughing it when they could have a bit of comfort for no extra effort or risk.

  They collected non-perishable food items, bottled water and clothes. While driving in the SUV, they discussed going to their respective homes to get their own things. At first Peter wasn't bothered about going back, but Steve was certain he didn't want to back to his house. He'd already told them a little about his mother and sister and didn't think his father and other sister were ever coming home again.

  Peter understood why Steve didn't want to go anywhere near his place. The more Peter thought about it the less he wanted to go back to his empty house. The memories and emotions stored there were enough. He couldn't cope with seeing his friends and neighbors as walking corpses. Apart from good memories, all that was left at his home were his possessions. But Peter knew he could take anything he wanted or needed from the shelves of any of the deserted stores wherever they went.

  Peter was losing track of time. They had been up and out since nine o'clock and it now felt like it was getting late, but he couldn't be sure. As the days stretched out, they started to lose the structure and familiarity of time. No one slept much. People woke up whenever they woke up and kept themselves occupied as much as possible until they couldn't keep their eyes open any longer. There were no set mealtimes or bedtimes. There was just time. Each hour dragged by and felt longer than the last.

  Just before eleven, Steve and Peter drove their new dark blue SUV loaded with supplies back along the silent streets to the Community Center.

  Chapter 22

  Rachel packed the supplies she had gathered into two carrier bags and a cardboard box. Nobody helped her carry them outside. She set the supplies down near the spot where the corpse woman had lain at the bottom of the stairs. Earlier, before leaving, Peter and Steve carried the body of the corpse woman around the rear of the building. They placed her in the tall grass at the back of the property.

  The other people in the Community Center hardly spoke to her the whole time Peter and Steve were in town. It was almost as if she had ceased to exist. The other survivors felt they were being abandoned, and Rachel had a hard time understanding why they felt that way.

  The invitation still stood for any of them to leave with Peter, Steve and her. She guessed the only thing stopping them was uncertainty and their personal and irrational fears of stepping outside the old wooden building.

  Several times she looked up to make eye contact with other people, only for them to look away when their eyes met. She heard people whispering behind her back. She knew they were talking about her because nothing was private anymore. The tall ceilings of the Community Center amplified every spiteful word. She stood outside to wait and breathed a sigh of relief when Steve and Peter returned.

  “Everything all right?” she asked as Peter parked the SUV in front of the building, got out and stretched.

  “Fine,” he replied, flashing her a reassuring smile. “You okay?”

  She nodded.

  Steve walked around from the passenger side of the Ford. “I think we got everything we need,” he said. “What do you think of the truck?”

  She nodded again, “It’s big. Typical man vehicle,” she said with a sly grin walking around the large SUV. There was seating for seven. There were two seats in the front, two in the back and three in the middle. The front two seats and the seat behind the driver were empty, and the others seats held piles of supplies.

  As she looked through the tinted glass windows, it occurred to her they were all standing outside exposed. For the first time since the outbreak began, none of them seemed to care about what happened to the changed world around them. Outside there were hundreds of walking corpses, but today she wasn't the least bit bothered. Perhaps it was because they were about to leave and deciding she no longer needed the protection of the Community Center.

  “Did you have any trouble while you were out there?” she asked, coming out of her daydream.

  “Trouble?” Steve replied, surprised. “What kind of trouble?”

  She shrugged her shoulders.

  “I don't know. You spent the morning in the middle of a town full of walking corpses. I don't know what you saw.”

  “Nothing happened,” Peter said. “There were plenty of corpses walking around, but nothing happened.”

  “There weren’t as many corpses walking around as I expected though,” Steve added.

  “That's because they're spreading out,” Peter grunted as he shoved the carrier bags and box into the back of the truck.

  “Spreading out?” said Rachel.

  Peter stopped and turned to face her.

  “When this all started the bodies were concentrated in the middle of the town, right? People were at work or school, or getting breakfast and such, right?”

  “Yes...” she repl
ied, unsure where the conversation was leading.

  “So the corpses that reanimated are walking randomly. It stands to reason that they're spreading out from the center of the town, and dispersing evenly throughout the town.”

  “I see...” she murmured, far from convinced.

  “That doesn’t make any sense,” Steve said. “If they’re walking around randomly then how can they disperse evenly? It doesn’t fit.”

  “So what do you think’s happening?” Peter asked with his hands on his hips and his tone edged with annoyance at being challenged.

  “I don’t know for sure. Maybe it’s not so random. Maybe there’s a residual memory left and they’re going to their homes, or jobs, to school or even to a store.”

  “That makes more sense.” Rachel said nodding.

  “I guess any theory is feasible given the circumstances.” Peter said, returning his attention to rearranging the bags and boxes in the truck. Rachel continued to think, trying hard to follow through the route of his logic.

  “So,” she continued, “if what you're saying about them dispersing evenly is right, given time there could be equal numbers of bodies all over the country?”

  Peter thought for a moment.

  “I guess that can happen. Why?”

  “Because if that's the case,” she said lowering her voice, “why the hell are we bothering to run?”

  “We're not running,” he snapped, avoiding her very valid point. “We're backed into a corner here. What we're doing is giving ourselves a chance.”

  She sensed what he was saying was true, but the conversation was on the threshold of a topic so unpleasant, none of them wanted to voice what their gut was telling them. Peter slammed and locked the SUV back door and headed back inside Community Center.

  The silence greeting him in the main hall was ominous and uncomfortable. He hadn’t felt this way since arriving days earlier. The rest of the survivors, all twenty or so frightened individuals, just stopped whatever they had been doing and stared at him, Steve and Rachel.

  Peter felt it was the three of them against the rest. There was real animosity and anger in the room as well as a sense of betrayal. The wave of hostility stopped Peter in his tracks. He turned around to face Rachel and Steve. The three of them found themselves exposed as they stood together in the center of the room.

  “What's this about?” he asked, keeping his voice low.

  “It's been like this since you left,” Rachel replied. “The rest of them seem to have a real problem with what we're doing.”

  “Fucking idiots,” Steve snapped. “It's because they know we're right. We should tell them that...”

  “We'll tell them nothing,” Peter directed. The surprising authority in his voice silenced Steve.

  “Let's just go.”

  “Now?” Rachel said, surprised. “Are we ready? Do we need to...”

  Peter glanced at her. His expression left her no doubt of his intentions.

  “What are we going to gain from waiting around?” he said matter of fact. “We're better off travelling in daylight so let's make the most of it. Let's get out of here.”

  “Are you sure...?” Steve began.

  “You having doubts?” Peter snapped. “You can stay here if you prefer.”

  Steve shook his head and looked away.

  “Fuck it,” Rachel said, her voice now louder not caring who hears. “You're right. Let's just get the fuck out of here.”

  Peter turned back to face the rest of the survivors who still stared at them. He cleared his throat. He didn't know what to say or why he was even bothering, but it didn't seem right to walk out without trying to persuade them to go with them, at least one last time.

  “We're leaving,” he began, his words echoing around the cold room. “If any of you want to...”

  “Fuck off,” Eddie Cook spat, getting up from his chair, holding onto his injured hand and walked up to Peter. The two men stood face to face. “Just get in your damn car and go,” he uttered. “You're putting us at risk. Every second you spend here is a second too long.”

  Peter looked into Eddie’s tired face for what seemed like an eternity. He again wanted to tell Eddie and the others why they should go with them, and why they shouldn't stay locked away in the Community Center. But seeing the anger bordering on hatred in the other man's eyes left no doubt that saying anything further was pointless.

  “Come on,” Rachel said, grabbing his arm and pulling him away.

  Peter looked around the room one last time and stared back at each of the desperate faces staring back at him. Then he turned his back to them and walked away.

  Steve led the way out, followed by Rachel and Peter. As soon as they stepped out into the cold afternoon air, the Community Center door slammed shut and locked behind them. There was no turning back. The three of them exchanged anxious glances and climbed into the SUV. Peter started the engine and drove out towards the main road and stopped to let the willowy-framed body of a man, stagger oblivious past the front of the Ford.

  Chapter 23

  The Third Mutation

  It was an hour since Peter, Rachel, and Steve left the community center. Eddie stood against the wood paneled wall in the main hall, holding his bandaged hand and his head was hanging down. He was nauseous and dizzy, with a pounding headache and was sweating profusely. One of the survivors, a slender older woman named Teresa, came up to him.

  It was an hour since Peter, Rachel and Steve left the community center. Eddie stood against the wood paneled wall in the main hall, holding his bandaged hand with his head down. He was nauseous and dizzy, with a pounding headache and was sweating profusely. One of the other survivors, a slender older woman named Teresa, came up to him.

  “Eddie, are you okay? You look terrible. What’s going on?”

  “I don't know,” he said, “I just feel, really lousy. I think it’s from the bite or even getting too close to that thing.”

  “Here sit down.” Teresa said.

  “Actually, I think I need to lie down. I really don’t feel good at all.” Eddie said as he coughed, with snot running out of his nose.

  Another 30-something woman with long dark hair, named Liz came over with a sleeping bag and unfurled it on the floor next to Eddie. Jim Burke stood behind her.

  “Is everything okay Eddie? What’s going on?” Jim asked.

  “I feel horrible. It seems like it’s getting worse by the minute. What’s happening to me? Can you see if anyone here has any medical training?” Eddie said as he sat down wincing in pain and lay back on the sleeping bag with a groan.

  Alarmed by Eddie’s appearance, Jim turned around to face the community center calling out.

  “Is there a doctor here? Anyone with any medical training at all?”

  Heads in the room swiveling back and forth looking at one another. Someone said, “Looks like the only person who had any medical training was the nurse that just drove away with Peter and the skinny guy.”

  Liz went to the back room and returned with a cool damp cloth and sat on the floor next to Eddie’s head and dabbed his forehead with the cloth. She could feel heat radiating off him like the wood stove she had in her living room at home.

  Eddie either fell asleep or lost consciousness. He began tossing and turning in his unconscious state, then his condition gave way to an all-out seizure. His back stiffened and arched, breathing rapidly as if he were running a race. His whole body began to spasm and jerk wildly.

  Liz scooted away, but everybody in the community center gathered around and stared mesmerized by what was happening. Suddenly Eddie’s entire body and limbs stiffened as if he were being electrocuted and then collapsed going limp and still. He exhaled one long breath and breathed no more.

  Liz came back and reached over placing two fingers on Eddie’s carotid artery and was surprised to feel the skin already cooling. There was no pulse. She looked over at the gathered crowd and shook her head slowly side to side. There were worried gasps and sobs from the
onlookers.

  “Oh my God,” Jason said, “I can't believe it. Those fucking idiots brought that, that thing in here and now one of our own is dead, and they went on their fucking merry way.”

  Mike Fordham came over with a small towel and covered Eddie’s face.

  Two hours later, Eddie's body still lay covered in the corner where he died. The rest of the survivors were contemplating whether they should stay in the community center and if they stayed, what were they going to do with Eddie's body?

  A few of the survivors thought his body should be taken outside and put in the tall grass at the back of the property. The problem with that is nobody wanted to open the doors, let alone go into the yard. At the same time they knew they couldn’t keep him in the building, because he would start to smell before long, not to mention his illness may be contagious. In the end they didn't have to worry because Eddie himself provided an answer of what to do.

  No one was looking directly at Eddie's body, so nobody saw his hand move and twitch. His whole body shuddered then Eddie sat up. The towel fell away from his face. He turned his head, fixing his glazed eyes on the people in the room.

  He started to stand, uttering a pained guttural moan as he did. Jason came running over, “Eddie? Are you okay? We thought you were dead.” Jason said grasping Eddie’s shoulders and looking into his face. People crowded around the two men.

  Even before it was a fully formed thought, Jason intuitively knew something was wrong. Still holding Eddie’s shoulders he had a moment to register that Eddie's body felt stone cold. Eddie let out another ungodly moan, then grabbed Jason's head in both of his cold dead hands and bit down hard on Jason’s cheek.

  Jason screamed in pain and terror and tried to pry Eddie’s reanimated corpse off of him. Mike and Jim grabbed Eddie and pulled him away from Jason. As they did a large part of Jason’s cheek tore from his face, leaving his teeth, jaw and tendons exposed. The ragged bloody meat of his cheek hung from Eddie’s chewing mouth.