by Zuko, Joseph
“...reports stream in from all over the Northwest. There is a deadly infection spreading across the Portland and Vancouver metro area. People that were reported dead are coming back to life. I am having a hard time believing this myself folks, but I have seen the footage. All of the reports we have tell us that once a person’s heart has stopped, within minutes they will come back...and every report we have received is very clear on this. After they come back they feed on human flesh. You heard me correctly, they feed on human flesh. I warn you the footage you are about to see is very graphic.”
The news cuts to footage of a cameraman under attack. He uses the camera as a weapon and smashes the lens into the face of an infected man. The five of us flinch with every impact. Our stomachs turn as we watch this horrifying scene. Most of the skin is gone from its face and an eyeball hangs from its socket. The monster is relentless, it scratches and claws, teeth bared and snapping. It looks just like Linda downstairs. The camera’s microphone distorts and peaks from the screams. The camera falls to the ground. It lands on its side. The young cameraman lies on his back fighting the infected human. The monster overpowers him and tears into his flesh. It bites down on his face, then his neck, and his forearm. Whatever gets close to its mouth is bit and torn from the young man’s body. He succumbs to the attack and goes limp.
“This is disgusting! How can they show this on TV?” Tracy cries and tears trickle down her cheeks. My hands shake as adrenaline pumps through my body. My armpits sweat and I think I am going to puke. I look over to Sam and his face is white. Bill pukes. Even the super horror movie fan, Devon, can’t look at the TV anymore.
The monster takes a few more bites then stops, lets go of its victim, stands up and walks out of camera frame. The cameraman’s body pumps blood onto the ground. Within a minute the cameraman’s body moves again. It sits up, gets to its feet and shuffles off. The footage stops and cuts back to the news anchor.
“Early reports are indicating that the hospitals were hit first and have been overrun. The police are outmanned and the infection is spreading fast. As you saw in the footage, once you have been bitten, or if you die, you will come back as one of them. The authorities request that you stay in your hom...” From the TV we hear a loud explosion and then the TV goes to static.
“What do we do?” Sam whispers.
I turn away from the TV and head back out the window onto the roof. I look down at the streets and it is carnage. Blood covers the windows inside the school and one by one newly infected shuffle out of the building. The gifted already had a hard time getting around when they were alive. Now it will take them forever to get anywhere. The ones that had spent their lives in a wheelchair are crawling out onto the sidewalk. It is a very messed up thing to see a dead disabled kid, covered with blood and guts, pull itself around on the ground.
It is a busy intersection and cars are flying up and down it. One of the infected steps out into oncoming traffic. A minivan slams on its brakes but it is too late. The infected body destroys the hood and is upended, shattering the windshield. The driver pulls into the next lane and hits a truck head on. The sound of crushing metal, glass and bones breaking is worse than anything you hear in the movies. The vehicles twist and spin around each other. Both cars come to a screeching halt. The driver is laid out on the horn. Gore covers both cars. Everything that makes us human splayed out on the hoods.
Seconds later, cars coming from both directions crash into the wreck. The infected swarm the cars and smash in the windows. I can hear women and children crying from their cars. People try to help, but they are overtaken and torn to pieces.
A topless woman from the adult store runs screaming into the street. She has been bit on her legs and back. A group of half-naked women follow her. The fire from the Jiffy Lube has spread to the trees that separate it from a million dollar home. A man stands in his front yard with a garden hose and tries to put out the fire. Everyone joins me at the edge of the roof.
“Look,” I point to the man.
“He has no idea what’s happening,” Sam states the obvious.
We watch as the topless woman runs right for him. He drops his hose and she runs into his arms. It is like he can only see her boobs and not the infected chasing after her. We can’t hear what he is saying to her, but it looks like he is telling her to calm down. The other girls are in his yard now. He holds up his hand and tells them to stop. The topless girl lets go of him and runs for his front door. The group is on him and tears him to the ground.
The people that were bitten in their cars have changed and now join the other infected out in the street. It is a small horde already and it has only been ten minutes since the helicopter hit the Jiffy Lube.
We hear sirens from a police car, it pulls onto the street and stops next to the man getting torn apart on his front yard. Two cops get out of the car and draw their weapons. They scream for the infected to stop and put their hands into the air. They leave the dead man on the grass and run right at the two officers. They open fire and empty both of their clips in seconds. Two of the girls are hit and sent to the ground. The officers are aiming for the chest, like they are trained to do, but it does not stop the infected. The man on the driver’s side is attacked. The second officer changes his clip as he runs around the front of the car to help his partner. The officer under attack throws punches and kicks, trying to keep the women off him, but they keep coming. The two women on the ground get up. This time he puts a few rounds into their heads and they fall to the ground. Dead. Really dead.
The man lying on the grass has turned and he gets to his feet and runs for the officers. Again the cop fires at the head and the newly turned body fall to the street. The other officer has been bitten a few times now, but finally gets off a few rounds and shoots the last of the ladies in the head. He is hurt bad and his partner helps him to his feet. They climb back into their squad car and hit the gas. The car backs down the street leaving a trail of smoke behind them.
A red Volvo skids to a stop and runs over three infected. It high centers on the corpses, its tires spinning in the air. The driver gets out and runs to the back door, she gets her two-year-old from its car seat. She takes the baby and sprints away from us. She turns a corner. We can’t see her anymore but we can hear her screams. My hand covers my mouth, the mental picture making me gag. All around us we hear screams. Breaking glass. More screams.
A big truck scoots quickly down the street. Thick metal rails hold its cargo into place. Its cargo, thirty plus aluminum tanks, rattle around in its open truck bed. On the side of the vehicle is a sign that reads “flammable.” As it enters the intersection it is t-boned by another fast moving vehicle. The big truck is set off course and heads straight for the burning Jiffy Lube. The truck explodes seconds after it enters the flaming structure. The heat from this explosion almost melts my eyebrows. I duck down below the edge of the building.
“We have to get out of here!” I can’t watch any more carnage below. The group ducks down with me.
“How do we get down? There’s no fire escape,” Sam sounds defeated already. One of the tanks from the back of the big truck explodes and shoots high into the air. The damn thing lands dead center of the roof we are standing on. We all drop to the ground and cower for our lives. It begins to burn the roof right away.
“Oh good. That’s what we needed,” I say sarcastically. I pop up and run across the roof and look at the back of the building. Our company sits next to an animal hospital and we also share the same parking lot. I look down and there is a van parked right next to our building. Its roof sits around twenty feet below us. Sam is right behind me.
“We jump.”
“It’s too far! We’ll break our legs,” Sam shakes his head. He is right. We will not make the jump. My car is parked only a hundred feet away, on the street behind the building. Right now I do not see any of those things back here. Yet.
I look back at the tank that is setting the whole roof on fire. “It’s better than burning t
o death. Don’t worry. I have an idea!” I climb back into the warehouse, Sam is right behind me. The rest of the group follows behind him.
“Guys we have to jump,” I say with conviction.
“We can’t jump from here!” squawks Bill.
“We don’t have a lot of options and we have to move fast. There aren’t any of them at the back of the building right now. Help me with this?” I walk over to a large stack of twin-sized mattresses; grab one off the stack and head back for the open window. Devon and Sam grab one each and follow me onto the roof. Bill and Tracy grab one together. I guess they are going to go along with this. God, I hope it works. I stand at the edge of the building. Boom! Boom! Boom! Tanks explode one after another. Each one lands in a different spot. It only adds to the chaos. More buildings are burning down. The cars closest to the Jiffy Lube are all set ablaze. Another tank explodes and lands on our roof. It is only ten feet from where we are standing. We drop to the ground and duck behind our mattresses for cover. The heat coming off it is intense. It is so hot that the plastic bag that incases the mattress has begun to melt and shrink.
“Goddamn that was close!” I fight to get back up, “Sam, grab the end of this.”
Sam lets go of his mattress and picks up the end of mine. Almost half of the roof is on fire. We lift the mattress over the edge and aim for the top of the van in the parking lot.
“Ready?” I ask. Sam nods. “Drop it.” We both let go and the mattress hits the top of the van perfectly. A sigh of relief...then the vans alarm goes off.
“SHIT! Lets move!” We drop the other three mattresses on top of the van as fast as we can. The fire creeps closer and closer to us. One tank after another blows apart and sends its aluminum torpedo flying into the air. “I’ll go first,” I throw my leg over the side of the building. I hate heights! I really, really hate heights. I am not a fan of climbing up a six-foot ladder. That is how much I hate heights. I pivot on my butt and bring my other leg over the side. I take a deep breath. I want to close my eyes but I know that is a really bad idea. I push off and try to land on my back. I fall ten feet and land hard on the stack of mattresses. I cave the top of the van in when I land. I do a quick body check and nothing has broken.
“You okay?!” Sam yells down to me.
“I’m fine,” I sit up and climb down onto the hood and drop to the pavement. They send Tracy over next and she lands it perfectly. She climbs off and joins me in the parking lot.
“Hurry up!” I yell up at them. Sam goes next, then Devon. The van’s alarm blasts.
“Linda?” Sam pulls at my shoulder. I turn and see her stumble out of the backdoor of our building. That demon woman has spotted us and runs as fast as she can with a busted knee. Not too far behind her is a group of infected kids from the school. They are on the other side of the parking lot and moving fast in this direction.
“Bill, jump!” He sits on the edge of the building and shakes his head.
“Stop thinking and jump!” shouts Sam.
“I can’t!!”
“They’re coming! We have to move!” I yell up at him. I have my keys in my hands ready to go. More of them creep around the side of the building. They file into our parking lot.
“FUCK IT!” Bill lets go of the building. His body twists in the air. He jumped too far. He is not going to land right. Goddamn it. Bill slams down on the edge of the mattresses, falls off immediately and lands hard. He puts his hands out to break his fall and both wrists snap in the wrong direction. He lands face first on the asphalt. I roll him over to his back. His nose is broken, his lips are cut and two front teeth are knocked out. He is out cold.
“Sam, grab him.” We grab Bill by his arms and drag him towards the street. His hands flop around as we pull him by his forearms. The bones grind on each other inside his wrist. Linda leads the pack of infected over the fence that separates the two parking lots. Bill’s body is too heavy and they gain on us with every step. I click the unlock button on my key fob, Devon and Tracy climb into the back seat. We get Bill to the street, but the infected are right behind us. There is no time to pick up his body and force it into the back of my car. They are too close. This shit can’t be happening. I lock eyes with Sam. He is thinking it too. I close my eyes in despair and let go of Bill. Sam lets go as well and within seconds Linda is on him. She’s quickly joined by the other infected. When her first bite cuts into his skin it wakes him up. Bill howls like an animal. His body turns over and he looks up at me. His eyes are like an abandoned child. Hurting, disbelieving, how could I possibly leave him for dead? I pop open the door to my car as Sam runs around to the passenger’s side. Bill reaches out for me to save him. His hand flops around on the broken joint.
“DON’T LEAVE!!”
“WE HAVE TO HELP HIM!” Devon wails from the back seat.
“WE CAN’T!” I turn back and look at Bill. “I’M SORRY!” my throat tightens. Tears well up in my eyes. I slam my door shut, force the key into the ignition and start the car. I could not save him. Bill fights but it is too late. They pile on top of him and peel the meat from his big belly.
“PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE!!! HELP ME!!!”
I put the car into gear and hit the gas. The tires screech as I make a U-turn. We circle around Bill. The terror and fear in his eyes I know will haunt me for the rest of my life. Hot tears make it hard to see. I am wracked with guilt. Bill was not just my manager, he was a friend. I loved the man and I left him to die.
“What are we going to do?” Sam whispers.
“I have to get home,” I can barely get the words out over the large gulps of air I am taking in. I am not a religious man but I am praying for my family. Over and over I repeat in my head. “Please let them be safe. Please let them be safe.” I turn onto the road and head for home.
Chapter 4
I hammer through the gears in my car, a mid two thousands Mitsubishi Lancer. I try my best to get my emotions under control. My hands shake uncontrollably. I grip the wheel tighter to get them steady. My eyes sting. I look in the rearview mirror; they’re bloodshot and wild. My breathing is erratic. I have what my wife calls the snubs. That is when a child is so upset, that they cry so hard they take in large breaths and then short breathes. I have the snubs bad.
I have never seen a human die before. Never witnessed anything like this. I am in full-blown shock. I am covered in sweat. My skin feels cold and sticky. I rub my eyes. Looking at my passengers, I don’t have to ask; I know they feel the same. We will mourn Bill later, now I have to focus on the road.
I am only blocks away from my store and I have already seen cars blow through stop signs, crash into each other, run over and destroy pedestrians on the sidewalk. One car launched itself through an intersection, lost control and blasted its way through someone’s garage door. We are passing over a major highway, Portland calls it Highway 84. It looks like a concrete corridor cut into the earth. It runs from one side of Portland to the other. It’s the main road to travel East or West. It has eight-foot brick walls that line the highway. If you are down in it, you are stuck. Only the on and off-ramps can let you out. I take a quick glance down at the gridlock nightmare. Cars have forced themselves into the small median, pinned between the concrete divider and the cars in the fast lane. Vehicles are on fire. The lights of a police squad car and a fire truck flash in the distance. Gunshots ring out down there in the trench. The report on TV sounded like the areas around the hospitals will be heavy with the infected. Right now those officers are only a hundred yards away from Providence.
I am almost to an intersection when a logging truck blows the red light. I jam on my brakes, the tires skid and the car slides to a stop just in time. My front bumper is clipped and torn off. I hear tires screech behind us. I sink down in my seat. My eyes catch a glimpse of something big in my rear view mirror. It is a big Dodge truck barreling right for us. I brace for impact.
SMASH! It destroys my trunk and folds the bumper into nothing. Sam’s head hits the passenger window and it spiderweb
s. Luckily, the logging truck has passed us because we are forced into the intersection. I do not want to get out and check the damage. My neck is killing me, but I grab the stick and force it into first and hit the gas.
I pull away from the Dodge. Steam rises out of the grill of the big truck. My back bumper drags on the ground and after a few feet it tears off and falls to the asphalt. Several seconds later the airbags blow. What the hell? That was a little late! It scares the shit out of me and I let out a scream. It sounded like a gun went off and the hard rough fabric scratches the hell out of my forearms. The passenger airbag hits Sam in the face. It knocks his glasses off and gives him a bloody nose. I have swerved into oncoming traffic so I jerk the wheel back into my lane. We start to slide. I tap the brakes and try to correct our course. An oncoming car clips into my rear quarter panel. It helps straighten us out at least.
I make a hard right. I am trying to get back onto Sandy Boulevard, because it is a straight shot all the way to the Oregon/Washington border. Sam picks his glasses up off the floor and sees that they are broken, snapped right in half.
“Oh no,” he grumbles. I know it is a big deal. He is almost blind. Sam needs these glasses. I remember I have duct tape in my glove box. I reach over his lap and pop the door open. I grab the tape and toss it to him.
“Here, can you fix them?”
“I’ll need another set of hands,” he says.
“Pass them back here, we’ll do it,” Tracy speaks up from the back. Sam passes the glasses back with the tape. I am coming up to the Sandy intersection. There are shops on both sides of the street and people are looting. Why would they risk going out to steal a pack of socks, toilet paper or a six-pack of beer if it meant you could die? Humans act so weird when the shit hits the fan.
