Surviving The Zombie Apocalypse (Book 1): Sanctuary
Page 4
“That doesn’t seem right.”
Her instincts were good, even if Briana didn’t know why she was so hesitant to proceed.
“They’re fortifying it. The people inside plan on staying there.” I pointed. “Look at the parking lot. They’ve moved cars away from the building and slashed the tires so they sit lower, making it hard for anything to crawl underneath. It’s not the best wall, but it might buy time. The zombies are more likely to approach the open areas instead, giving them fewer spots to defend.”
“They blocked up the windows with something too,” she added.
I couldn’t tell from my vantage what they had used, but other than the front doors, it had been secured.
“Snipers on the roof.”
She looked up. “They’re watching us.”
“Makes sense, but they aren’t pointing their guns. I think they’d let us come in if we wanted, maybe, to have more people for defense. I’m pretty sure they wouldn’t give us any supplies though, not if they intend on staying. I think it’d be best if we just left. I really don’t want to get stuck here.”
She had no objections, perhaps agreeing or maybe just trusting in my judgment, and we got back in the Jeep, heading north.
“Think it’ll be that bad Jacob? Looks dangerous, being next to the city, but it did seem secure.”
“Probably is. Might stay that way too. Hell, the people there could even wall up the doors and go in and out through the roof, using ladders or ropes. The zombies would never get inside if they did that. Problem I see is that the food will run out sooner or later. That’ll be what gets them.”
“How long before those things notice they’re there?”
“Some have. Had to.”
“I didn’t see any bodies,” she pointed out, “or any zombies trying to get inside.”
“Well, yeah, but they probably shot them and then dumped the bodies someplace. Even if they’ve been super lucky, more are going to show up, lots and lots of them. They’ll get surrounded, and when they do run out of food, they won’t be able to go scavenging for more. There’ll be no escaping that place.”
From the corner of my eye I noticed her go pale.
“Although.” I paused, thinking. “If they can hold out until the zombies rot away, then they have a real good chance. It might work, but it seems really iffy to me.”
“Jacob, I’m not sure they’re doing that.”
“What?” I slowed down and glanced over at Briana.
“Well, they don’t seem to be rotting. I mean, look at them.”
I pulled up beside a zombie, a woman wearing shorts and nothing else. The thing lurched at the Jeep, but I only let it get close enough for a good look before driving off again. This one had apparently died in the initial change. There were no bite marks, no injuries. Her skin was pallid, with stains underneath that might have been pooled blood, but there was nothing past that. It was as if decomposition began but abruptly halted a short time later, a day maybe? I didn’t have the background to know.
“They should be nastier,” I agreed, “especially with this heat. I can’t believe I didn’t notice. God...” I began to mumble under my breath.
“It didn’t occur to me either, not until you mentioned them rotting away...” I hit a pothole, and she put the rabbit pillow around her neck again. “...so no feeling bad. Any idea how long they’ll last?”
“Can’t say. If they don’t decay at all, past that little bit, they might be around forever. If it just slowed down a whole bunch, years I guess. Their clothes are going to rot off though. I’m sure of that.”
Briana gave me the slightest of smiles. “A world full of naked monsters. How fun.”
That was the first revelation of the day. The second came a few hours later, after we had passed Denton again and were heading west toward Decatur. We spotted some dogs on the highway. The zombies saw them as well, but they didn’t react in any noticeable way. There were no attempts to grab and bite them, nor did they avoid the animals. They just wandered about endlessly.
The dogs, however, did move aside and always maintained distance between themselves and the zombies. They didn’t growl or bark, nor did they appear to be afraid. It was as if they understood the walking dead were simply wrong. It was fascinating, and we spent some time wondering if this applied to all animals, especially insects. While disgusting, the prospect of flies laying their eggs on the zombies so maggots could eat them from the inside out was enticing. It turned out to be wrong of course. All living creatures avoid the damn things.
* * *
My plan to keep the Jeep fueled, which I probably should have mentioned earlier, proved satisfactory. Basically, I have a plastic gas container, holding two gallons, along with a bucket, a funnel, and a long plastic tube that was left over from when I used to have an aquarium. Using this to siphon the gas, the intent was to never have less than a half tank and to always fill up before stopping for the night.
The downside was that it tended to take time, leaving a person exposed. For that reason our first stop was next to a lone SUV resting on the shoulder of the road. We had a clear view in all directions. There were a few zombies in the distance, but they were too far off to be an immediate threat.
It was an hour after refueling that I spotted another traveler.
“There! Briana.”
She looked up from the road atlas. “What? Hey, another car. Slow down in case they want to talk.”
I reflexively touched the .40 caliber automatic at my hip and the .45 that was sitting in the slot on the driver’s door – best to be careful – and dropped the speed after flashing my lights a few times. The other car never slowed, and as it passed the driver hit the accelerator, to a reckless degree considering the roads were anything but clear, and zipped on by.
“So much for finding out anything new,” remarked Briana.
“I’d say I’m surprised, but, ah, not really.”
“Wonder where they were heading.”
“Looking for family, loved ones maybe?”
I immediately regretted my words. Briana turned away and began to fiddle with her hair. We were an interesting pair. I had no family, and she had apparently lost hers. Bad on both counts, but at least she knew what happened to them. There was no lingering doubt, and there would be no need to risk ourselves searching.
* * *
The remainder of the day was fairly dull. We drove up the highway, slowly, and filled the tank a second time. We ate the sandwiches, drank some water, mostly from reusable containers I’d brought from the house – we were saving the limited supply of bottled water for when we really needed it. Then we stopped around 7:00 PM to fill the tank for the third and final time. It would be getting dark in about an hour and we needed to get settled.
Finding a grouping of three vehicles, all wrecked, I got out and retrieved the bucket and plastic tube. Briana followed a moment later and started looking around for any approaching zombies. There weren’t any in sight, but a single body was lying on the ground. The man had been young, early twenties at most, and a bit scruffy looking. His head was caved in, and the eyes lacked the strange gray mucus that afflicted the shamblers. He’d been breathing when he was murdered.
Nothing could be done, so we set about our business. One car was empty already. Maybe it ran out of gas and was hit by the others? Hard to tell. The other two had more than enough to top the Jeep off and fill the two gallon container.
“Field plan or vacant house plan?”
“I don’t see any isolated places.”
“Field then.” I noticed she’d picked something up. “What you find?”
“A video recorder, little digital one. It was next the body back there but not touching it.” Briana made a face. The fellow had been lying in the sun for several days. “Looked like he dropped it.”
“Huh. Does it work?”
“Think so. I’ll check later.”
The field plan was pretty straight forward. I left the highway, cutting a
cross an empty field until I was well away from the road. There I parked. Sleeping sitting upright was going to be uncomfortable, but at least the Jeep had air conditioning. I couldn’t leave it running all night obviously, but if it grew too hot, I could easily cool things down again.
We saw a few zombies before it got dark, but they remained on the highway. None seemed to notice us, nor did any leave the easy path the road presented. Camping this way certainly appeared feasible, possibly even safer than trying to find and secure a building.
Interlude – Nathan’s Story
This is the first of the interludes I’ll be including in my narration. As with those you’ll see later – this assumes you keep reading instead of, in the alternative, using my work as kindling – it is the story of someone I encountered during my journeys. Quite often it was through the exchange of information that I learned how to better survive in our new, excitingly dreadful world. Additionally, many of these tales are fascinating in their own right. They should be told, and the individuals behind them remembered.
Briana and I met Nathan when we discovered his body lying on the asphalt. Morbid, I know. Our knowledge of his life is very limited, consisting of what we gleaned by reviewing the video recorder. It was a cheap model, lacking any bells or whistles, but it does have a rather long run time. Most relevant, it was turned on when this all began. Nathan was awake during the initial change, and his experiences are the only ones I have an actual recording of.
The camera has a tiny view screen, smaller than the one on my iPod, and the sound quality is simply horrendous. Still, it was more than sufficient for Briana and I to watch and understand what transpired. I should also point out that I’m not providing an actual transcript of what was said. The conversations are drawn out and full of time consuming irrelevance. I will also be paraphrasing heavily. Yes, I know that seems terribly wrong, but again, the statements are often long, winding, and somewhat confusing. Nathan’s grammar is dreadful as well, in a way that would have a high school English teacher spinning in her grave, or on the highway if she was now a zombie.
Here’s a quick background summary which will set the stage for what happened. Nathan and his girlfriend Claire – we surmised they were dating based on their general behavior toward one another, although there’s no way to know for certain – were in the car, making a road trip, when the zombie uprising began. Claire was sitting in the passenger seat playing with the video recorder.
“Look at the camera Nathan. Nathan. Nathan, I’m paging you. Pay more attention to me.”
“I’m driving.” He turned his head to give her a quick smile.
“Better. Now, keep looking at me.”
“I can’t do that Claire.” He stifled a yawn. “I need to keep us from crashing. Why are you filming this anyways?”
“Trying to stay awake mostly. I’ll delete it later. How much longer?”
Nathan shrugged. “Not sure. It’ll be morning before we get there, eight o’clock maybe.”
“God,” she moaned, shifting the camera and taking him out of the frame. “So damn long.”
“You can go to sleep. I don’t mind.”
“Yeah, right.” Claire sounded tired, even as she argued against getting some rest. “Without me keeping you awake, you’ll end up dozing off, and then we really would crash.” The camera again showed his face. “How about some jokes, something only a little dirty that won’t embarrass you too much when I show this to your mom.”
“How about I tell her of the time…” He paused as the camera began to shake. “Claire? You okay?”
“I…”
The camera tumbled from her hands and hit the floor by the passenger seat. It continued to run, the sound clearly recorded. The screen, however, was black, save for the clock in the bottom right corner. It read 3:15 AM.
“Claire! What’s wrong!” Nathan’s voice sounded frantic.
She cried out, clearly hurting, and the tires suddenly squealed. The video camera rolled about, briefly catching some illumination as the interior lights came on. Then it flipped back down against the floor mat.
“Claire, talk to me. Talk to me!”
The next few minutes were filled with pleading, sobbing, and a great deal of mumbling. Then the clock reached 3:22 AM.
“Claire! Oh, baby, thank God. I thought…” He paused. “Are you all right? You were shaking so bad. I thought you’d… What is it?”
His scream, a shriek of agony, echoed throughout the interior of the automobile.
“Claire! No!” Nathan howled in pain and thrashed about. “No!”
There was the sound of a car door slamming. Nathan was outside and could no longer be heard. Within, all was still for just over twenty one minutes, the period in which Claire was sated following her gory meal. Then the hunger returned, no weaker than before, and the reanimated corpse began to move about, trying to get free. It didn’t take long before there was a beep signaling the passenger door had opened. Her foot even struck the camera, shifting it, though not enough to offer any additional perspective. The sound of struggling continued until the click of the seat belt coming undone was heard. Five minutes, that was what it took for the zombie to figure out how to open the car door and unfasten her safety belt.
“Stay back! I mean it Claire.” The demands were muffled by distance and difficult to hear.
There was rustling as Nathan reentered the car, slamming the door behind him. Hands could be heard hitting the glass and the faint scrape of fingernails clawing at the window. Then the engine started, and the car roared off. For several minutes the only sound was the thrum of the motor and the sobs of the driver, interrupted by the occasional gasp of pain.
“What the?”
The engine revved as he sped up. A moment later the radio was switched on. An emergency news cast was playing.
“…indoors. Do not go outside. Stay inside and lock all doors and windows. We repeat, the governor has ordered all residents of Texas to remain inside if possible. Due to the level of the crisis, police and emergency personnel are unable to respond to calls.”
Nathan turned up the volume.
“To recap, around the entire planet, between twenty and thirty percent of the world’s population has collapsed without apparent cause. This occurred simultaneously at 3:15 AM, local time. The afflicted individuals suffered violent convulsions before collapsing. A few minutes later they regained consciousness and began attacking all non-afflicted within reach. They have not attacked each other. The method of attack has been primarily biting.”
The warning to remain indoors, along with statements that the police were trying to restore order in the streets and could not respond to specific requests for assistance, continued to be given, interspersed with limited information concerning riots and attacks at hospitals and other public places, the few that were frequented at such an early hour. Then there was a very long pause as the announcer fell silent.
“We are getting new information,” she began. “I’m not sure if this is accurate. The live footage I’ve just seen seems to corroborate it, and the reports are starting come in from multiple sources. Still… I’m sorry. The afflicted appear to be dead. It appears – I hate phrasing it this way, but I still don’t have enough to say – sorry. Let me…” She took a deep breath. “It appears that those afflicted died following the seizures. They were not unconscious as initially believed. A few minutes later they rose, but are not alive. I repeat, the afflicted individuals who are attacking the living are no longer themselves alive.”
“I have not seen any of this firsthand. I’m sitting in the studio’s broadcasting room with only a single technician on night duty. We’re too high up in the building to see the streets, but we do have a television and a computer. They’re all starting to say, or at least suggest, that, well, that these people really are dead. I’m going to try to get hold of some of our affiliates or reporters who might be on the ground.”
“Wait a second. I’ve just gotten a news bulletin from the A
ffiliated Press. Okay, the president has put the military on alert, canceling all leave and calling up all, I repeat all, reserve units. Not too sure how that’s going to be implemented under the current circumstances, but if you are in either the active military or reserves, you need to report for duty immediately. I’m assuming you know where to go or that someone will contact you. I really don’t have a lot of details. There’s nothing about our overseas forces either.”
A few minutes later that changed.
“Okay,” added the newscaster, her voice even more strained. “U.S. troops in Japan are on lockdown. Many of the facilities are apparently being overrun by either the dead or refugees trying to flee to safety, but the bases on Okinawa seem to be intact. Americans living on the island of Okinawa are instructed to go to these bases. I’m not really sure why this was forwarded to us. We can’t exactly reach them with our transmission signal. Oh, the tech just told me it was a general notification.”
She sighed. “I’m sorry. I really am. Normally, we have more people here to sort the information and news alerts so we can give you the most relevant information. I haven’t seen anyone come in. Judging from what’s happening, I don’t know if any can even get here. I’m going to stay on air…”
When Nathan switched stations the clock on the video recorder’s screen read 4:28 AM, a little more than an hour since the change occurred.
The reports on the other radio stations were essentially the same. There were warnings to remain indoors intertwined with news that a large portion of humanity had suddenly and inexplicably died, only to rise again and attack the living. The word zombie was beginning to be uttered.
“What the fuck? What the fuck?” Nathan was mumbling again. The pain in his voice had diminished, but it seemed his sense of despair was growing.
A car horn sounded in the distance, barely audible on the recording, and Nathan pulled his vehicle to the side of the road, stopping the engine. There was a brief pause, and he suddenly picked up the video recorder and got out of the car. He didn’t aim it, and there was no indication he knew it was still recording. Neither Briana nor I had any idea why he took it. The action didn’t make much sense.