by Brown, TW
“…by telling her that!” Kevin’s mother’s voice was snapping in his ear.
“Mom, listen,” Kevin took a deep breath before he spoke. “I know that you think I am a bit of a geek. You’re right. But if you are watching the same thing on television that I am, then you can’t deny what your eyes are seeing. I don’t care if you want to believe this or not, but those people on television are zombies. The media can label this any way they like…but it is what it is.”
“But telling Sara—”
“Mom, if you stay in that house you will die and Sara will die and the fault will be YOURS!” He’d never actually raised his voice to his mother before. It felt strange. Silence on the line had him wondering if she’d simply hung up.
“I’ll go, Kevin,” his mother said in a whisper.
For just a second he felt a surge of something in his heart. He’d stepped in and assumed the man role. His mother had conceded to his request. But something in his mother’s voice was…wrong.
***
Kevin shook his head and cleared it. He glanced over at Valarie again. She was still in what seemed to be a very deep sleep. With all that she and Shari had been forced to endure, he wondered how much sleep the girl had actually gotten in the past several days.
He was about to risk a peek over the side when he froze. The sounds of countless feet trudging through the snow could be heard. Occasionally he could hear what sounded like a wheezing moan or the strains of a baby cry.
The zombie mob was passing directly below them! Kevin thought about it for a second and then slithered across the snow-covered road of the overpass. While there would be the possibility that one of the zombies might spot him if he looked at the zombie parade as it trudged past, he seriously doubted that any of them were looking over their shoulders.
“Dogs don’t look up!” a British-accented voice declared in his head. He hoped that zombies didn’t look back.
By the time he reached the other side, he was more than just a little uncomfortable. As he’d crawled across on his stomach trying his best to be quiet, he’d managed to scoop what felt like a considerable amount of snow down the front of his pants.
Having reached the other side, he poked his head up. The wall of undead was spread almost all the way across the highway’s east and west bound lanes. They were already stretched out for what had to be at least a hundred yards going west towards Newark.
Suddenly, the wall of vehicles across the highway that he and Peter had found made sense. He didn’t know why he hadn’t realized it before. Willa’s group didn’t just have that in place to deter the living; it was a perfect way to divert an oncoming horde of the undead.
He decided that the only thing he could do now was wait out the passing of this mob. A glance back at Valarie confirmed that she was still out cold (pardon the pun). He would need to see about keeping her warm. He would finally be able to put to use some of the more extreme survivalist training he’d learned. He just hoped that it actually worked for extended periods of time. They were not going to be able to move from this spot for probably the rest of the day.
He crawled back, wincing as a fresh batch of snow was scooped down the front of his pants. Deciding that there was no sense in moving her a bit (plus he didn’t want her to wake up for as long as possible, one sound from her would ruin everything they had achieved) he went to work scooping some of the snow out from around a spot in the middle of the road.
It was exhausting work, and he realized as his stomach began to cramp along with the muscles in his arms, legs, and back, that he was starving. He wished that he had something to remedy that problem, but “wish in one hand and poop in the other…see which one gets full first” is what his dad used to always say.
Before long, he had an impressive mound of snow. He set to digging at a slight upward angle into the oblong dome that he had created after letting it sit for a bit and firm up.
Every so often, he would check on the progress of the mob. Around mid-afternoon when he had dug in far enough and hollowed out a little room complete with a “bench” along one wall, he checked and discovered that they were down to just stragglers passing underneath. In between building their little snow dome and checking on zombies, Kevin’s mind had time to wander back again…
***
Kevin turned up his police scanner. It had been a non-stop source of chatter for the past day and a half. Most of it was unremarkable in the first few hours, but it had changed in tone some time yesterday, and now it was like having a horror movie on in the other room and just listening to it play.
For the past twenty minutes he’d been listening to transmissions between a paramedic team, at least two police officers, and a dispatcher that had been on the job for the past fifteen hours if Kevin’s calculations were correct.
“…windows of the mobile home show definite signs of an attack,” a female voice reported. She had been the first officer to reach the scene when the paramedics had called for police back up during a call where a husband had called for help when his sick wife had attacked not only him, but the family dog; a Dachshund named Brutus from what Kevin remembered during an earlier part of the audio drama.
For a moment, he felt just a hint of remorse at finding himself so riveted to what was unfolding on his scanner. He knew that this was real and that those were actually living, breathing people being affected, but he couldn’t help himself.
“…and the EMT vehicle is open with no sign of the crew.” Now the female officer was approaching the residence. “The front door is shut, but I can hear something on the other side of the door. I believe that we have responders down at my location, please send an EMT team and back up to my location.”
“Officer Wilson, be advised, do not enter the residence,” the dispatcher warned. “Back up is en route…ETA two minutes.”
“Copy,” was the only reply.
“Don’t be stupid, Officer Wilson,” Kevin called out from his hallway as he pulled down a few boxes from the shelf.
Opening the boxes, Kevin sorted through the notebooks from the various survivalist seminars and camps that he’d attended. He finally found the one he needed and grabbed the checklist.
He listened for a few more minutes until he heard what was now starting to become the standard conclusion to these ordeals.
“Unit Seven…Officer Wilson…please respond. Officer Wilson, this is dispatch…please acknowledge…”
Nothing but static.
He went to his computer and entered everything on the list and sent it to his three friends, Mike, Cary, and Darrin. He told them all to reply within the next hour confirming which of the listed items that they had currently in their possession. He also set the time for their rendezvous for 4AM at Trashmore Park.
Going out to the Ford Escort, he loaded in the first of his supplies. “So close to paid off,” he whispered. And now, the credit rating he had been trying to build when he had convinced his mother to co-sign on the loan wouldn’t matter one bit All around the complex, he could hear the echo of the same news reports being played on what sounded like every single apartment in the place.
“Hey…Cameron?” a voice called with a certain tentativeness.
Kevin looked around and his eyes tracked up to the fourth floor balcony (the apartment just above his). A dark haired beauty stared down at him with a beer in her hand. She had lived above Kevin for almost five months. He was almost certain that she was a dancer at one of Norfolk’s many go-go bars. She might have said a dozen words to him since she’d moved in.
“Me?” he asked, trying not to let his eyes pop out of his head. She was wearing nothing more than a bra and G-string.
“Yes,” the tall, slender young woman replied with a gesture of her hands that obviously was meant to draw his attention to the fact that there was nobody else present.
“My name is Kevin.”
“Oh…you sure it’s not Cameron.”
“I could call my mom and ask, but I’m pretty sure.” He
didn’t have time for this and made no attempt to hide his annoyance. She didn’t seem to notice…or care.
“You been watching the news?”
“Kinda hard not to…even the Cartoon Network is running this stuff.”
“So is that doctor lady right…or are those guys saying that this is zombies telling the truth?” She tried to laugh off the last part of her question as if that might persuade Kevin to give her the answer that he was pretty sure she wanted to hear.
“I wouldn’t stay in the city too long,” Kevin said. “I think that doctor is spewing what she is told to say by the powers-that-be.”
“Is that what you’re—” she began to ask, but Kevin’s cell rang. The theme from Sesame Street caused him to instantly forget the current conversation.
“Yes, Sara?” he answered and headed inside to grab his next load. He never noticed the scowl on his upstairs neighbor’s face. She was not used to being ignored…especially by guys.
“Kevvy, can I bring my Barbie? Mom says to just leave it here and I can play with it when I get back,” his little sister’s voice pleaded.
“Let me talk to Mom.” Kevin took a deep breath. Were they really haggling over a Barbie doll while the world fell apart?
There was the sound of shuffling and a few muffled words. He knew that tone in his mother’s voice. She was at her breaking point. Once she reached this degree of frustration, she was almost impossible to talk to.
“Kevin, if I am going to have to pack every single little thing to keep her entertained…we might as well just stay home,” his mother started in the moment that she came on the phone.
“Mom, stop.” Kevin put as much authority into his voice as he could. He knew that he was going to need to take charge of the situation right away in order to get his mom to listen and do what needed doing. “It is a doll. It won’t take any room at all and it will keep her quiet.”
“And then it will be the clothes, and then that gawdawful Dream House. Why did you get her that garbage, Kevin? You know it sets an unrealistic expectation upon girls when they are at an impressionable age.”
“Mom…STOP!” Kevin barked. “This is not a fucking game. Now get the stuff in the car and you two get moving. This is going to get a helluva lot worse before it gets better, and when it does you guys need to be long gone.”
There was silence on the line. It was really obvious that his mother was struggling with this. He just needed her to hold it together long enough for the two of them to get to the cabin. If she had a meltdown there, nobody (and hopefully nothing) would be within miles.
“I saw one of them, Kevin,” his mother whispered. “Missus James…she is in her backyard. At first I thought she was gardening or something, but she was following after that yipping little rodent of a dog that she owns. I was upstairs in my room and looked out the window. She…trapped it…”
His mother went silent for a second, but he could still hear her breathing. He would let her get this out. Maybe then she would accept the harsh reality.
“She caught it on the porch and tore it open with her teeth, Kevin. And that little dog yelped and howled…but nobody came. Now…now they are both out there in the yard! Walking around. That little dog is dragging itself by its front legs.”
Kevin filed that thought away. He was a little surprised to hear that whatever this was, it was jumping species. Of course this was no ordinary virus or disease, so what he knew from the movies was really just a lot of supposition.
“Mom, let her bring the Barbie, but you two get out of there within the hour. You hear me?”
“And when are you going to join us?”
Kevin had hoped that she wouldn’t actually ask him that question. He didn’t have the heart to tell her that he wasn’t coming. She wouldn’t understand.
“Mom…this is something that I have spent my life preparing for. I can help. I need to be able to do something and make a difference,” he lied.
“Wait…what? Are you saying that you aren’t coming?” his mother asked, her voice growing just a bit shrill.
“I said I can’t come right away. Besides, the government might get a handle on this in a few weeks…months at the most—”
“Months!” his mother exploded. “Kevin, you can’t expect me to just take Sara out into the middle of nowhere without knowing what has happened to you.”
“Mom…if anybody has a shot at making it through this…I do.” He wasn’t used to bragging, especially to his mother. Talking trash to his friends during one of their marathon Halo sessions was one thing. Real life was an entirely different matter.
“And what am I supposed to do?” his mother said.
It took a moment, but he finally realized that his mother was actually asking him. She had no idea what to do. For a moment, he considered scrapping his plan. Actually he had a series of plans. Each one was based on his evaluation of just how serious he believed the situation to be. If he felt there was any chance that things would recover, he planned on fortifying his location and riding it out. The extreme scenario involved a run for a sparsely populated part of the country—he had chosen South Dakota, but that didn’t seem likely at the moment.
“Get all the food you can load into the car and leave now. Once you get on the road, Sara won’t care. She will be too busy pointing out cows and trees and pretty water,” Kevin said.
He remembered the first time that he took his sister for a drive. At first, she drove him crazy. Then, it slowly dawned on him that she really hadn’t been anywhere. His mother, while she loved her daughter, seemed reluctant to take the girl anyplace public. The world was a wondrous place to his little sister.
“I don’t know if I can do this, Kevin.”
“Mom…I know you’re scared, but if you are considering staying at home, just look outside at Missus James…and her dog.”
“I am going to load the car. Will you talk to your sister while I do?”
He glanced around his apartment. As far as he could see, it was ready if he decided to stay. There were a few things he still needed to take to his car in case he changed his mind, but that was simply the last resort. The only reason he’d taken anything down this early when he was still very much doubting that the “Final Option” scenario would be coming in to play was because it was simply his nature to prepare for the worst case.
“Fine…put her on,” Kevin agreed.
“Kevvy?” She must have been standing there beside their mother the entire time for as fast as she came on the line.
“So…are you ready to go to the cabin?” Kevin’s voice immediately changed. The only person he ever spoke to with any real warmth was his sister.
“Can I bring my Barbie?”
“Yep.”
There was a squeal of happiness on the other end. That was probably the one aspect of his sister that he had grown so fond of…her complete lack of an emotional filter. If she liked something, she was a bundle of squeals and giggles. Conversely, if she didn’t like something…be prepared to duck.
“So I need you to help me with something,” Kevin said. “I want you to keep a close eye on Mom and make sure that she is okay.”
“Is she sick?”
“No…but—” he started, struggling to come up with the right words.
“Is she gonna turn into one of those monsters like on television or in Missus James’ yard?”
“You shouldn’t be watching the television,” Kevin snapped.
“But I was looking for my toons,” she protested.
“Toons won’t be on for a while,” Kevin insisted. “You stay away from television, okay? For me?” He hated pulling out the secret weapon, but things were going to be rough enough on her without those images stuck in her head.
He had been stunned to realize just how much she absorbed. He’d taken her to see a few movies over the years, but when he’d taken her to see The Rocky Horror Picture Show (Mike had been working the box office and not said a word when he showed up at the window with a seven-
year-old Sara dressed like Magenta) and she had pointed out that the man who answered the door to Frank’s castle was the same man from the wedding, his jaw almost snapped it dropped so hard.
“How did he get to the castle so fast, Kevvy?”
At first he’d had no idea what she was talking about, then he realized that she was talking about Riff Raff. There were other examples, but that was always the one that stuck with him. His sister might have Down’s, but she had an eye for details that he never could figure out.
“Okay…no more television. But when my toons come back, can I watch them again?” she asked.
“Huh?” Kevin shook his head. “Oh…yeah.”
Just then, the sound of breaking glass sounded, followed by his mother’s scream. A wave of fear battled with the nausea that hit him in the gut.
“Miss James is trying to get in the kitchen win—” Sara started, but the phone was yanked away.
“We’re leaving now, Kevin. Try to get to us as soon as you can.”
Those were the last words he heard from his mother or sister. He spent the rest of the day checking and re-checking his set up. He was pretty convinced that he could hold out for at least a month if it came to it. The third floor wasn’t ideal, but since each building was self-contained with a flight of stairs that split it in half—four units on each side of the stairwell with a U-shaped walkway that allowed the residents to come up and turn left or right to their front door—it would be easy to defend if things didn’t get out of hand.
He was in a chat room with his three friends when the announcement came. Of course, they’d already seen enough on television by then for him to make the call, but that announcement sealed the deal.
“…the president has declared a state of martial law that goes in to effect immediately. He urges Americans to locate the closest FEMA center and report there immediately. Local governments have been given the task to activate full emergency resource protocols. Your local stations should have the information scrolling within the hour. As soon as day breaks in your area, you should be prepared to move immediately. Military, National Guard, and local law enforcement will be deploying to facilitate evacuations if possible.
