The Plague Unto The End

by T. Gault

  Apparently “Matt,” as told me to call him, was another college student, but he attended an out-of-state school. He had only come home for the weekend to visit his family. Matt’s parents lived in a county in northern Virginia. Fairfax County was much larger than Hampton where I lived. He had made it home Thursday afternoon and was going to go back to school Sunday night. Everything was fine until Friday night.

  A man with a nasty bite wound on his arm came to their door. He said he didn’t know what had done it, it was very dark, but he did grab hold of part of it. “It was...cold...very cold, and…the sm…smell!” the man had said to Matt. At this time it was roughly 9:00 p.m. and Matt wanted to make sure the man would be all right. Matt’s dad called for the police and requested an ambulance, but the dispatcher advised him that there had been an abnormal amount of calls for service that night and they would send someone as soon as they became available.

  About a half an hour later, while Matt’s parents tried to keep the man awake, the man went pale and stopped breathing, and his eyes glossed over. He was dead. Matt’s dad told them all to leave the room as he put a blanket over the body. Before they had all made it into the next room, they heard a blood-curdling scream followed by some thud noises. The body had gotten up and somehow torn out Mart’s fathers’ throat and was now hunched over the bloody mess chewing. Matt said that he watched his father taking his last breaths.

  Upon seeing Matt, the reanimated corpse grabbed Matt’s father, barely alive, and dragged him into the next room, leaving a streak of red behind. At that point his mother became uncontrollable and followed them into that room…never to return. He was not sure what had just happened. Matt and his little sister Jennifer were not going to stay and see what else the sick man was going to do. So he ran to the back door, slammed it shut and locked it. He grabbed his little sister’s hand and they ran to his parent’s room. Matt smashed open his father’s shotgun case and grabbed his dad’s shotgun. His little sister was too young to drive, so he drove and he told her to sit in the back seat. At first, Matt was not sure where he was going to drive to, but eventually he decided to drive to the local sheriff’s office.

  Once they arrived at the usually quiet sheriff’s office, they noticed that this was no longer the case. The town’s crime prevention center had been inundated with panicked citizens. Rather than join the crowd, Matt took his sister to his Aunt Helen’s house just up the road. No one was home and the front door was wide open. Matt attempted to use the phone to make some calls, but none of the numbers he called were ever answered. Matt and his sister stayed there for a couple of days hoping that his Aunt would come home. She never did.

  Jennifer never liked her Aunt’s house and after staying in that old house for almost two days, she wanted to leave. He and his sister agreed that they would drive south until they found some help. They made it out of the driveway okay, but when they came to the end of the neighborhood, Matt made the mistake of going to the area of a high school a few streets over. The school had been used as a kind of triage when the infected began attacking people. The facility didn’t last long and was soon overwhelmed. A Massive crowd of infected people poured out of the school and into the streets. Matt said that at first he was going to try to drive through them, but his younger sister quickly convinced him that it was a bad idea. Instead they drove back toward the house. He said he planned to get out of the neighborhood the back way. But by the time he made it back to the house the infected had completely overrun their house and were gradually taking over the rest of the street.

  He looked to the other end of the street and saw that the undead hoard had not built up as greatly as it had nearer to the high school. They tried to force their way through.

  He gunned the gas and headed for the largest gap in the crowd. The impact of the three or four they hit caused the car to swerve into the more crowded area. He heard the rear window glass break, and the quiet interior of the vehicle was flooded with the moans and screeches of the overwhelming crowd. Just as Matt shoved his foot into the gas pedal, he looked into the rearview mirror and saw several pairs of arms reaching through the shattered rear window. He tried to turn around to grab his sister’s hand but she was ripped out of the back window, and he knew that with that many, she was already dead. He said he would never forget hearing his sister’s last helpless scream and watching through the mirror as Jenny disappeared into the horde. It took all the strength he had inside of him not to stop the car and run to try to save his sister. He said he drove around in a daze for about an hour before deciding to make up a plan. His plan was very similar to mine. But he was planning to leave town. He thought that maybe what was happening might not be everywhere. I thought it might not be a bad idea.

  At the moment we weren’t in the safest of areas. He had managed to hit a small gun shop before going to the Food Lion, but that store had been one of the first places looted in his Aunt’s area. He got a few boxes of shotgun shells but that was about all that was left. He said there was plenty of handgun ammunition, but like many of the other residents in that area, all he had was a hunting shotgun. He did not recommend going back though, given the conditions he last saw.

  I agreed with him.

  CHAPTER 7 - Previously occupied...

  We assumed the store was empty given that it appeared that Sharron had never made it inside of the store. I started to look at clothes to find something in my size that didn’t smell too bad. Matt didn’t seem so quick to start shopping.

  “What’s the problem?” I said as I searched the medium rack.

  Matt raised his shotgun toward the back of the store and said, “I doubt they only put one person on the staff for opening the store. We should check the store before we get too comfortable.”

  Just as he finished talking I heard what sounded like a row of books being knocked off of a shelf. I immediately dropped the shirt that was in my hands and pulled out the Glock.

  “But the door was locked,” I whispered.

  “Shut up! They can follow the sound of your voice,” Matt responded in a very quick whisper.

  I could hear shuffling on the cheap carpet, but all of the clothing racks made it very difficult to see where it was coming from. The store was very small and while we had time to think, I put the Glock back into my pocket and pulled out my sword. Matt kept his muzzle pointed to where the noise sounded like it was coming from while I tried to make my way around the store walking along the wall. Then I saw it. What appeared to have once been a man lay trapped under a bookshelf with at least one clothing rack’s worth of clothes stacked on top of him. He was sliding his feet on the carpet trying to force his way out from under the pile. All of his efforts were fruitless. He acted almost as if he didn’t even realize that he was trapped.

  I looked over at Matt and pointed to where the pathetic figure continued his pointless struggle. Matt looked confused, and instead of advancing on the target, he quickly walked over to me, keeping his eyes on the direction of the scuffing. When he saw what I was looking at he lowered his weapon and we inched our way toward the rotting yet still moving mass.

  “Do you think it can get that stuff off of itself?” I said as we came within fifteen feet.

  With a cautious stare, Matt replied, “I’m not sure, but get ready to take its head off if it starts to make progress.”

  When the cold lifeless eyes made contact with us, the man forgot completely that he could not move, and focused all of his attention on trying to get us. He reached with all of the effort he could give, but still did not move from under the pile.

  “Look at him. He was bitten on the neck at some point,” said Matt, pointing at a deep gouge taken out of the man’s neck.

  “Have they bitten you yet?” said Matt as he turned to look at me.

  “Well, one of them bit my jeans,” I said with a baffled look.

  Matt suddenly stood up and stepped back, slightly raising his shotgun, “Did it bite through your jeans?” asked Matt more forcefully.

&
nbsp; “No, they have not bitten me yet,” I said, as I took a defensive posture and put my hand on the my gun. “Why do you want to know that?” I said, stepping back a little.

  “Neither have I,” said Matt, looking back at the wiggling corpse. He pointed his shotgun at the face of the creature but hesitated. “He can’t move, and we need to save the ammo,” said Matt as he lowered his weapon and pointed at the monster. It took me a few seconds, but I figured out what he was trying to say. I brought my sword up over my head and chopped at the neck of the unfortunate creature. The blow landed solid but did not kill it, passing only about halfway through his neck. The body stopped moving but the head was still chomping away. I pulled the sword out and aimed for the head this time. The second blow made contact in the eye socket area. This time the creature stopped completely.

  Neither of us felt comfortable keeping one of those people in the room with us so we pulled the body out from under the shelving and merchandise and stuck him in the female restroom. It was funny to think that we were still concerned with the gender of a restroom at that time. We could see that he also used to be an employee of that store. We guessed that the snarling corpse, Steve by his name tag, must have been overcome by the disease after he had gotten into the store that morning, or he was there the night before and never left. We also put that same bookshelf in front of the door just in case Steve could get back up.

  We slept in the thrift store that night, or at least tried to. I had not had a chance to really think about what had happened throughout the day, until we sat down in the back of the store. We both attempted to sleep with our backs to the wall furthest from any doors or windows. The building did not have many windows and they were mostly warehouse style, high off of the ground. The rain outside had stopped completely, and the air was becoming crisp. I heard so many unfamiliar noises: gunshots, explosions, car alarms that no one would ever shut off. Matt was able to get to sleep much faster than I could and when I did get to sleep, I was woken by the sound of shuffling feet just outside of the front door.

  As I began to reach for my Glock, I heard Matt say, “It’s just one, and it’s not trying to get in. Go back to sleep.”

  I paused when he spoke up, but I still wrapped my fingers around the polymer handle of my weapon and pulled it close.

  I sat still, looking out the front door at the wandering female corpse. She looked like a lost tourist, trying desperately to find someone who spoke her language. I felt myself become compassionate for her almost to the point where I was going to stand up and introduce myself. Then it hit me, Am I losing it? I had experienced a lot of things that I had never seen, heard, or done and I felt like it was playing games with my head.

  “What if we are it?” I whispered to Matt.

  “What?” said Matt in a half sleeping voice.

  “I mean, what if everyone else on the planet is already like them?” I replied.

  “That would really suck,” whispered Matt as he made himself more comfortable.

  I slowly drifted off to sleep next to my new friend. Neither of us had any idea what we were about to face or what we would do to survive it all. Both of us would have to fight for our lives. In the days ahead, I would have to do things that would change me forever.

  Dream #2...

  I open my eyes and once again I am alone. I have nothing but what I am wearing and a strange looking thermos in my left hand. The thermos is silver and has a hole punched in the top of it with a stiff string sticking out of the hole. I am very high off of the ground and there is some kind of large metal framework all around me. The frame is not that of a building but that of a roller coaster. I am standing very still and looking up toward the sky. I slowly look down to the ground and it appears that the ground is several hundred feet below. Something is not right about the ground below, it moves. As I stare at the ground I realize that it is not the ground moving but thousands of them.

  “Where are you?” I hear myself whisper. Again I raise my eyes to the sky and I begin to search the clouds. I hear metal clanging down near the ground. They are becoming restless and cannot forget that I am standing here, no matter how still I stand. The noise below changes. Now the sound is not a mindless beating noise but a more quiet clatter. I look down again and gasp in fear...they are starting to climb. I yell this time, “Where are you?!” I start frantically searching the sky, my eyes bouncing to every dark spot in the clouds. I reach into my right pocket and pull out a cheap plastic lighter. “He said he would try to get here, but he also said not to count on him.” I whisper to myself. I look beneath my feet and at the ground level I see my mark. A large pile of barrels in the back of a truck, which is parked at the base of the coaster, waits for my action.

  I flick the lighter creating a small flame, dancing in the breeze. I scan the mixture of blue and white above my head one last time and bring my hands together. When the flame makes contact with the fuse sticking out of the silver canister, the fuse flares for moment and begins to sizzle. I can feel my heart pounding and for an instant I think I can hear it too. “That isn’t my heart, it’s him,” I yell. Something is wrong though. The helicopter is smoking from the engine area and it looks as though he is having trouble keeping it in the air. Then I remember the explosive in my left hand. “Shoot!” I gasp. I begin to throw the explosive canister down toward the truck when I hear someone walking on the same platform that I am standing on.

  Just as I release the thermos I see the remains of a young female member of the park workforce stumbling very close to me. I rear back and lunge forward to shove her over the side of the platform, but just as I see her begin to fall uncontrollably, I realize that I am also beginning to fall. She’s grabbed onto my shirt and is pulling me over with her. I reach and grasp desperately for anything, but I am already out of reach. I feel myself begin to accelerate toward the ground and yet my decomposing companion is still trying to pull me into her rotting teeth. I look up toward the smoking helicopter just in time to see it smash into the platform I had just been standing on. Debris begins to fly everywhere. A small chunk of metal strikes me in the stomach and embeds itself in my abdomen.

  I turn my head toward the crowd waiting to welcome me and watch as the thermos explodes just feet above the barrels in the truck. Suddenly one of the barrels bursts into a ball of fire. I feel a great overpressure as the rest of the barrels ignite. There is a blinding flash of light and immense pain.

  CHAPTER 8 - The more the...just more...

  My eyes flew open and I grabbed onto the floor. Matt was standing in front of me with a flashlight pointed at my face.

  “I tried nudging you, poking you and calling your name. I was beginning to think you were not going to wake up,” said Matt as he stopped pinching me on the side of my neck.

  “It’s still dark out. Why are we already getting up?” I said as I began to gather my things.

  “I’m not sure yet if it makes any difference but if they do have trouble seeing us in the dark, I think we should take advantage of it,” said Matt with a smirk on his face. We hadn’t gotten much sleep but the couple of hours we got felt good after a very long, strange day.

  We both took a few minutes to count supplies before leaving. I topped off the magazines I still had left, which left me with only seven rounds in the box and ten in each of the two magazines. I found some cleaning supplies behind the front counter and decided to wipe off all of the blood and dirt from my hands and face. I also wiped off the blade of my sword, and as I did, a thought came to mind. The coagulated blood had become very sticky and was starting to smell pretty bad. I wondered how much contact with the fluids of the infected it would take before becoming one of them, or if one could get infected at all by contact with fluids alone. I looked at my hands and pant legs and realized that I did not feel sick or anything. So the infection must not be from contact alone. Maybe the infection only comes from the bites, I thought.

  I looked over at Matt and saw him finish topping off his twelve-gauge.

 
“Where to now?” I asked as I looked around the shop for more supplies.

  “Well, we’ve got a little food in my car, but I don’t have much gas,” said Matt as he stood still and pondered for a moment. “I think we’re both running low on ammo about now.”

  I was just about to make a suggestion of my own when Matt said, “This place is not too bad. The front door poses a slight problem but I think it could be boarded up. Otherwise, the windows are high off of the ground, the walls are concrete, and there are some supplies here, but nothing that is going to attract looters.”

  “Yeah, I see your points, but staying here is not going to solve any of our problems. We still need ammunition, more food, medical supplies, clean water, gas, and more people,” I said, feeling as though Matt might be giving up.

  “Calm down. You missed my point completely. We could use this place as a fallback just in case we get into a jam,” said Matt with a very annoyed look on his face.

  “Well, what are you suggesting we do then?”