by Howard, Bob
“All of us thought the area we were in was unpopulated enough for an easy hike to the shore, and the military had portable radios called MBTRS. They had good range, and they said we could reach the naval ships for extraction.”
“You were in the worst place you could be,” I said. “You were just west of Simmonsville. An accident on Highway 17 caused a big log jam in Simmonsville.”
The Chief leaned toward Tom and said, “Try to picture this, Tom. The infected dead were attacking the living, and there were so many people in the area that there wasn’t any place for them to go. The living tried to retreat from the log jam by going back the way they had come, and that caused even more dead to be in that area. It was like a wave washing up onto a beach and then going back in the opposite direction. It just kept doing that until the town of Simmonsville was a mass of infected dead.”
Tom said, “That would explain the welcoming party. They were spread out, but there were plenty of them. We tied our boats up as far out on the marina dock as we could, and we were unloading our gear to get ready for the hike to the coast when they started coming out of the trees. Fortunately for us, most of them tried to walk across the mud to get to us. Some stayed on the dock, and we didn’t waste bullets on them. We just pushed them off the dock into the mud.”
“We’ve seen that behavior, too,” said Kathy. “But we just shot the legs out from under the ones in front. The dead behind them weren’t coordinated enough to step over them, and the dead that went down flailed around, causing more of them to fall off of the dock.”
“We were a long way out on the dock,” said Tom, “so the infected had a long walk without good balance. One of the guys spotted a rack that was holding long boat oars, and they were perfect for silently sending the infected over the edge. While the rest of us stowed our gear in backpacks, a couple of the guys used the boat oars to clear the docks. We were glad we didn’t shoot them, because they just kept coming and coming. If we had fired shots, we probably would have had more of them arriving at one time than we could handle.”
“When we were ready,” said Tom, “we started for Rice Bluff Road at a trot. The temperature had dropped and it looked like it was going to rain, so we wanted to cover the five miles and get it over with. Things didn’t go too well, though. Less than a half mile from the start of Rice Bluff Road, we started to make the turn that would take us toward the coast, and it was wall to wall infected dead. As far as we could see, the entire road was packed. We didn’t have any choice but to keep going straight into a suburban neighborhood on the edge of Simmonsville.”
Tom said the infected were just standing around in a big crowd, not really showing interest in anything until his group showed up at the end of the road. They didn’t need an invitation as they all began to follow the first living things they had seen in weeks.
Simmonsville was so overrun by the infected that they had wiped out the population in a few days. People who had been told to stay at home by the FEMA broadcasts in the first few days lost all hope of escape as more and more people died. The only chance any of them would have had to survive would have been a fortified place with a large amount of supplies.
Tom said, “At the end of the paved road we followed a dirt path that led to the back of the first cul-de-sac. The good news was there was still power, so we knew we could at least find a warm place to sleep. Some of the homes still had their HVAC units humming outside, undoubtedly because someone had left the thermostats set too high or too low. Whichever it was, the infected were drawn to the sounds of the running units, and they were less likely to hear us.”
“I guess the bad news was that our group was a mixed bag of survivors, but not necessarily skilled people,” he said. “There were a few who wouldn’t listen to anyone. They did their own thing like it was a game. To them, the first house was fine, so a bunch of them broke away from the main group and just rushed into the first house. Five people ran in despite the warnings from me and Officer Barrett. They didn’t work together like a team clearing the house. They split up and rushed from room to room looking for the infected, but instead of finding and eliminating them, it was the other way around. They ran straight into waiting arms and teeth.”
“Ron and I hung back at first, but then we went to the door of the house and saw that the five had run into trouble. I had Molly staying back with a woman in the front yard because the shooting and screaming from inside was so bad. The rest of us knew that even if we took this house, it was going to be surrounded in minutes because of the noise. We needed to either take the house fast or keep moving.”
Tom ran his hands through his hair. He looked like he was reliving a nightmare. “I think there were at least two infected for every living person in the house,” he said. “And each of the living people had already been bitten. As they had split from each other and gone to separate rooms, they had all apparently retreated to a large living area, each with the infected in tow. There were more infected than normal, so the house must have been a last refuge for a bunch of neighbors when it had all begun. All Ron and I could do was pull the door shut and get our remaining group moving again.”
As soon as Tom and Ron had gathered up the last of their people, they saw there was no safe place inside the neighborhood. Even if they got lucky and found a house that had no infected inside, which wasn’t likely, they would be surrounded in minutes, and there would be no escaping.
They passed the homes one at a time looking for a gap that was free of the infected. There were infected everywhere they turned, and it seemed that they were trapped. Tom said they were tired, hungry, winded from running, and losing all hope when Officer Barrett said he had an idea.
He pulled Tom close to his face and said, “You have to get your little girl and the others to safety. We’re going into the next house and clearing it. Then I’m going out the back door to take care of distracting these things. I have an idea that should keep them busy long enough for you guys to get out of the area. If it works, I’ll catch up with you.”
Tom didn’t want to see his friend do anything crazy and said, “No, you’re not going to be able to do anything by yourself. We need to stay together.”
Before Tom could stop Officer Barrett, he ran up the steps onto the front porch of a modern home and went through the front door. Tom and the rest of their group had no choice but to follow. Molly, two men, and two women followed Tom and Ron into the house. Ron had already killed two of the infected before Tom came inside, and there weren’t any others in the main part of the house. Ron told them to all wait in the kitchen at the back of the house while he distracted the ones outside away from the house. He said that he wanted Tom to take the rest of the group out the front door and run like hell when the time was right.
Tom asked him when they would know that it was safe to go, and Ron just smiled and said he would know when it was time. They could already hear the groaning from the front of the house as more and more of the infected had gathered at the front door trying to get in.
Officer Barrett took a quick look out the kitchen window. He gave Tom and Molly each a quick hug and then disappeared out the back door. Tom went to the window to see where Ron was going and caught on to what he was doing.
The house Officer Barrett had chosen was facing inward toward a suburban street, but the back was facing one of those necessary evils of suburban living. The kitchen window faced an electric power relay station with a chain-link fence surrounding it. Tom realized that he had been able to hear the incessant hum coming from the station and had blocked it out. Officer Barrett was running straight for the only gate in the chain-link fence.
One of the other men left in their group asked what was going on. Tom had never asked his name. He had already gotten in the habit of not getting to know people because so few were surviving. As he watched out the window, he realized he was watching the last person from the convoy of boats that had left Conway with him, and Tom didn’t believe he would be seeing his friend catch up with th
em later.
Officer Ron Barrett ran the fifty or sixty yards to the power relay station with everything he had. When he got to the gate, it only took one shot to blast the lock apart that kept people safe from dying inside. He fired two more shots at approaching infected, but his goal was to draw attention to himself. Three shots was all it took. Every infected he could see turned in his direction at the sound of the first shot, and he was sure that every infected he couldn’t see did the same thing.
The gate was only a bit larger than the average door, and Ron Barrett didn’t plan to lock it behind him. He closed it and dropped the U shaped latch into place, but the sheer numbers of the infected dead bumping into it were more than likely going to cause it to eventually open. He looked around at the chain-link fence and saw that the warning signs on the fence about keeping out were probably not necessary because the concertina wire was going to keep anyone from climbing in or out. He began circling the high voltage equipment, staying as close to the fence as possible without getting close enough to be grabbed by the reaching hands that were extended through the fence.
The number of infected dead grew and grew until Tom couldn’t see inside the enclosed area, but he could see when the gate was finally pushed open. There was a logjam at the opening as too many of the infected tried to go through at once. Those in front were pushed to the ground, and the ones right behind them were landing on top of them. Tom watched in horrid fascination wondering if the infected weren’t doing a better job of blocking the entrance than the gate had, but eventually some of them managed to tumble over the tangle of bodies and roll into the enclosure.
One by one the infected fell into the open area between the gate and the high voltage equipment that hummed its warning. Tom could guess that Officer Barrett had circled the danger zone to get to the back corner judging by the large number of infected dead that had gone around to the back side of the fence. Tom also guessed that the total number of the infected had grown to three hundred. It was time to move to the front of the house, but before they left, Tom had to see what Ron was doing.
Tom told the others to wait in the kitchen while he checked to see if their way was clear out front. He circled back through the living room and ran up the stairs to the second floor. He made sure a bedroom on the front of the house was clear before crossing to the window. From there he saw that there were a few stragglers still making their way through the gaps between the houses over to the power relay station, but it was definitely better than it had been. Ron’s plan was working.
Tom crossed the hallway and checked a bedroom on the back of the house. His luck was holding up, because the room was also empty. He went to that window and looked out at the rear view behind the house. The Infected crowd had swollen in size, and the fenced area around the power relay station appeared to be smaller and insignificant in their midst.
Inside the enclosure, he could see Officer Ron Barrett sitting on the ground at a spot directly across from the gate. The entire size of the station appeared to be about two hundred feet on each side with a safe zone around its inside perimeter, and as Tom watched the first of the infected had gotten their feet under them and started for Ron. True to form, they were going to take a direct path to him, and as they stepped from the safe zone of the perimeter into the proximity of the high voltage equipment, it was obvious what was about to happen.
Their ungraceful, shambling way of walking caused them to go as much left and right as it did forward, and one by one they made contact with the wrong things. Blue electric arcs of lightning began shooting through the bodies of the infected. They erupted into flame as their tattered clothing caught fire and spread. Those nearest to them didn’t even need to be electrocuted because their clothing caught fire so easily. Hair and skin were ablaze, and smoke was billowing above the entire scene. Tom knew the sacrifice his friend had made for him and Molly one more time, but he thought to himself that it must smell like hell down there.
Those infected that had spread out to the left and right to go around the melee in the middle were not spared by the fire or electricity. The crowd of groaning, snapping dead were packing into the area so tightly that the electric charge crossed through them and reached the surrounding fence.
Tom was mesmerized by the sight of hundreds of infected dead being electrocuted all around the outside of the enclosure. They were falling and colliding with the dead behind them, and they were also catching fire. There was a large buffer zone around the outside of the fence, and the infected filled that zone. The smoke, fire, and bolts of electricity were amazing, and in the middle of it all sat Officer Barrett. He had stood up and turned in a circle to watch as he personally brought about the end for an untold number of infected dead.
Tom had to tear himself away, but just as he started to leave the window, he saw Officer Barrett look in his direction. He doubted that Ron could really see him through all of the smoke, but Tom could see him clearly waving his arm in a motion that said it was time for Tom to get the others to safety. He gave a silent wave to the brave man who had been responsible for giving him and Molly a chance to live once again.
He crossed the hall again and looked out the window. The streets were so clear that all of the infected must have been drawn to the bonfire and chaos at the power relay station. Tom quickly ran down the stairs to the kitchen where he found all four adults crowded around the little kitchen window.
One of them turned and asked him if he had seen what was happening, and despite the fact that he had been watching from a better vantage point, he had to take one more look. He was surprised to see that the infected so completely filled the area that they were almost to the back of the house where they were hiding. He knew it wouldn’t be long before the fire traveled across the infected and found a new source of fuel as the homes caught on fire. Ron was going to thin the population of Simmonsville by at least a thousand. Homes that held infected dead inside were going to join the fun.
Tom told the others the way was clear out front and it was time to go. They didn’t hesitate, but each one gave an unseen wave in the direction of Officer Ron Barrett. They quickly ran out the front door and ran in the general direction of the coast, but they had a long way to go.
They stayed close to the houses and made their way to the front of the neighborhood, looking back from time to time at the massive fire and plume of smoke. The noise was incredible, and the infected from miles around were probably moving toward them. They needed to keep moving as long as there was a gap between them.
At first it was better to be in front of the homes running parallel to the street, but they gradually started seeing more and more of the infected that had come a long way, drawn like moths to the huge fire. Behind the homes was an access road that ran directly to the power relay station, and it had become the most popular route for the infected to use. Whether they were streaming out of the neighborhood or the forests to the South, they were converging on the access road and were packed together so tightly that the entire parade was being pushed forward from behind.
Tom said the last block of houses had trees behind them that gave them some cover, and the street in front of the homes was beginning to be too populated, so they crept low to the ground between the buildings until they were in the trees behind them. Even if the infected saw them, the push from behind would carry the infected forward toward the fire. If they were spotted by any infected, they weren’t aware of it.
They kept creeping along until Tom was surprised that he could see an intersection sign that said they had reached Highway 17 in record time. The dirt road that had become Infected Dead Turnpike was the crossroad with Highway 17, and it was named Overland Drive. From what he could see, it was crowded with the infected that were being drawn across from the other side of Highway 17.
Tom gathered the four adults in close with him. Molly was squeezed in the middle of them. He told them that the bad news was that they had to cross Highway 17. That meant they would be in the open crossing four lanes
of road, and the median and shoulders had no cover. The good news was that there was a fire station across the road, and better yet, one of the fire trucks was outside.
He explained to them that getting across the road was not impossible if they kept moving. Stopping for any reason was as good as a death sentence. Tom told them to just run for the truck and climb it. If he could get it started, he would drive it out onto Highway 17 using the northbound lane to go south. He told them that the map showed a road less than two miles away that would lead directly to the coast. We didn’t want to interrupt him to tell him he was talking about our road, but we were all wondering if he was going to say anything about the big accident that had blocked people from leaving Simmonsville.
“Tom,” I said, “did you see anything that looked like a big wreck on Highway 17 near where you were?”
“As a matter of fact, I did,” said Tom. “That’s what changed everything. I thought we were going to be home free once we made it to the truck, but I was wrong.”
“What happened?” asked Kathy.
Tom told us that he knew they were in trouble as soon as they left the cover of the trees. The plume of smoke was still rising, and the noise from that direction was drawing the infected straight toward them in a steady stream. The wood line on the other side of Highway 17 was a mass of movement as the infected stumbled out of the dense brush onto the open shoulder, and the entire highway was a swarm of dead. They were spread out, but it was going to be a gauntlet for them to run in order to reach the fire engine.
Tom said he scooped Molly up and started to run, and the others automatically followed. They made it across the grassy shoulder onto the pavement before they got a good look down Highway 17. They were on a slight rise in the road so they could see the massive wreck that made the road look like an auto salvage yard. From shoulder to shoulder there were cars and trucks turned in every possible direction. Some were destroyed beyond recognition while others had probably come to a stop soon enough to join the others, but the drivers and passengers had been caught up in the wave of infected that were going from vehicle to vehicle in search of living flesh to bite.
