Dark Days (Book 1): Contagion

by Dyer, Marcy G.

  Randi gripped her weapon, took a few deep breaths, and swallowed. "Any ideas where to start?"

  "Probably in the back room."

  "Take it slow and quiet." The hair on the nape of her neck lifted. One step at a time, soldier. "If you hear anything, let me know." They crept toward the back of the store. Every squeak of her hiking boots on the linoleum made her cringe. If the owners were still here, they would get shot. If...she shook her head. No more ifs.

  She tightened her grip on her Kimber and forced one foot in front of the other. Press on. Her family depended on her. Even though they expected her to screw up. Again. She would prove to them she was a vital part of their little community. One way or another. She took half steps to the left and tripped over something in the aisle. She landed on her shoulder and almost lost her weapon.

  *****

  Josh put an Impala in neutral, grabbed the steering wheel, and pushed while Mark leaned his weight into the trunk. The car rolled to the side. Two more and they could pass.

  Mark had jogged to the next vehicle, a big pickup. "This one's gonna be a little harder."

  "You wimping out on me?" Josh grasped the tailgate with both hands as Mark maneuvered the wheel and pushed. The side of the road had a slight downward hill so the momentum of the truck carried it on off the road.

  Josh swiped at sweat running down his face and prepared for the last car when a hand grabbed his leg. He jumped back. A woman in her late fifties or early sixties sat on the blacktop leaning against the car. "Can you help me?" Salt and pepper hair matted against her skull and her lips were swollen and cracked.

  "Can I get you some water?"

  "No. Kill me."

  "What?"

  She pointed to her leg. A large gaping wound to her calf oozed blood. "I got bitten a couple of minutes ago. Don't let me turn into one of those things."

  "Are you sure an infected person bit you?"

  She lifted her eyebrow. "No, it might've been a werewolf."

  Mark knelt beside her. "We can get you to the next town, and maybe someone there can help you."

  "Only thing anyone can do for me, is put a bullet through my brain." She grabbed Mark's hand. "Please."

  "I can't kill you, lady."

  "Why not? I'm already dead. You'd just hasten it along."

  Josh grabbed a bottle of water from the 911. "Here you go."

  The woman slapped it out of his hands. "I don't want water." She glared at him. "I want you to shoot me."

  He squatted down in front of her. "I can't."

  "Why not? I've already developed a fever. Before long the other symptoms will show up. Please. I'm begging you." Her voice quavered, but her eyes remained dry. "Put yourself in my place. How would you like to become a cannibal?"

  He couldn't kill this woman, but he refused leave her lying here on the highway waiting to turn. He paced the roadway for a while. "Please at least take a drink of water."

  "Water won't help unless it's enough to drown in."

  "Let us move you to the side of the road." Mark touched her arm. "That way you're not in the middle of the highway."

  "If you move me, then you'll push this car out of the way and haul it out of here leaving me to turn into one of those things."

  "No. I promise."

  She looked from Mark to Josh. "Nope. No way. Kill me first, then you can move me."

  "What if I promise to kill you once we have the road cleared?" Mark asked.

  He had to be placating her, right? Innocent, naïve, young Mark couldn't kill this woman.

  "Okay." She let him help her up, and she hobbled to the side of the road. "But don't you dare forget your promise."

  "I won't. Come on, Josh. This is the last car we need to move. It'll be dark soon, and we don't want to be out here when the sun goes down."

  After they moved the car off to the side of the highway, Josh wiped the sweat from his brow. They'd moved several along the way, and he still couldn't figure out why the owners had abandoned them.

  "We have one more thing to do." Mark motioned toward the woman. "I made her a promise."

  "I can't shoot an unarmed woman." Josh's eyes went wide. "I refuse to do it. Even if she had a gun, she's harmless."

  "Harmless, but hurting." Mark put his hands in his pockets. "You don't have to do it, but I want you to understand."

  "Understand what? You can't murder that woman."

  "What if it was Mom?"

  Josh let out a breath. "What do you mean? I couldn't kill Mom either."

  "No, what if Mom was stranded out here. Bitten. Infected. Waiting to turn." Mark clenched his jaw. "Could you allow her to deteriorate until she started eating other people?"

  Josh swallowed over the lump in his throat. "There is no good solution."

  "Yes, there is." Mark went up to the woman and knelt beside her. "You doing okay?"

  She nodded. "As long as you keep your word."

  "I will."

  "Wait!" Josh grabbed Mark's shoulder and tugged. "You can't do this. We don't play God." He tugged at his collar. If they'd gotten here twenty minutes earlier, maybe he could've saved the woman from this. Saved Mark from making such an onerous decision. "This is wrong."

  "I'm not playing God. She's dying." Mark rose. "If I had a way to keep her comfortable, like on hospice, I would, but that's gone."

  "Where do we stop?" Josh scratched his neck. "Do we kill only the ones with rabies? What about someone who has cancer? Autoimmune diseases?"

  "If she'd die without turning into something that chowed down on other people, I wouldn't do it." Mark turned back to the woman. "If you can't handle this, go to the car."

  "No." Josh looked at the woman. "What if—"

  "Son, what ifs are luxuries we no longer have." She nodded to Mark. "Go ahead."

  "What's your name?" Josh asked.

  "No. I'm not gonna go there. If you get too friendly with me, he'll no longer be able to do this."

  Mark pointed the pistol at the woman, and his hand started shaking. He lowered the barrel. "I'm so sorry. I can't. I just can't."

  The woman patted his hand. "Give me your gun."

  Mark handed her his pistol.

  "Thank you. May God bless you for this." She put the gun to her temple and pulled the trigger.

  Mark threw up as the woman's eyes bulged out and blood sprayed the area. He sank to the blacktop with his head in his hands.

  Josh ushered him back to the 911 and returned to retrieve Mark's gun. He got back in the car. The stench of vomit hung in the air. Ignoring it, he handed the weapon to his brother. "Here you go."

  "I wanted to help her."

  "You did." Josh glanced at his brother. "You did far more for her than I would've. I was going to leave her to turn."

  "Why?"

  "I couldn't do it." He put the car in gear and wound through the maze of cars they'd pushed to the sides "Taking a life isn't easy even when it's you or them. In her case, there's no way I could kill her even though I knew what she faced. Even though I wouldn't want someone to leave me alive to become a monster."

  Chapter Twelve

  Reginald slowed as they pulled into Roswell. Could anyone there help his sweet wife? He glanced at Mary Anne. Whimpers punctuated her soft snores. Even in sleep she couldn't get relief from the pain. Lights shone from a restaurant, and Reginald spotted several people inside. He whipped into the parking lot, jumped out, and pounded on the door.

  A woman pulled it open a crack. "Can I help you?"

  "My wife is injured. She broke her arm. Is there a doctor available?"

  "Is she bitten?"

  "No. She slipped." Reginald rubbed his forehead. "Please."

  "Just a moment." The woman disappeared as the door closed.

  After what seemed like hours, she returned. "Bring her inside. We don't have a doctor, but there's a dentist here. If the fracture doesn't need surgical intervention, he said he could help."

  Reginald ushered Mary Anne and the kids into the diner that looked
like it came out of the fifties. The red vinyl booths and bar stools provided a backdrop for black laminate tables and black and white checkered floors. The woman showed the kids to a booth where they could rest for a while and led Reginald and Mary Anne to the kitchen area.

  "I'm Dr. Voss," an older white-haired man with a close-cropped white beard said. "Even though I'm a dentist, I did go to medical school. I should be able to help. 'Specially when it comes to broken bones that don't need surgical intervention."

  "Thank you," Mary Anne said.

  "Let me take a look." The dentist touched her arm, and Mary Anne yelped. "I'm so sorry, but I don't have any pain medications. It's not a compound fracture, but I must straighten it and put a cast on it."

  "Do you have the equipment?" Reginald asked.

  "No. I'll figure something out for the cast."

  "Is there a pharmacy around? Would they have the needed supplies?"

  "There's an animal hospital two blocks away." Dr. Voss held his hands palm up. "I don't know how bad things are, but they would have pain meds and supplies."

  "Then I'll go." Reginald grabbed a pen and paper from the counter. "What do you need? Get me a list of everything, and I'll make the run."

  The man crossed his arms. "Do you have a weapon?"

  Reginald shook his head. "I'll be okay."

  "No, no, no. That will never do." He walked out into the restaurant and returned a few minutes later. "Here's a Springfield 1911 with a full magazine." Dr. Voss handed Reginald the gun and a couple of extra magazines. "We don't know if the hospital is overrun."

  "I'm going with you."

  Reginald turned to find David standing in the doorway. "No."

  "Dad—"

  "Stay with your mom and sister." Reginald ran his hand through his hair. "If things go sideways at the hospital, you'll need to protect them and get them to California." Reginald hoped David remembered California was their code word for the complex in Texas.

  "But, I can help you. Together there's a better chance of us getting what the doctor needs."

  "There's also a better chance of something happening to both of us. Leaving your mom and Belle alone."

  David stared at the floor. "Fine."

  "If I'm not back before morning, you get to California."

  "Got it."

  "Now, go rest. You'll drive tomorrow."

  Reginald slipped out the door and ran toward the hospital, passing a spaceship touting the International UFO Museum. A crying in your beer song fit the life they were now living. He turned the corner and passed a downtown decorated for an alien Christmas. A Christmas they would never celebrate.

  Dr. Voss had given him instructions on where to find the clinic and what all he would need. He stopped running, consulted those instructions, and tried to catch his breath. Why didn't he take up jogging years ago?

  Halfway down the block an old house with a wide porch had a swinging sign that read Roswell Animal Hospital. The thought of giving his wife animal medications sickened him, but it was better than nothing. Reginald found the clinic front door unlocked. Had someone already ransacked it? His legs shook, and the muscles in his shoulders clenched as he stepped inside. He stood in the doorway for several seconds before his breathing returned to normal. No rabids in this room. He baby-stepped to the back room. No sign of anyone so far.

  Dr. Voss had told him to go the very back since most clinics kept the majority of their supplies there, so he continued through the clinic. He reached the supply room and rummaged around until he found antibiotics, pain pills, and the casting material. He shoved everything into a bag then scoured the shelves looking for things they might need in Texas.

  Once he had a couple of bags stuffed full, he opened a door in the back room. A hand grabbed his arm as he opened it. He jerked and stumbled backwards for a few steps. Several infected poured out. Reginald's throat tightened at the shuffling, groaning, drooling mass of people. He turned to run when one of them grabbed his leg. Reginald jerked his leg away, but the man held on. He put a bullet in the man's head and took off at a flat-out run.

  He glanced over his shoulder as he reached the front door. Several had gained on him. He steadied himself. Aimed and fired at each one. He shot one rabid several times before he dropped. He jerked the front door open, slipped through, and slammed it shut. A large wooden bench sat in front of the building. He shoved it in front of the door then ran full-speed.

  Did any of the rabids still have the brains to follow him? Reginald ran in zig-zagging motions up and down the streets and took several turns just in case. He stopped in an alleyway behind an electronics store and bent at the waist. A vile stench permeated the trash littered area. What caused this malodorous scent that made his stomach heave? His breaths came in short gasps, and he swiped at the sweat beading on his brow. Why hadn't he started working out while he was still developing this evil virus? He should've realized he'd be running from rabids. Or zombies. Or undead. Whatever they were at this point.

  He couldn't think of these things as humans. If he did, how could he ever face himself? Darkness surrounded him, and he forgot the way back to the restaurant. He started walking again. A bloated, decomposing body leaned against a building halfway down the alley. No way to tell how it died or even if it was male or female. He'd found the source of the fetor permeating the alleyway.

  *****

  Randi pulled herself up from the floor and tried to slow her thundering heart. "Leon?" she whispered. "Are you okay?"

  "Yeah. You?"

  "I fell over something in the floor." Randi's legs tightened and quivered as she continued to make her way along the back wall until she came to an opening. The pervasive darkness surrounded her and pressed in on all sides like an oversized Indian python had her in a death grip. She pushed through the door, gulped in a few breaths, and slid her shaking hand along the wall all while holding her Kimber at the ready with the other hand. Would she even see a rabid in this blackness? Images of rabids bursting through the door and taking her down came unbidden to her mind. Focus, Marine.

  She took another deep breath and targeted the wall at her side. There had to be a light switch. She searched the entire wall then moved to the very back wall. Her hand slid over a metal door. Could this be it? She tugged open the door and found a row of switches. She flipped them all on and blinked several times against the brightness as the room lit up. "That was intense."

  "A little." Leon rummaged through a crate. "Hey, I found a shipment of generators."

  "Let's load those and get out of here."

  Her brother-in-law pointed to a small window next to the back door. "It's dark out. Maybe we should gather what we need, and hang out here until first light."

  She bit her lip. Spending the night in the hardware store held no appeal, but there was no telling how many creatures they'd encounter if they tried to find groceries in the dark. "Okay." She stretched her arms as fatigue seeped into her muscles. "If we stack it all next to the front door, as soon as the sun comes up, we can throw it in the truck and find a grocery store."

  Leon grabbed a dolly. "You got it." He stacked a couple of generators on it and rolled them out of the back room.

  Randi followed behind and went through the store. Someone had made off with most of the usable supplies. How had looters missed the generators? Looters. Randi scoffed. She thought of others as lowlifes who stole, and yet here she was pilfering everything from someone else's store. What a hypocrite.

  "Anything else in here we can use?"

  Randi shook her head. "Let's find a spot to rest until the sun comes up."

  "We leaving the lights on?" Leon raised an eyebrow. "It might draw unwanted attention."

  "Okay." She jogged to the back room and flipped the switch for the store, but she'd keep the lights on back here, since the pervading darkness they'd been in earlier almost suffocated her.

  "I'm going to stretch out in the back room." Where there's some light.

  "Sounds good. See you at sunup."r />
  She found a spot on the concrete and put her back to the wall. With her weapon in hand, she closed her eyes, but sleep eluded her. How long could they live in this new world? They could keep the rabids out of the compound with some work. What about opportunists who wanted it? How many more people would she have to kill? When she left the military, she thought she was done. Fatigue overtook her and she slipped into the darkness of sleep.

  Randi woke to Leon standing over her. "Hey, sun's coming up. Let's see if we can find food and get back."

  They rolled the generators outside and used the lift gate to raise them into the truck. Randi climbed in, hit the start button and turned to Leon. "Do you think we should try houses or stores?"

  "Either way we risk the owners shooting us." Leon pointed to the left side of the road. "There's a little grocery store. Stop, and we'll check."

  She pulled into the parking lot, and they peeked through the plate glass windows and the glass doors. It appeared clear. She took a deep breath, unholstered her .45, and eased the door open. No signs of life, uninfected humans, or otherwise. "We're good." Randi grabbed a grocery cart and started down the aisles. Much of the food was gone, but she found several cans of vegetables and dumped them in the basket. She went through the entire store and grabbed everything she found.

  The candy aisle was full, so she emptied it into her cart. They all deserved a treat, and this might be the last for a long time. She came upon a rotating rack full of seeds toward the back of the store. Growing enough food this spring and summer might reduce the supply runs before one of them got killed. She stuck the seed packets into a box she found on the floor and added them to her buggy. The blue cart had a wobbly wheel making it difficult to push.

  She passed the checkout stand and bagged up the cans and loose candy bars then pushed it to the truck. She unloaded everything into the backseat. Where had Leon gotten to? She returned to the store. "Leon?"

  "Get out. Now!" he yelled.

  Where was he? Randi's heart rate soared as she ran to the back of the store. "Leon, you okay?"

  "No. Go. Please, Randi."

  She opened the meat market door. Leon leaned against a walk-in cooler door with all of his weight.