by Gary Chesla
Her dad had come home that morning, soaking wet and glowing orange.
Later that day when he got sick and became delirious, Fran told her sister to keep an eye on him and she would walk up to the sawmill to see if she could find someone to take their dad to the doctor’s office in town.
She was walking on the dirt road that led to the office at the sawmill. She had walked here many times looking for her dad when he hadn’t come home from work and she knew the people that worked in the office. They were friendly and she hoped she could get one of them to take her dad to the doctors.
She had seen her dad sick, or hung over many times, but this time he seemed different.
This was more than just a normal hangover and it had her worried that it might be something serious.
As she rounded the bend where she could see the sawmill, Fran stopped and ran and hid behind the trees.
The men, many that she recognized, were fighting and it looked like they were trying to kill each other out in the parking lot.
Many of the men were lying on the ground, covered in blood.
Then Fran realized they were doing more than trying to kill each other. There were gangs of men on top of the fallen, tearing them to pieces and biting the injured men.
She couldn’t believe what she was seeing and the sight of all this blood and violence scared her.
Fran got out of there as fast as she could but, unfortunately, it didn’t end there.
It was only the start of a nightmare that still hadn’t ended.
When Fran got home, her dad met her at the door.
He looked really strange and had blood all over his face and down over the front of his clothes.
He reminded her of the men she had just seen back up at the sawmill.
When he started moaning and reaching for her, she ran outside, went behind the house and hid in the back of his pickup truck.
She watched him stagger around the side of the house, dragging his body around like something from the Walking Dead.
When he finally staggered down the road, Fran ran back into the house and slammed the door.
When the moaning sounded once again from behind her, Fran turned to see her sister, Tammy, coming out of the bedroom.
Fran screamed when she saw Tammy.
The front of her sister was covered in blood, the blood that ran from where the right side of her face had been.
Fran threw open the door and ran back to the truck.
Her sister followed her out into the yard and must have seen Fran crawling into the back of the truck, because a few minutes later her sister’s bloody face appeared over the tailgate and glared down at her.
As Tammy crawled into the back of the truck, Fran jumped out over the left rear fender and ran back to the house and slammed the door again.
Fran dialed 911 but all she got was a recording.
She made a second call to a girlfriend of hers in town, but the call lasted for only a moment before the line went dead after ten seconds of the most terrifying screams that Fran had ever heard.
She tried a few more calls, but now all she heard were recordings to try her call again later.
It scared the hell out of Fran when her sister began pounding on the front door and moaning.
Fran tried to talk to her, but all it did was make Tammy moan louder and increase her efforts to break down the door.
Then her sister was joined by some of the men Fran had seen up at the sawmill.
At this point, Fran dragged the couch over in front of the door so they couldn’t get inside the house, took the phone and locked herself in the bathroom.
She spent the night curled up in the bathtub, trembling uncontrollably as she tried to unsuccessfully call for help.
By morning the phone was dead, the power was out and Fran was alone, scared out of her mind.
For three days, Fran watched as the mangled bodies of the men that had worked at the sawmill, staggered and crawled past her house, some deciding to stop and pound against her house for a while before finally moving on.
She never saw her sister or her dad again, but she worried every day since, that what they had become would come back looking for her.
One quiet afternoon, after eating the last of the food in the house, Fran decided to take her dad’s truck and drive into Twin Falls to look for help.
She searched the house but couldn’t find the keys anywhere.
After working up the courage to go outside, hoping to find the keys in the truck, she snuck out the back door and ran to the truck.
But with the way everything else had gone, she didn’t expect to find the keys in the truck, and she didn’t.
Twin Falls, as best as Fran could remember, was only five or six miles away from where she lived.
She knew she could walk that far if she had to, but after everything that happened and what she had seen, she had no intention of trying to walk that far by herself.
She didn’t want to try anything like that until she found out what was going on.
With the phones and power out, finding out anything or getting help was going to be a problem.
However, she did see something in the truck that gave her an idea, her dad’s CB radio.
She had heard him talking to his friends on the radio many times when he drove her to school.
He had used a lot of strange terms like, “Good Buddy”, “Ten Four”, “Handle”, “Breaker Breaker” and references to “birds in the air”, none which had made any sense to her, but hopefully she could reach someone that talked normal.
So, she decided that maybe she could use the CB to get help or at least find out what had happened.
Without the truck keys to turn on the ignition, she couldn’t get the CB to work in the truck, so over the next two days she searched the house until she found a wrench, a screwdriver and a pair of pliers.
Then she went to work trying to take the radio out of the truck.
It took her another day and a half to get the CB radio out of the truck and into the house.
It normally wouldn’t have taken her this long, but she was nervous and scared out in the open yard and kept running back inside the house at every little noise she heard until she was sure it was safe to go back out to the truck.
The truck battery was another problem, after getting the wires off the battery terminals, it was all she could do to drag the heavy battery across the yard and inside the house.
After connecting the battery directly to the CB, Fran finally got the radio to work.
She began to hear people talking, but she couldn’t figure out how to talk to anyone, so for two days she just sat and listened.
Over the next few days she learned a lot by listening to the frantic and depressing conversations over the radio.
All the talk about zombies and the walking dead didn’t make sense, but the main thing she learned was that the cities were gone, overrun by “zombies” and that anyone caught outside would be brutally killed and “eaten”.
This she had seen happen with her own eyes.
Everyone was saying the same thing.
Somehow, if these people were to be believed, the world as she had known it had come to an end.
Over the next few days, except for late each day, there seemed to be fewer and fewer people talking.
In frustration one evening, when she wanted to ask questions but couldn’t figure out how to get anyone’s attention, Fran hit the radio and yelled, “Will someone talk to me!”
Fran was surprised when she got a reply and instructions on what buttons to push if she wanted to talk with someone.
She ignored the lecture on the proper CB etiquette and just started asking questions.
When Fran was done, she had learned a lot, made some friends and over her good-natured objections was given a handle. They called her “Newbie”.
Fran had finally made contact with the outside world, or as she soon realized, what little was left of the outside world.
&
nbsp; That was a little over one month ago.
It had been a long terrifying month of just trying to survive.
After swallowing the last bite of her Slim Jim, Fran hit the button on the CB and said, “John, are you out there?”
She got on the CB each night to talk with the faceless voices to share her day and just to reassure herself that she wasn’t alone.
Night, for some reason, became the best time to use the CB.
Fran had tried to call out during the day but wasn’t able to reach anyone like she had done before.
One of the guys on the CB told her something about radio waves were able to travel further at night than they could during the day. That apparently meant the only people still on the air lived far away from Fran’s location. Fran really didn’t understand the technical explanation he had given her, but that didn’t matter.
She got the idea.
He could have just said that CBs work better at night and that would have been enough.
“This is Batman, Newb,” came the reply over the radio.
Fran sighed, “Hi John, I mean Batman, how are you today?”
“Tough day today in Logan, Nevada,” Batman replied. “I came up empty. I found this new store outside of town and decided to give it a try. The place was empty and I ended up getting myself trapped in there for most of the day.
Have you noticed that the zombies are starting to act strange?”
“How much stranger can a zombie act?” Fran replied, “No I haven’t noticed. Fortunately, I haven’t seen any zombies the last few days. Since the ones at the sawmill went down off the mountain, it’s been quiet around here. I don’t know what I would have done if I had to dodge zombies everyday like you. I’m having enough trouble as it is.
What makes you think the zombies are acting strange? Really, how could you tell?”
“Well, when I got trapped in that little store, I thought I was done for,” Batman replied.
“But then I saw the zombies start to pound against the door, you know like zombies like to do.
It was strange, they would pound at the door and their arms were falling off.
They seemed to be moving slow too, so I decided to make a run for it.
When they tried to chase me, they were falling down and I swear they were breaking apart.
All around town there are bodies of zombies lying around everywhere.
If I didn’t know better, I would say they are starting to die.”
“I didn’t think zombies could die because they are already dead?” Fran asked.
“I don’t know but something strange is starting to happen with them,” Batman replied.
“Hey, how are you doing?” Batman continued after a moment of silence. “What did you eat today?”
“I had two Slim Jim’s,” Fran replied.
“Again!” Batman laughed. “I don’t think those things are good for you.”
“Maybe not, but since all the food in the house ran out, I have to eat something,” Fran laughed. “Slim Jim’s have been easy to find. The guys that worked at the sawmill all ate them for snacks. I’ve been going up to the sawmill and rummaging through all the trucks. I’ve been finding them under the seats and in the glove boxes, but I think I found the last two of them today.”
“Now what are you going to do?” Batman asked.
“I don’t know, John,” Fran replied then added, “I mean Batman. Any ideas?”
“Well from what you told me, you live in the hills,” Batman said. “You should be able to find lots to eat in the woods. Do you see any animals around where you live?”
“Yeah, I see rabbits and squirrels running around out behind the house all the time,” Fran replied.
“I hear roasted rabbit tastes great,” Batman replied.
“It does sound good, but I’d hate to hurt them they are so cute,” Fran said.
“Did you ever go to McDonalds and have a Big Mac?” Batman asked.
“I love Big Macs,” Fran replied.
“I bet you think cows are cute too,” Batman laughed.
“Yeah, but I didn’t have to hurt the cow,” Fran replied. “Someone else did it and I didn’t see it happen, so that doesn’t bother me if I don’t think about it.”
“I would be happy to come to Twin Falls, catch a rabbit and make you a rabbit dinner,” Batman said. “But we both know that isn’t going to happen anytime soon.”
“Well, if something is happening to the zombies like you said, and we both are still alive,” Fran said, “that sounds nice. I think I’m going to hold you to that.”
“Good, but in the meantime, you have to eat something,” Batman replied.
“I guess I can try finding nuts and black berries in the woods,” Fran said.
“Well, if that doesn’t go too well,” Batman said. “Why don’t you get a box and prop it up with a stick where you see the rabbits and squirrels. Tie a string to the stick, get out of site and watch the box. When a rabbit or squirrel goes under the box, pull the string and you will have yourself a feast.”
“How do I get it out from under the box?” Fran asked. “And don’t say lift the box and kill it with a stick. I don’t think I could do something like that, at least not yet. I would feel really terrible.”
“I have a way you can do it and not have to see it die,” Batman said.
“OK,” Fran said hesitantly. “I’m listening.”
“Use a cardboard box,” Batman said. “After you pull the string and have a rabbit trapped, you run over and jump on the box.”
“Oh God that’s horrible,” Fran gasped.
“You won’t see a thing,” Batman replied, “Just like the cow and a Big Mac. Believe me, I would do it if there were any rabbits around here. Think about it. It’s fast and humane. The rabbit will never know what happened. Just think about how good that rabbit is going to taste.”
“I think I want to change the subject,” Fran said. “Have you heard from Wolfman or Flash lately?”
“No, not for a few days now,” Batmen replied. “A month ago, there were thirty of us that talked every night. Then one by one, they seemed to disappear. Now all that’s left is you and maybe Wolfman and Flash.”
“What do you think happened to them?” Fran asked.
“I hope it was just because their batteries went dead,” Batman replied. “But it’s more likely that it’s because they are all dead. Until recently, it has been hell with all the huge mobs of zombies everywhere. It’s a wonder that any of us are still alive.”
“Do you think there is anyone else alive out there?” Fran asked. “It’s so weird with no phones, TV, lights, stores to shop at and without any other people.”
“I don’t know,” Batman replied. “I honestly don’t know. This has been the kind of thing we all used to talk about and think how neat it would be to survive the end of the world. Well, I can tell you it’s not as exciting or glorious as we all made it out to be.”
Fran thought for a second then asked. “I don’t know what I would do if I didn’t have you to talk to. I never thought that being the last girl on earth would be any fun. I guess that kind of stuff is a guy thing. But what happens when our batteries go dead?”
“I guess we go out and try to find another battery,” Batman replied.
“What if I can’t carry it all the way back home, I had a hard time just dragging the battery out of the truck from the driveway,” Fran replied. “And what if all the batteries are dead?”
“I have your address,” Batman replied. “If things ever get to that point, and if the zombies keep getting slower, it may take me a few weeks, but I’ll try to come and find you. I promise.”
Fran was quiet for a few minutes, finally she spoke up.
“Good night John,” Fran said. “Be careful out there. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
“Good night, Fran,” John replied. “Stay safe and watch your back.”
Fran sat in front of the CB and thought for a few minutes as the light beg
an to fade away.
As she reached out to disconnect the radio from the battery, she heard John’s voice again over the radio.
“Jump on the box and it won’t feel a thing.”
“Are you trying to give me nightmares?” Fran laughed.
“Never,” John chuckled.
Chapter 4
June 28th, Granite Mountain
Doc sat at his desk and looked at his calculations.
He double checked his work then sat back in his chair, put his hands behind his head, leaned back and stared up at the ceiling as he thought.
He had spent the last few weeks pouring over the inventory of everything stored at Granite Mountain.
Then inspecting the actual items and comparing them to the lists that Chervy was able to locate on the computer.
There were a lot of things stored at Granite Mountain, but it was far from being a collection of everything mankind would ever need in the future.
There were bays of food, seeds to grow grain, vegetables, fruits and fruit trees.
There were tools, building materials, clothing and material to make more clothing.
Many of the bays had been set up as living quarters, four of which the men from Fallon had claimed for their new home.
There were libraries of just about every book ever written, maps, videos, audio books and manuals on how to do just about everything.
Some of the bays had motorized vehicles, bicycles, and small helicopters.
One bay even had small arms and rifles along with manuals on how to hunt.
The facility contained most of the things needed to give the people that were to have been sent here, what they would need to survive and begin to slowly rebuild society. The things they would need so they wouldn’t have to start from scratch on their own like the early pioneers that settled the country.
But Doc was disappointed as he was expecting to find far more than he did.
